No Magic Moment (Secrets of Stone Book 4) by Angel Payne, Victoria Blue Read Free Book Online Page B

damn fishwife, nagging you about taking out the trash. I’m the woman who loves you—”
    “Margaux—”
    “And the woman you just proposed to.” She pushed off and stepped back. “Unless you were really just fucking around or something.”
    A hundred switches of fury flipped in my blood. “Did I sound like I was fucking around?”
    She folded her arms. “You want an honest answer to that?”
    “Dammit.” I muttered it while dipping my head, confirming I’d already figured that part out. I’d really turned this into a crap pile, hadn’t I? Yeah, even knowing that the woman didn’t let me keep calling her “princess” just because it was a pretty word. Sometimes—a lot of times—she yearned for petticoats and chivalry, for old-fashioned school desks and rules she could push…and for a marriage proposal from a Disney movie, my knee on the ground and her ring on a pillow.
    “I thought we were talking about you .”
    “Which equates to you , dumb shit.” Now she poured herself more Aberlour. “That’s the way it still works, right? ‘The two shall become one’? ‘Lookin’ at the other half of me’? ‘Anywhere you go, let me go, too’?”
    I sucked in air through my nose. Muttered back, “Yeah. That’s how it still works.”
    “So maybe you have something to tell me ?”
    I ground my jaw. Not without serving you a heaping plate of ugly, my love. Not without showing you my deepest pain, my worst shame—and my darkest fear. That you’ll take one look and decide this prince was more than you bargained for.
    “Michael.” Forget princess. She stamped both syllables with queenly command, setting aside her drink to stand before me. I’d conjured her as a Highlander just minutes ago; now she was a royal one. Her stance made me wonder if the schoolgirl shirt was about to spring an ermine cape. “We’ve already been through so much. You’ve helped me past so much…”
    I pushed my gaze back into hers. All her fire, spirit, passion, and love waited for me. I swallowed past a tight throat. She was so beautiful—and deserved to live every day knowing that. “I’m glad,” I murmured. “No. I’m delirious. What I said, earlier…it wasn’t just words for the middle of a good screw. I’ll be here for you, baby. Always.”
    Her lips tightened. “And I love you for it. But that’s only half of what we are. I need to be your safe place, too.”
    I lifted my hands toward her hips. She stepped out of reach again—dammit. She was keeping this shit real—free and clear of any pheromones, hormones, or chemistry that could get in the way.
    “I’m not hallucinating this, okay?” she asserted. “Don’t think I didn’t learn anything useful from Andrea. The woman didn’t know a lullaby from a rock ballad, but she sure as hell taught me how to spot a person holding back secrets.” Her head cocked, emphasizing the muss of her hair, piling more arousal onto my tension. “You think I’ve simply ‘written it off’ that you call the police substation in Julian every week to check on the farm—not Carlo, your mom, or anyone at the farm? Speaking of your mom, do you really think I don’t see those strange glances you trade with her, when you assume I’m preoccupied with my phone? Are you assuming I’ve forgotten the bruises she disguised with makeup, when we went to visit over the Fourth of July?”
    A lot of times, silence was really the best response. I banked on that now.
    “For all your talk of wanting to help with my pieces, you’re still holding back a shit pile of yours from me, Michael.” She swallowed so hard, I heard the lump slam the bottom of her throat. Note to self: rethink the silence-is-best thing. “If you think I’m pissed off,” she pushed on, “then think again. You’re not pissing me off. You’re breaking my heart.”
    Hell.
    I reached for her again. She stumbled back again. Sometimes, being bigger and faster came in handy. I captured her after two steps, yanking her