I lean back in my chair staring at my lawyer who looks like he’s about to throw up. His worry makes unease creep inside me. He’s the best at what he does and it’s why I pay him a fuck ton of money to be at my beck and call. But I’ve never seen the man break a sweat before. He’s a cocky bastard, but I can’t even give him shit about it because he has every reason to be.
Like him, I don’t break a sweat either. If something isn’t going to work, fuck it and on to the next. There’s no time to worry over things when you can move to the next project and make up ground. It’s how I’ve always been and why I’ve done so well in my life. There’s one exception to that rule and that’s my wife.
When it comes to her, I lose all of my calm, collected and cool demeanor. Moving to the next doesn't apply to her and it never will. It was her or death, and I made those vows the day we were married. I’ll go down with a fight before I leave her behind, but I’ll face that battle when death tries to take me from her.
“Spit it out, this should be easy,” I remind him as I glance at the clock wondering when Blakely will be done with her meeting. “We’re just crossing the T’s and dotting the I’s.”
I’m doing all of this to put my wife at ease. She’s got it in that beautiful mind of hers that her family and I need to be close. She wants them to like me and wants me to like them, too. That’s never going to happen, but for her I’ll fake it and I don’t fake shit.
I don’t know why I bother because they’d never do the same for her benefit. I know who they really are, and if it weren’t for the fact that I saved her father from losing everything, I’m sure he would have been more vocal about me walking in and taking his only daughter. He was lucky I didn’t take everything he owned. The only thing that stopped me was Blakely. They should be kissing her ass, not treating her like someone they’re stuck with. She doesn’t have it in her to be angry, but I do. I could be angry enough for the both of us.
Anger flares in me like it does every time I think about her family. It’s more often than I should allow it, but seeing her unhappy goes against everything I want and I’ll do anything to change that.
“There’s actually a problem.” Brent’s words interrupt my thoughts and my eyes go to his.
I lean forward, putting my elbows on my desk. “How is there a problem? There was no prenup and she gets everything. I just want to make sure no one can try and manipulate my Blakely. I want to know that our children will be fine and they will never end up in her parents’ hands. They’ll go to my dad or my brother and I want all of that in black and white.” I say the same words I put in the email I sent him when I set up this meeting.
Brent audibly swallows.
Blakely has been putting off having children. She tells herself it’s because she wants me and her family to get along first, but I know the real reason. She’s afraid something might happen to us and our child would be left alone or handed over to someone like she was. Yeah, it might have been her biological father she was given to, but he wasn’t a father.
I haven’t pushed her on the issue because I knew we had time for children. I want them, which is something I didn’t know until she came into my life. I’m okay with waiting and enjoying having my wife to myself, but lately I’ve seen the way she looks at every baby that passes her. When we walk down the baby aisles in stores her eyes light up. I’d be liar if I didn’t admit to doing the same, though mine happens more when my hands or eyes go to her hips. I think about her growing our baby that I put there. It’s barbaric to think, but I don’t give a shit. I’m used to barbaric now after being with my wife. I don’t fight it because that ship has sailed.
Brent clears his throat and shuffles his papers.
“Last night I was making sure everything was lined out and—” He pauses, taking a deep breath, and I level him with a look.
“And what?” I ask, annoyed.
“You aren’t married,” he rushes to say.
It takes a moment for his words to register in my mind because they don’t make sense.
“What the fuck you just say?”
I stand up so fast my chair goes flying back and hits the glass window with a loud crack. I brace my hand on my desk and lean forward because I’m sure I didn’t hear him right. Not married? When I meet Blakely I went a little insane with want for her. The only thing that calmed me just a little was making her mine. At my lawyer’s words I can feel whatever that thing is that lives inside of me start to rattle the shackles that’ve kept it in check.
“I can’t find the paperwork anywhere. It almost like it’s been erased and never happened.” Brent leans back as if the few inches will save him from my anger. It’s thick in the air now.
“Sir,” Mindy says, her voice low and calm as she correctly reads my mood.
“Not now,” I tell her, not even looking her way.
She makes an irritated sound and I know she thinks whatever she has to tell me is important. Nothing is more important than my wife, and Mindy knows that, so she doesn’t push like she normally would.
“How is that even possible?” I growl out.
“To be honest, I think someone went in and did it. Someone doesn’t want the two of you married.”
Immediately I’ve got a mental list of people who wouldn’t want us married. Starting with her parents and then down to every fucker who looks at her. Even that little prick at the coffee shop who always gives her extra caramel in her coffee.
“Fuck them,” I throw back at my lawyer because I’ll fix this now. “Mindy!” I bellow out, and my assistant comes strolling back into my office looking bored. We’ve worked together too long now for my temper to faze her.
“Get me a priest. I’m getting married today,” I say, then freeze when I see my wife standing behind Mindy.
“And who will you be marrying today, husband of mine?” She tilts her head and reveals a small teasing smile.
“I was going to tell you your wife was on the way up,” Mindy adds before walking out of my office, knowing she won that round.
Blakely waits for me to answer her.
“Come here, wife,” I command as I push my hands off my desk and stand up. Normally I call her dream girl, but now the need to call her wife has lodged itself in my throat. I have to remind myself that no matter what a piece of paper says, she’s mine. But I’m going to get that goddamn piece of paper.