Bitter Arrangement: Chapter 13

I don’t want to leave the bathroom.

It’s safe in here. I can pretend like Alexan isn’t lying in bed right now, shirtless, looking like a tattooed sex god. I tried to tell him to put more clothes on, but he only grumbled about sleeping warm, which is somehow also hot as hell and left me all flustered.

So now I’m hiding.

“Get it together,” I whisper at my reflection. I’m in normal pajamas, cotton shorts and a basic white tee, though he did leave one of his dress shirts out to tease me earlier. I was tempted to smell it, which I know is totally deranged, but still.

I spent most of the day getting unpacked. That was kind of fun, actually. Brenden helped out a little bit, but when he left, Alexan lurked around, grumbling and glaring at every little thing. I put out a few decorative plants, some of my nice pillows on the couch, and my favorite impressionist landscape painting of an old Maryland fishing boat. Each new item made my husband grimace and wince like I was stabbing him with rusty forks.

All things considered, a very successful first day in my new home.

At least until night came. He disappeared into his office to work and slammed the door, which left me to wander around our room. I hung clothes in the closet, put stuff in the drawers he cleared out for me, and kept flinching whenever I thought I heard the murder drone floating around. And all the while, I kept thinking about the bed, the shirt, and his voice urging me to get myself off.

“Don’t be a coward,” I say and force myself away from the mirror. I adjust my messy red bun and nod to myself. “He’s just some guy.”

I open the door and step out into the bedroom.

But he’s not just some guy.

Alexan looks over. He’s got glasses perched on his nose and a book in his hands, some history thing about the Roman Empire. I stare at him, heart hammering in my chest, as I look at all his tattoos: vicious wolves, bloody roses, dozens of gang symbols, and more than a few tears down his biceps.

“I didn’t know you could read,” I blurt out, which isn’t what I meant to say at all. “I mean, crap, I mean I didn’t know you needed glasses to read.”

His smirk suggests he knows how uncomfortable I am right now. “They’re just cheaters. I’m getting old.”

“You look good in them.” I don’t know why I say it, but it’s true. The contrast between his hard, scary, muscular tattooed body and the intelligence dancing behind his eyes is intoxicating. I know this man is deadly, but he’s obviously smart, too.

“You look good too.” He closes the book. “You’d look better in my shirt, though.”

“Get over it,” I mutter and throw myself into bed. I pull the sheets over my head. “Lights out whenever you want.”

“Lights out,” he says, and the lights turn off.

“Now you’re just showing off.”

“A little bit.” I can hear the smile in his voice. He adjusts himself, rocking the whole bed. My body rings, and my heart judders as he gets into position. I swear, I can feel heat rolling from him, even though we’re on opposite sides with plenty of room between us.

“Right. Goodnight.” I close my eyes and try to think sleepy thoughts. Trees in a breeze. A babbling brook. Alexan bathing naked in a lake. Shit, that’s not helping.

“I thought we should talk a little bit,” he says, shifting closer to me.

“Easy there.” I roll onto my back and frown. My vision hasn’t adjusted yet, and he’s just a blur in the dark. “Don’t cross into my territory.”

“All this is mine, if you’ll recall. And maybe you forgot, but you and I have business.”

My mouth goes dry. My core spasms with the thought of his dirty lips against my throat. I hate how badly I want to have sex with this guy, even though he’s nothing but an ice-cold prick.

Only right now, under the covers, he’s deadly hot.

“It’s our first night together,” I whisper, cheeks pink. I’m thankful he can’t see me right now; otherwise, he’d know I’m mortified, and that my nipples are also rock hard with excitement.

There’s a short silence. Then a low, throaty chuckle. “That’s not what I meant, baby, but I’m happy to know where your head’s at.”

“What else could you mean by business?” I say, annoyed and frustrated.

“The watch.”

I resist a groan. Right, of course, the watch. I’ve been so busy trying to transition to this new life that I keep forgetting the life-or-death trouble I dragged us both into.

“Look, you know I didn’t mean to cause all this, right?” I ask him.

“I know that,” he admits, which is actually kind of nice. “But we still need to figure out how we’re going to appease Mantis while also making sure they don’t want to kill either of us.”

I chew on a lip, considering, but I’m having trouble thinking. “What do you suggest? Since I’m guessing you have some ideas.”

He grunts slightly and shifts again. Getting closer to me?

“First, I want to find out what’s on the hard drive. Once I can figure out why they want it back, I can come up with a plan to deal with it.”

“Okay, great, that should be easy, right?”

“Wrong.” His voice is inches from my ear now. Definitely closer. “The drive is encrypted. It’s totally useless right now, at least until I can figure out how to decrypt it.”

“Good thing you’re a hacker genius.”

“Good thing,” he agrees. “In the meantime, I need you to keep a low profile. Don’t go out if you don’t have to.”

“You’re locking me up now?”

“No, I’m not, but I will if I have to.”

“Good luck with that.”

He laughs lightly. I feel his breath on my skin and smell mint and coriander. I close my eyes, trying not to shiver with excitement.

“You’re good at getting into places you don’t belong,” he whispers, and I feel a finger stroke up my bare thigh.

“Hey, easy with that,” I say, trembling as I gently swat him back.

He doesn’t seem fazed. “You’re right, I doubt I could keep you prisoner here even if I wanted. That’s why I’m asking. For the next month, try not to take any risks.”

Okay, that’s reasonable, even if it annoys me a little bit. “I’ll do my best.” I turn onto my side and look right into his face. Fuck, he’s handsome. “Why don’t we just steal the decryption key from Jeremy Fong?”

He licks his teeth again, and my mouth absolutely waters at the thought of that tongue invading my lips again, just like on our wedding day.

“That’s not an option. He might seem benign, but trust me, Iron Head is a serious player.”

“I wish you’d stop calling him that. It sounds like a bad gamer tag.”

He ignores me. “I’ll find a way to break it tomorrow. In the meantime, no trouble.” He pauses, and I think that’s the end of the conversation, but he doesn’t roll over. Instead, he asks, “Where’d you learn how to pickpocket, by the way?”

My eyebrows raise. “Are you trying to get to know me?”

“You’re my wife now. I might as well.”

“Don’t sound too enthusiastic.”

“I’m serious, I really want to know about you.”

I hesitate, not sure if I really want to reveal much of myself to this man, but decide it can’t hurt. “My older brother. He works as part of the heist team for our family.”

“Heist team?” I can see his dark smile across from me. It’s much, much too close.

“They plan jobs and carry them out all over the country. Brenden taught me how to break locks, case a target, steal a car, basic pickpocketing, all that stuff.”

“Just like a totally normal older brother should.”

“You seriously want to judge me right now?”

“Not at all, baby, not at all. I’m only teasing.” I grind my jaw, annoyed at how amused he sounds. “It sounds like you really took to his lessons, though.”

“I was good at it. I guess I have a knack.”

“Why’s that, do you think? Stealing runs in the family?”

“No, asshole.” I nudge him with my elbow lightly. “I was a pretty good gymnast back in high school, right?”

“I’ve seen how flexible you are,” he murmurs.

I’m thankful that the lights are out because I start blushing like crazy. “Anyway, I think that helped with the dexterity stuff. You know, picking locks and lifting wallets just takes a soft touch. I learned a lot of that in gymnastics, and I just had to apply it a little differently, that’s all.”

“But why stealing? You could have taken up any hobby in the world. Why did your brother’s heist work interest you?”

I don’t answer at first. I think back to those early days when I first graduated high school but wasn’t going to college. I was lost back then, drifting around and looking for something to do, and Brenden’s the one who came along to give me purpose.

“It started small,” I say finally. “Just basic lockpicking. I was pretty good at it, so I asked him to show me more. I don’t know, but it just seemed fun.”

“It seemed fun,” he repeats like he’s tasting the words. “That’s not all of it, though.”

“Do I really need another reason? Come on, you’re the computer hacker. You basically do the same thing as me, only online.”

“That’s a fair point,” he concedes, “but my cybercrimes are for money. From what I can tell, stealing isn’t your job.”

I chew my lip, considering how much to divulge. “Living with my dad hasn’t always been easy,” I say after another pause.

“How does your father connect back to stealing?”

“He’s always made me feel like I’m not good enough.” Why am I telling him all this right now? I feel naked and vulnerable, and I’m terrified he’s going to judge me. “Brenden showed me I could take control of something for once in my life. It didn’t matter what my father thought when I was out on a job, scaling a wall, shoving my way through a window, cracking a safe, whatever. Out there, I was the one in charge, and that feels good.”

He lets out a soft grunt like he understands. “You want control.”

“Exactly. Control. I haven’t had much of that in my life.” I laugh lightly, trying to act like this is no big deal and I’m totally not baring my soul to a literal stranger. “Honestly, picking locks wasn’t that fun until Brenden let me actually break in somewhere. Then I was totally hooked. It’s never been about the money for me, and I’ll never sell anything in my collection. I steal to feel free.”

I close my eyes. It’s strange vocalizing this. I’ve always known why I steal deep down inside, but I’ve never said the words out loud before.

I’m an impulsive person, but above all, I yearn to have a sense of control over my life and my surroundings. Living under my father’s roof hasn’t always been the best for my self-esteem, but the second I started breaking into places I didn’t belong⁠—

Well, suddenly, I was the one in charge, and nobody could stop me.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” He puts a hand on my thigh. It’s big and warm, and a shiver runs up my spine. “I really meant it when I said I want to know you, Riley.”

“Yeah? I’m not just some random Irish wife?”

“Well, you’re that, but we’re in this together now.” His fingers tighten their grip. “For better or worse.”

I push his hand away. “Mostly for worse.” I turn my back on him, suddenly too aware of what we’re doing. He’s getting closer and closer, he’s touching me, we’re lying in bed together in the middle of the night, and it’s too much. I know where this goes. I know how it ends.

With me barefoot and pregnant.

Good luck robbing anything with a big old baby bump.

Maybe I shouldn’t retreat, but I’m also not ready to take that next step.

“Goodnight, Alexan,” I say, pulling the covers tighter around me.

“Goodnight, wife,” he says softly in that beautiful velvet voice of his. “Wear the shirt tomorrow night.” Then he shifts over to his side of the bed, giving me much-needed space.

I close my eyes and smile into the darkness.

Maybe I will.