Rival
Page 35“Father, this is Madoc Caruthers. My . . . fiancé.” Madoc and I exchanged sideways glances and smiled.
In one respect it felt strange to say “fiancé” when I’d never even called Madoc my boyfriend.
“What?” Father McCaffrey’s jaw hung open.
Right away my heart started to sink. He was going to put up a fight.
“Father, I know this is unusual—”
“Father.” Madoc stepped forward, interrupting. “We’d like to get married. Can you handle that for us or not?”
Way to sweet-talk him, dude.
“When?” Father asked.
“Now.” Madoc tipped his chin down like an adult speaking to a child. “Right here, right now.”
Father’s eyes about popped out. “Here?” he gasped, and I almost laughed.
I had actually thought I’d coerce Father McCaffrey back over to the church a few blocks away, but Madoc seemed to want to get down to business. Fine by me. If I had a choice between a staunchy Clerk’s Office, a drafty church, or an old Irish pub smelling of furniture polish and Guinness, I’d rather be here. The wooden bar and tables and chairs all shined with the afternoon sun pouring in through the windows, and the green curtains made the place feel comfortable and homey.
“Father,” I started, “when you’re not in the church, you’re at the bar, and we’re ready.”
“Fallon, shouldn’t you be waiting for your father’s blessing, dear?” The worry was clear all over his face.
“My father,” I stated firmly, “trusts my judgment. You should as well, Father.”
Madoc grabbed my hand, slid the ring off my finger, and set it down with the marriage license and the silver band he had picked out for himself this morning on the table.
“Marry us, please, or we’ll have to go to the courthouse with or without the Church’s blessing. That is something her father won’t like.”
Jared snorted behind us, and I looked back to see him and Tate trying to bite back smiles.
Glad they were enjoying this. Sweat broke out across my forehead.
Father McCaffrey sat there, and so did everyone at the table. They looked between Father and us, I looked between Father and Madoc, and Father looked between Madoc and me.
I wasn’t sure whose move it was, but I didn’t think it was ours.
Father finally stood up, and slipping his hand inside his vest, he pulled out a pen and leaned down, signing the paper.
I dipped my head, a huge smile stretching my face. Madoc turned to me, cupping my face, and leaned down to plant a soft kiss on my lips.
“Are you ready?” he whispered.
He nodded, his forehead rubbing against mine. “Definitely. As long as we can have five later.”
“Five?!”
Jared cleared his throat, bringing our attention back to the people around us, while Madoc laughed under his breath. I took a deep breath and swallowed.
Yeah, we were going to have to talk about that later.
Father brought us around to sign our parts under “Groom” and “Bride,” and then Jared and Tate came around to sign as witnesses, also having to print their names at the bottom with Father McCaffrey as the officiant.
“Everyone quiet now!” Father shouted to the fifteen or so people in the bar. They quieted down and turned to us, finally noticing what was going on behind them. The bar fell silent as the music was cut off, and Madoc turned to me, taking my hands in his as they hung down between us.
Father began the short service, but I barely heard him as I looked up at Madoc. His blue eyes that always held a bit of mischief. His angular jaw and high cheekbones that looked even more amazing when they were wet from a pool or shower. His broad shoulders that could encapsulate me with warmth.
But what I thought of most as Father bound us together was how little I was thinking about myself right now. Forever since I can remember, I’d thought about how much I hated my mother or missed my father. I thought about the disappointment and the anger, the wrongs and the loneliness.
I dwelled on the past, not realizing that it kept me from moving forward.
Now it was gone.
It wasn’t forgotten, of course. It just didn’t matter anymore.
This was my future, and as Madoc put the ring on my finger, I knew the best part of my past was right here with me.
I glanced at Tate, who watched with love in her eyes, and Jared, who had his arm around her, and the happy tears spilled down my cheeks.
Madoc smiled, grabbing me by the back of my neck and gently bringing my head into his chest. “Finish, Father,” he ordered over my head. “She needs to be kissed.”
The laughter in his voice was intoxicating. And I definitely needed to be kissed.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Madoc wasted no time. Wrapping a quick arm around my waist, he hauled me off of my feet and kissed me hard, his lips shooting a lightning bolt of desire from my mouth straight down to my stomach. I held his face in my hands, and turning my head to the side, I kissed him back with full force.
Keeping me locked to him, he turned us and walked us out of the small space.
“Thank you.” I grinned back at Father McCaffrey over Madoc’s shoulder.
Madoc called to the bartender over my shoulder. “Do you have any music?”
“U2,” the middle-aged guy answered.Madoc scowled. “Is that it?”
He sighed. “Something slow then.”
Lowering his hands, he cupped the bottom of my thighs and brought my legs up and around his waist. Next thing I knew chairs started grinding against the floor, and when I looked around, everyone in the bar was pushing back the table sets to make a dance floor.
U2’s “All I Want Is You” started spilling softly out of the speakers, haunting at first as it drifted into our ears. Madoc started swaying from one foot to the other, moving us from side to side. I put my forehead to his, listening to him whisper the words to the song and fighting back the burn in my eyes. As the song built stronger and louder and we moved more, spinning slowly and every once in a while, I placed a kiss on his lips.
All I want is you.
CHAPTER 29
MADOC
As soon as we left Sovereign’s, Fallon and I drove to the Waldorf Astoria for our honeymoon night. Tate thought we should all go out to dinner, but Jared got the hint.
The whole drive there, as the valet took the car, and during check-in I kept rubbing the inside of my pinky finger over the flat fit platinum wedding band. The discomfort of something new when I never wore jewelry—except for my piercing—contrasted to the hum I felt in my hand.
It was weird, but it was also powerful.
The ring reminded me that I was Fallon’s. It reminded me that I was her protector, her lover, and her partner.
Eventually it occurred to me that the ring also meant I couldn’t come and go as I like, I couldn’t look at other women, and I was probably the only person in my high school graduating class that had a wife already, but I didn’t care much about what others thought now.
I was cool with this. It was right for us.
By the time we reached the elevator, Fallon’s hands were doing things that technically weren’t allowed in public, and I was really f**king glad Jared and Tate had given us space.
Fallon had her hand under my coat, kneading my lower back. She was burying her nose in my chest as I walked with my arm around her. Her eyes were looking up at me saying everything that was in her head but couldn’t leave her lips.
As soon as the elevator doors closed, I pushed her into the wall and leaned down into her face, her hot breath rushing against mine.
“Fallon Caruthers,” I challenged, pushing hard against her body. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?”
Her fingers started working the button of my shirt under my open jacket. “I’m sorry,” she panted against my lips. “I’m just really ready for my husband right now.”
And all at once her hands were inside my shirt, all over my bare chest, and my bottom lip was between her teeth. I grabbed her by the back of her thighs and hauled her up against the wall, diving into her mouth and tasting the raw heat that sent my c**k jerking and hardening. I needed to get these f**king clothes off of her.
“And I’m not changing my name,” she said between kisses.
I felt the laugh in my throat that I thought would be a really bad idea to let loose right now.
It was my wedding night. I wanted to get laid, after all.
“Yes, you will,” I stated matter-of-factly as I put my hand between her legs and rubbed.
Dragging her by the arm, I dug the card key out of my coat pocket.
“Well, I’ll hyphenate it then,” Fallon mumbled behind me, and I took a second to remember she was talking about our last names.
“No, you won’t.” I slipped the key in, opened the door, and pulled her in. “Hyphenating your name is like saying ‘I just don’t want to admit defeat’ when the truth is women who hyphenate their names have already lost. Men don’t hyphenate their names.” I pointed out, slamming the door behind me as I dug my slow heels into the plush carpet, stalking her. “Now. You are going to be Fallon Caruthers, because you love me, you want to make me happy, and you want everyone to know that you’re mine.”
She had about enough time to drop her jaw and for anger to flare in her eyes before I was on her. Taking the hair at the back of her head, I pulled it down to expose her neck, and I sunk my lips and teeth in, biting and kissing so hard and soft that she wouldn’t know which end was up.
Truth was I was an easygoing guy. For the most part. But my wife would have my name, or else.
It wasn’t about controlling her, and it wasn’t about stealing her identity or whatever women liked to claim these days. It was about unity. We and our kids someday would have the same goddamn name, and that was it.
Hopefully she knew when some battles weren’t worth fighting.
And that’s when it hit me.
I pulled back and closed my eyes, running my hands through my hair.
Kids.
“Shit,” I groaned. “I forgot condoms.”
I heard her sympathetic exhale that sounded almost like a laugh. I looked up, scowling. This wasn’t funny. I was harder than a rock right now.
“I’m sorry.” She waved away the angry expression on my face. “We’re fine, Madoc. I’ve been on birth control for a long time, actually. Ever since . . .”
Her eyes dropped.
The knot in my heart twisted tighter and tighter, and without hesitation, I scooped her up into my arms and carried her into the bedroom.
Ever since the abortion, she was going to say.
Since I’d found out about it, I’d had a hell of a time figuring out how I felt about it. I wished we’d had the kid, but I’m glad we didn’t. Which didn’t make sense, but it kind of did.
On the one hand, I hated that Fallon had to go through that. I hated that we weren’t more careful. I hated that she was alone. I hated that someone else—someone I hate—made a decision about my kid without me.
On the other hand, I knew we were too young. I knew it probably would’ve changed our lives in a way that wouldn’t have been beneficial. I knew that I wanted a house full of kids someday, but I didn’t want them yet.
Final verdict: I’ll be a good father. And I’m glad I get to wait to find out for sure.
Setting Fallon down next to the bed, I planted my lips on her, damn near chewing on her I was in so much need, and ripped off my coat and shirt. After I’d kicked off my shoes, I started working the button and zipper of her jeans.