Pandora
Five years later
“Oh my God, Pan, that guy is totally checking you out,” Penelope says from beside me.
I look up to see a guy at a bench in the park near us looking our way.
“Whatever,” I say, blowing it off. I’m in yoga pants and a tank top, with what I’m sure are at least three different kid stains.
“Seriously. He keeps looking over here,” she says, poking me in the ribs not so subtly.
“Dude,” I say, to get her to stop. “Maybe he’s checking you out.”
I look over to see the kids playing together in the grass and lie back on the blanket to soak in the sun.
“Don’t even play like that. Ivan is more than ten feet from me. If he hears you, he’ll come over here and murder everyone,” she says, looking around for him like she’s excited by the possibility. “Besides, I’m, like, eleven months pregnant with my fifth kid. I think Ivan might be the only man alive who finds me sexy.”
“Let’s hope so. If he found out someone else did, we’d all be in trouble.”
“I do love how possessive he can be.” She sighs dreamily, and I roll my eyes.
I can’t hate it, though. Possessive is one of my favorite features on my man. I lower my glasses and see Royce with our two little girls getting snow cones. His ass is looking way too good in those jeans today. Ivan is beside him, and he waves to Penelope, who blows him a kiss. God, I love her and how ridiculous she is sometimes.
“Oh shit. He’s coming over here. What do we do? Should we throw something at him?” Penelope is freaking out, and I want to laugh and cover her mouth at the same time.
“Excuse me, but do I know you?” the tall, thin guy asks, looking down at me.
“No,” I say, looking back to where Royce and Ivan are standing, but their backs are turned to us.
“They are not going to like this,” Penelope mumbles in a singsong voice.
“Are you sure, you look very familiar. Have you been to the art gallery on 7th?”
“Nope,” I say, sitting up now so the guy isn’t looming over me so much.
“It’s strange, because I own it, and I swear I’ve seen you at one of our exhibits.”
“You’ve mistaken me for someone else. My hus—”
“My name is Drake,” he says, interrupting me and kneeling down, holding out his hand.
Penelope leans past me and whispers to the stranger. “Look, Drake, you seem like a nice enough guy, so I’m going to save your life.” She looks to our guys and then back to him. “Those men are straight killers. You need to walk away slowly and never look back.”
He smiles like Penelope is being funny, but she pulls back and shakes her head. “Oh shit. Here we go.”
I turn to see Royce stomping over to us, the snow cones gripped in his hands so tight all of the ice is falling off them as he gets closer. He’s trying to hang on to them as the girls are hot on his heels reaching for them, and it’s a pretty funny sight.
“Are you talking to my wife?” He says the last word like I belong to him and it should be obvious to the world.
I want to laugh at how comical it is, but I know if I do I’ll only get him angrier. Nothing sets my Royce off like someone stepping between him and his ladies. That includes our daughters.
Royce hands the girls the snow cones, and Lavender complains that half of hers is on the ground, while Sam shrugs and drinks what’s left in the cup.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll get you another once I get rid of this asshole.” Royce looks back to Drake, who’s already standing up and backing away.
Just then Ivan walks up, and I bury my face in my hands, groaning.
“I tried to tell him,” Penelope says in a smug voice, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head.
Ivan doesn’t stop once he gets to us, though. Instead, he keeps stomping toward the guy. Drake’s eyes widen with fear, and he backs away. Ivan keeps going, then Drake turns and runs. Ivan ends up chasing the guy out of the park and out of sight.
“God, I love him,” Penelope sighs, watching Ivan walk back to her.
“Come with me,” Royce says, pulling me from the blanket and taking me with him to the snow cone vendor. “Should have brought you the first time.”
The girls sit down with their aunt and uncle and finish what little they have left of their icy treat.
“Don’t get all grumpy,” I tease, wrapping my arms around him and leaning close.
“I dropped my snow cone,” he complains, and he sounds like a little boy. It’s so adorable, I start laughing.
He growls and then turns, grabbing me up and squeezing my ass.
“You’re lucky you’re hot,” I say, kissing his lips.
“Yeah, well, I’m cursed that my wife is so damn hot. Can’t keep them off of you.”
“Well, I did wear my best yoga pants,” I say, and shrug.
“I told you your ass looked too good in them.”
“Give me my smile,” I say, and he does as I ask.
He beams at me, giving me that cocky-ass grin with dimples showing. I kiss each one before I kiss his lips, and he grinds against me.
“You get turned on when you get jealous,” I mumble against his lips.
“I get turned on when I’ve got you in my arms. And you damn well know it.”
“Maybe you should remind me,” I push.
I’m not disappointed when he throws me over his shoulder and tells my sister and Ivan to take the girls home. He’s got something he needs to take care of, and it has to do with my sassy mouth.
God, I love my man.
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