Picture Perfect Marriage Read online

  “This time it was only once, but five months ago, the man practically lived here whenever he came back home,” Roxi points out.

  My cheeks heat fiercely. “Tate and I have a history. We’ve been friends forever.”

  “Uh-huh.” Roxi stops mid-massage. “Would you say the type of friendship you have with Tate means you get to have adult sleepovers?”

  I jump out of the chair. “I don’t know. Do you and Will have adult sleepovers?”

  Will’s smirk grows wider. “As a matter of fact, we do.”

  Roxi crosses the room, slings an arm around him, and grins. “Yup.”

  Campbell snickers. “You asked for it, Quinn.”

  “I can’t believe you’re not on my side.”

  “I’m on the side of lunch.” She holds up her phone. “Just got the text saying it’s ready. I’ll be back.”

  “Convenient.” I glare at her as she gathers her things. “Next you’ll tell me that I can’t get Hazel this weekend.” I really need some baby time with my niece, if only to keep from missing Tate so much.

  “As a matter of fact...”

  I point to the door. “Just go.”

  Campbell winks at me. “Be back soon.”

  “Client calling,” Will announces, then hurries to the back.

  Roxi wriggles her pierced brows at me, rubbing her hands together. “Now I have you all to myself.”

  “You can’t make me self-incriminate.”

  “So there is something going on... Interesting.” She pretends to stroke an invisible beard. “Spill.”

  “Tate and I are together.” That much I will admit, but the rest... that’s not happening until Tate and I discuss how to best tell everyone in my family about our marriage. “And I hate the fact I miss him like he’s been gone for months.”

  “He left this morning, right?”

  I nod.

  “Oh, girl. You got it bad.”

  I’ve always had it bad for Tate. “Looks like it.”

  “So take the rest of the week off and spend it with him.”

  “Just like that?” I say with a snap of my fingers.

  She nods. “Just like that. You’ll be giving your clients twenty-four hours or more notice for the majority of them. Besides, when was the last time you took a vacation?”

  My heart pinches. The weekend of Laird’s disappearance. “A really long time.”

  “Seems like a no brainer to me.” She takes a step closer, lowering her voice. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Feel free to tell me to shove it or whatever, but I’ve noticed you’ve stopped taking on new clients. Or you had until Tate’s appearance spiked our customer base.”

  I swallow. “Yes.”

  “What’s the reason behind that?”

  “I’m pretty full.”

  Roxi eyes me. “You sure it’s not because you’re tired of doing hair and makeup?”

  Not exactly. “No. I’m comfortable with my list.” I fiddle with the tiara charm on my necklace. The very same charm Tate gave me as a birthday gift last year. I’d put it on after I dropped him off at the airport. Now I wish I’d done it before he’d left. “Why does it matter how big or small my list is?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because everyone was talking about your creations this weekend during Blackbeard Days, and those of us who have known you since cosmetology school might have an inkling that you’re passionate about art. Not just for hair and makeup, either.”

  “I was drunk that night, feeling... nostalgic of the plans I had in high school.” I blow out a shaky breath. “My parents didn’t want me to go far from Castle Beach... and now I’m glad I stayed.”

  “Sounds like it.”

  “I really am,” I protest, but it’s half-hearted. “Okay, so maybe I entertain the thought of selling the salon to you every now and then to jet off to Florence or Venice to study art.” Hadn’t I planned to do exactly that with Tate? Hadn’t he helped me create a business plan that would allow Roxi to buy me out or simply manage the salon and my clients while I studied abroad?

  It had been so exciting to dream about and plan it. So... freeing.

  Then Laird went missing and all my plans did, too.

  “Maybe I entertain the thought of buying you out... every now and then.” Roxi grabs my hands in hers. “This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation, but Quinn, if you don’t plan on selling, I’ll eventually move on. I have goals. One of them is to own my salon—with Will working under me.”

  “Oh, gross.” I refrain from my usual punch line because I don’t feel so punchy at the moment. “I know your goals. You’ve always been honest about it, and that’s one of the reasons I asked you to come work with me.”

  “Make a decision, Quinn, and soon, because I can’t remain in limbo much longer.”

  Neither can I, but that’s exactly where I live right now. “I’ll think about it. At the end of the month, I’ll share with you what I’ve decided to do.” I should fly out to Tate. Shock and awe him... I’ll go to him for once in my life. It’s the right thing to do. It has to be. What I’ll do when I get there... well, that’s another thing entirely.

  “Fair enough.” Roxi lets go of my hands. “Thanks for not telling me to shove it.”

  I side-eye her playfully. “The day isn’t over yet.”

  Then I head to my office, so I can call my clients and book a flight. “Ready or not, Tate Prescott, I’m heading your way.”

  Chapter 17

  Tate

  I reread the last text Quinn sent me hours ago, which said she was teaching a class at the local tech college tonight and won’t be able to talk until much later.

  I can’t imagine she’s still teaching, but maybe she went out for drinks. When I glance at the screen, I groan at the time. It’s nearly midnight.

  My gut twists, making me wonder if she’s changed her mind about us. If she’s decided I’m not her husband and we’re not staying married, because I couldn’t stick around longer than a week and a half. My hand tightens to the point of pain around the glass of bourbon I’ve nursed for the last half hour.

  I should have stayed, should have let Keilie know I had personal matters to attend to that required my complete attention and presence. Except I held on to the promise I made her, chose that over my vow to Quinn, who, for once, went along with my plans and even praised me for being such a good guy.

  Fuck.

  I am such a fool for giving Quinn seven days that she might decide to use to change her mind about us. If God could make the universe in less than a week, then I can only imagine what my wife can do in the same amount of time.

  Stretching out my legs, I let my head fall back and put my glass down at the same time, flexing my fingers until they stop cramping.

  A text pops up on my screen, making it ding, and I go after my phone like Pavlov’s dog.

  Quinn: Are you up?

  My pulse jumps.

  Me: Yes. What’s going on?

  How lame can I be?

  Quinn: Open your gate for a late-night delivery... if you dare. Bwahahaha

  Okay, so maybe lame works for someone so damn adorably corny.

  Me: You sent me something?

  Quinn: Yup. Now go open the gate before I scream!

  The fine hairs on the nape of my neck rise.

  “There’s no way.”

  I race outside, slamming my palm against the wall-mounted button before Brad, my head of security detail, can beat me to it. The gate slowly opens, and I try to peer beyond the glare of car headlights to get a better look inside.

  Beneath my bare feet, the pavers are cool, a direct contrast to my overheated skin.

  The door behind the driver swings open and out pops Quinn, her smile nervous.

  Gorgeous.

  Damn, the woman is beautiful.

  “Surprise,” she shouts. The driver gets out to help her with her luggage, while I continue to stand there as still as a statue in complete happy shock.

  Brad joins me
.

  Quinn waves at him. “Hey, you! Thanks so much for helping me coordinate this. Judging by the lack of movement from Tate, for keeping it a secret from him, too.”

  “You knew about this?”

  Brad grimaces... or is that a smile? Hard to tell since those two expressions are usually the same with him. “Since this morning. She didn’t attempt her code to unlock the gate, by the way.”

  That gets me out of my happy stupor. “Did you tell her it hadn’t changed?”

  “She didn’t ask. I assumed. It won’t happen again.”

  “Not your fault.”

  He nods and fades into the shadows, but I know he’s keeping an eye on the Lyft driver.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” I say. I sprint toward her, then take her one piece of luggage so the driver can leave.

  She bites the side of her lip. “Me either. And I’m hoping that my visit won’t be an inconvenience for you.”

  “Never. You are always welcome, no matter where I go.” I take her hand in mine, noting how cold it is. She’s actually nervous.

  My brave, bold pirate queen is nervous.

  “I have a couple of meetings tomorrow and dinner with Keilie—you remember her?” I want to ask how long she’ll be staying, but I’m worried she’ll end up taking it the wrong way, so I refrain.

  Quinn nods, her smile fading as we enter the house. “Is she the director you’re helping?”

  “One and the same.” It occurs to me that I didn’t share that bit of information with Quinn. But it wasn’t on purpose. However, Quinn might not feel that way. “She’s engaged by the way. Great guy. Not in the business.”

  “Isn’t that nice for them?”

  “Yeah, it is. We’re invited to the wedding. Assuming you’re my plus one.” I wink, trying to put her at ease... and failing spectacularly. “Anyway, my meeting is actually at the studio lot. When’s the last time you’ve visited one of those?”

  “Um, never.”

  I lead Quinn to my bedroom, placing her luggage by the door, and then take her in my arms.

  “I missed you, wild child.” Tenderly, I kiss her sweet lips, savoring the way she tastes. “Missed you more than I thought possible.”

  Quinn tips up her stubborn chin, her light eyes pools of silver. “I felt the same way... I had to come.”

  “You don’t know how happy that makes me.” I cup the side of her face. “After tomorrow, I’m done meetings and then I’m all yours. How would you feel about staying the rest of the week with me?”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely.” I nuzzle the side of her neck. “Me. You. No relatives. No work. We order in. Stay in bed all day and night... That’s my vote.”

  “I like the way you think,” she purrs, then her voice turns husky. “I’m not wearing anything under this dress.”

  My eyes widen. “Were you on the plane like this?”

  With a mischievous smile, she nods. “And the ride over.”

  “I should bend you over my knee.”

  “Yes, you should. I’ve been so very bad.” She shoves me back, then places her palm in the center of my chest. I allow her to guide me to the bed. “I should pay for being so naughty.”

  She pushes me to sit on the bed, then that wild child of mine lays her sexy self across my lap and flips up the hem of her dress, baring her plump ass to me.

  “No tan lines.” I run my hand over the firm curves, letting my fingers dip low. Her pussy is hot, wet... mine.

  “You know me,” she says on a gasp. “I’m always losing things.”

  “That’s a lie, wild child.” I take my fingers away, and she moans in disappointment. “If the powers that be put you in charge, you’d find Atlantis in less than a day.”

  “You’re in charge right now, and I say you need to find my clitoris again.”

  Smack.

  She gasps.

  The sight of the red handprint I leave on her ass makes my dick twitch. It’s so fucking erotic. “If I’m in charge, then you shouldn’t speak until you’re asked to do so.”

  “Not even if it’s to beg you to spank me again?”

  I groan low in my throat. This wife of mine is going to kill me in the absolute best of ways. “Only if you beg.”

  She scrambles off my lap, a sultry spark in her eyes as she gets down on her knees in front of me. “I’m yours to command.”

  Oh, fuck. “Take my pants off, but remove your dress first.”

  Her dress goes flying across the room, leaving her gloriously bare to me. Her golden skin is smooth and so damn warm to the touch. Her nipples are perfectly hard tips on tits that need to be cupped by my hands. She’s built like a ballerina and looks like goddess. My perfect version of Wonder Woman in real life.

  She unbuttons my pants, and I lift my hips to help her drag them off. Next to go are my boxer briefs... then her hands are on my cock, her lips on the head, and I’m in heaven.

  I fight the urge to lay back and allow her to have her way with me. Instead, I sit above her, watching as she pleasures me. She brings me so much joy that I’m a second away from telling her as much.

  I wrap my hand in her thick hair, urging her to take me deeper. To let my cock hit the back of her throat. She bobs her head, taking as much as she can while her clever fingers play with my balls.

  “Are you trying to make me come?”

  She lifts her lashes, her mouth stretched wide over my dick, and I almost come right then.

  “I asked you a question.”

  She ignores me, taking my cock even deeper.

  I groan loudly, bite out a few choice curse words, and allow her to have this power over me. Not that she needs to know it. Although, I suspect she already does.

  With a grimace, I push her away. When my erection pops free of her mouth, she moans in disappointment and starts to pout.

  “Bend over the chest of drawers.” When she doesn’t move fast enough, I pull her up, smack her round ass, and usher her over to the piece of furniture.

  “Like this?” She places her hands on the top and pushes her ass in the air, gazing at me in the mirror.

  “Exactly like that.” I grab her hips and pull her to me, my cock nudging against her pussy. She’s so damn wet, and I know it’s from sucking on my cock. “I don’t care how much you beg, wild child, I’m not stopping until you come at least two times before I finish.”

  “Only two?” She frowns and I smack her ass again, harder this time. Her eyes close in pure pleasure. “Three, please.”

  I run my free hand up her thigh, shoving two fingers in her pussy while my thumb plays with her tight hole. “Where should I put my cock, gorgeous?”

  “Wherever you want, sir.”

  She plays the submissive coquette so well it’s almost believable.

  “That’s the right answer. And for that, I’m going to reward you.” I drop to my knees and press my mouth against her, eating her pussy until her thighs are trembling and she’s moaning my name. I keep my fingers moving inside of her, my thumb flirting with her ass. It’s not the easiest of moves, but it’s one I’ve perfected over the years.

  Just for her, though.

  Only with her.

  Despite my reputation, I’ve never been a manwhore or a playboy.

  “Tate, I’m going to come.”

  I lift my head. “Already?”

  “Put your mouth back on me.”

  I allow her order without punishing... at least not at first. Slowly, I inch her closer and closer to the edge until she pushing back and moaning in frustration.

  “Please, Tate. Stop torturing me and let me come. Please.”

  I’ve never been able to listen to her say please. It kills me because all I want to do is make things right and make her happy. A character flaw to be sure, but with the right person, it’s a strong point.

  I flick my tongue against her clit, shoving my fingers deep. She goes off like a rocket, her scream so loud I’m pretty sure my windows are rattling and my crystal gla
sses are shattering. I redouble my efforts, alternating between flicking and sucking on her swollen clit as her inner muscles clench my fingers until she’s trying to evade me.

  “I can’t. Please. Tate. I can’t right now,” she pants.

  I kiss my way up her thigh and stand, positioning myself at her entrance. While she stares at me in the mirror, I suck her juices off the two fingers I used to get her off.

  “That’s so freaking hot. I don’t care if it’s overdone or if I don’t taste like a peach or sweet or whatever. It’s so hot, Tate, when you do that,” she says, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright.

  With one steady thrust, I sink inside of her. “Then you’ll be happy to hear how good you tasted, like a ripe peach and—”

  She twists her hips, sending me so deep I bottom out. I groan her name, my eyes closing. My hips move of their own accord and I grab her waist, holding on tightly.

  When she whimpers, my eyes fly open only to feel her fingers brush against my length. Jerking my attention to the mirror, I discover what I’d hoped to see. She’s pleasuring herself while I fuck her, making sure to touch me at the same time.

  I’m not going to last.

  Quinn catches my gaze, then takes those fingers she’s stroking her pussy with right to her mouth. She pushes the slim digits coated in her own juices inside, flicking her tongue around them before sucking them deep. Her eyes flutter shut, as if she’s savoring the taste.

  “Mmm. You’re right. I do taste like peaches,” she says, her slick fingers tracing her lips before moving lower.

  “If you’re going to come again, you’d better to do it fast.” Widening my stance, I thrust into her hard. So hard the chest of drawers moves. The earth quakes, and a tingle starts at the base of my spine.

  “Shit, Quinn.”

  I let it run up me, all the way to my head, and just when it feels as if the top is about to blow off, she’s crying out and I’m pumping inside of her, filling her up with my come.

  My legs are boneless, knees weak, as I pull out of her. I attempt to get us to the shower so we can clean up, but Quinn shakes her head.

  “Don’t care. I’ll be messy with you in bed.”

  I snag a clean t-shirt from the drawer, then toss it to her. “Here.”