Vote Then Read: Volume II

by Lauren Blakely

  Gray stared back at me, bored.

  If there was one thing I could trust, it was Gray’s unyielding arrogance about being a Crowne. This could work. This could save Abigail.

  I grinned. “See you around then, brother-in-law.”

  Gray glowered at my words as I pushed open the door into the bright summer sun.

  Outside I caught a rare glimpse of Beryl Crowne getting out of his town car. He froze when he saw me, halfway in the car.

  “Was it worth it, Theo?” he asked, straightening, righting his lapels. “Was it worth losing all of this?” He gestured around him, at the sprawling palatial home. “You could’ve climbed high.”

  For five years I’d stared at the back of Beryl Crowne. In some twisted way, I think he cared for me. In this world, that was the best you can hope for. A mother who played games with her daughter’s love, a father figure who chose when you looked him in the eye.

  “It was never about this. It was always about her.”

  I kept walking, down the cobblestone path so long most drove up it, past hedges and glittering fountains, and out of the wrought iron gate that Abigail Crowne had opened for me.

  I had one stop to make before I found her.

  It was time to let the world know she belonged to me, that we belonged to each other.

  Abigail had put a photo of some random shadow on the cover, so if I wanted, I could go and find her, live in the background like I had been—but Abigail was mine. She was mine the day she gave me that bracelet.

  The Crowne Point Tribune offices were on Main Street, one of the original old-style buildings marking the street. It had been touched up, the Carolina-blue shingles and white trim bright in the sun. Very nautical, and very Crowne Point.

  There was no going back. I could put it all on the line, and she could leave me. I could lose her. At a distance, I’d always have Abigail in some way, but she’d never be mine.

  Today I would catch her. I would keep her. I would never let her go.

  I just hope it isn’t too late.

  I pushed open the door into a too air-conditioned room. The receptionist looked up at me with bored interest.

  “I’m Theo Hound, Abigail Crowne’s husband.”

  37

  THEO

  Abigail was sitting on the beach, just like I had all those years ago when she’d found me. The sunset glowed orange on her skin, her feet buried inside the sand. Black leather sneakers were beside her. She set her chin on her knees, the sun bright on her cropped white shirt.

  She was a literal dream come true.

  All at once she stood, stumbling in the sand. I was there just in time to catch her. One arm anchored her waist as the ocean glittered citrine in a fading sun. We looked like a still from an old Hollywood movie.

  “Theo,” she breathed.

  I groaned. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say my name.”

  Her grip tightened on my shirt. “What are you doing?”

  I grinned. “Catching you.”

  We had three uninterrupted seconds as she registered my words and the meaning behind them. Then the necessary evil I’d brought to show my love ruined the moment.

  “Abigail,” the horde of paparazzi just a few feet away yelled, cameras flashing.

  Abigail scrambled off me. “What the hell?”

  I trailed my knuckle along her jaw. “You lied to me, sweet girl.” I inclined my head at the ring. She covered it, looking away.

  “No, I didn’t. I should’ve, because you lied to me… but I simply didn’t correct an assumption.”

  “So, a Crowne lie.”

  She shrugged. “Old habits.”

  Another moment passed. “Is that why they’re here? Do they think it’s you? Theo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into the spotlight.”

  I stuck my tongue into my cheek to keep from smiling. “My little reject always getting in over her head. What did you say? Something about in public and proud. And about not wanting my burgers… you’re going to regret that.”

  I unrolled the magazine I’d brought with me, handing it to her. She held the glossy pages, a line forming between her brows as she read the headline.

  ABIGAIL CROWNE’S SECRET HUSBAND REVEALED.

  I grasped her chin, pulling her eyes back to mine. “Didn’t you know if you made that kind of statement, I was going to cement it? Bind it and wrap it in steel.”

  “No,” she whispered. “I didn’t.”

  I grazed my thumb back and forth across her chin. I wished I could take all the hurt in her eyes away, heal the bruises on her heart. Maybe if I filled her chest with enough bliss, she wouldn’t feel them.

  “I was always afraid to love you, Abigail. At first I thought if I kept my distance just enough, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt when you left me. Then it became, if I keep us distant, we can’t get close enough to break apart. You’re the one person I want to risk everything for. You wanted a grand gesture, this is it, Abigail. That magazine goes out tomorrow, but this is live. The whole world is watching. They know you’re mine. You belong to me. Forever.”

  Something mischievous flickered in her clay eyes. “What if I said no?”

  “It’s too late for that. This is for the world, Abigail. So people like Ned know what it means if they try and take you. So they know who’s going to rip their throat out. But us?” I leaned closer, so the words throbbed along her neck. “There’s no going back. We’ve belonged together for years. I’m keeping you. You don’t get to let me go, Abigail.”

  When I pulled back, there were tears in her eyes.

  I thumbed them away.

  “I’m scared,” she said. “Every time I get close to my happily ever after it always crashes to pieces at my feet.”

  I gripped her jaw tight between my fingers, willing her to feel my determination.

  “Sweet girl,” I said. “I will always be there to pick up those pieces.” She chewed her lip, still uncertain. “I was saving this for… Fuck it.”

  I reached into my back pocket.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Proposing. Properly.”

  Inside was a bracelet, not a ring. It wasn’t anything someone like Ned could give her. It wasn’t worth more than a house. It wouldn’t sparkle in the sun.

  But it meant something, and it was years in the making.

  I grasped her wrist.

  “I’m going to keep you, Abigail.” I clasped the bracelet on her wrist and rubbed the material, loving the way it looked on her.

  Then I looked up, catching her eyes. “Will you let me?”

  She touched the bracelet. “What is all this?”

  “Sea glass from the night you kept me. Origami from the first romance I read—the moment I knew I couldn’t lose you. The wine cork from the night we made love. One bead from the bracelet you gave me, the night I broke it and your heart…” There were key pieces from all the moments in our life, totaling fifteen charms. I hadn’t saved them for this purpose. I’d kept them because I’d wanted something to remember the moments by. When I’d been looking for something to propose to her with… it felt right.

  Abigail always cared more about found treasures than any expensive piece of jewelry. I’d been finding and keeping our treasures secretly for as long as I could remember.

  She touched the F, the bead I’d managed to save the night I nearly wrecked us irrevocably. Silence stretched on and on as she stared at the baubles on her wrist.

  I needed something to break the silence.

  “Bet you wish I’d given you a burger—”

  Abigail jumped at me, and I stumbled back, barely keeping us from falling over. Her legs wrapped around my waist, and I anchored her with my arm.

  The cameras flashed behind us.

  “You… you saved the bead?” she asked, eyes wide, but before I could answer, she asked another question. “You kept all of this?

  “I keep all of you, Abigail. Every laugh you make and every tear you drop. Every
bruise I put on your heart. I keep it all. You’re inside me too. You wove yourself inside me before you even knew who I was.”

  She crashed her lips to mine, furious, hot, fast. I could barely keep up with them, on my lips, on my neck, on my jaw, back to my lips again.

  “Is that a yes?” I asked through her feverous lips.

  She chewed her lip, and I fought the urge to bite it myself.

  “It’s too late for that, Theo.” She lifted her eyes, using my own words. “We’ve belonged together for years. This…” She lifted the bracelet. “This is just for the world.”

  I crashed my mouth against her, kissing her as the world watched, making up for all the times I’d loved in secret. It was furious and gentle, and it wasn’t enough. I wanted to swallow all of her. Her lips, her tongue, her soul.

  I broke on a groan. “I need to get inside you right fucking now.”

  38

  ABIGAIL

  “I’ve always wanted to fuck you on this beach,” Theo said, voice low at my ear. “There were times I wanted to drag you back here and make you pay for finding me, and there were times I wanted to worship you in the sand for saving me.”

  My lips parted. “What do you want to do now?”

  He grinned. “Both.”

  Theo bit my ear, dragging at the lobe, swirling his tongue along the shell. He was so strong and he held me up as if I weighed nothing—I knew that wasn’t true. His focus was on my neck, then my ear, my collarbone.

  I got lost, my head falling back.

  Then I saw them.

  “The paparazzi are still here,” I said on a sigh.

  From their perspective, I was hugging him. He ignored me, popping the button on my jeans with his free hand. He slid his hand under my panties, fingers cool from the beach air, my skin hot. The fact that people—cameras—were feet away only made me hotter.

  His jagged groan ricocheted like shrapnel through my body. I gripped his shoulders for support. “If I wanted to fuck you right now, you would do it.”

  God help me, I would.

  “I won’t give that to you, Reject. I don’t want anyone to see you but me.”

  He slid out of me, and I missed him like my own blood. He let me go, and I clung to him, sliding down his body. He grinned down at me, cocky, pushing hair out of my face with the hand that had just spread me.

  Then he turned to the paparazzi, smile evaporating. “Fuck off.”

  “That doesn’t work with them,” I said. If anything, it fueled them.

  Sure enough, they stayed put.

  Theo rolled his shoulders and closed the distance between us and the paparazzi. He focused on the guy with the video camera, grabbing the lens, smashing the thing to the sand. I was reminded of when he’d first come back to me, the very first times he’d stuck up for me. They yelled something about a lawsuit, cameras flashing with more vehemence. Theo laughed.

  “Unless you want your exclusive to disappear like sand, get the fuck out.” He growled the last bit.

  When they didn’t immediately move, he reached for another camera, and that had them scattering. He looked so intimidating, so Theo.

  They took a slew of photos as they left, and I wondered what they were going to print now. Something about how Abigail Crowne had found someone just like her, maybe. Married a man with no regard for civility, aggressive and rude.

  What a pair they were.

  That worry vanished as Theo came back to me.

  He picked me up, grabbing my thigh and lifting me up, wrapping my legs back around his waist. He buried his face in my neck, biting and sucking.

  “First I’m going to fuck you against the pier, then I’m going to fuck you in the sand. If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you suck my cock.”

  “Splinters,” I managed to breathe against his intoxicating lips.

  He laughed. “Sweet girl, you should be worried about more than splinters.”

  He moved us underneath the pier, but when he backed me against the column, he took off his zip-up hoodie, draping it over my shoulders. I had a very good cushion against splinters.

  My Theo barked, and he bit hard, but when it came to me, he was always so protective.

  My fingers glanced down his chest, to his jeans, unzipping him. I pulled him hot and hard out of his boxer briefs, into my hand. He hissed, tightening the hoodie around my shoulders.

  “I don’t have a condom, Abigail,” Theo said, voice rough.

  “I don’t have any birth control.”

  Our eyes locked. This was my out.

  I wrapped my legs tighter around him, pushing him closer to me, just barely spreading myself.

  “Fuck,” he groaned into my neck. “I’ve missed this pussy.” His teeth found my neck, biting. “I’m going to mark you.” He dragged his teeth along my collarbone. “I’m going to drip down your pussy.”

  He slid a hand up my shirt, palming my breast—bruising.

  I arched on the rough, wooden pole as he pushed deeper but not deep enough. Not nearly.

  “Where you saved me all those years ago, now you’re going to give me everything. No more barriers, no layers between us, nothing hiding that I’m yours and you’re mine.”

  Theo lifted his head enough to find my eyes. The ocean breeze blew soft chocolate strands around his face, softening the hard lines.

  “You might be the artist, but you’re my masterpiece,” he said. “All my life I’ve been painting you on a canvas, and now I’m going to unravel you thread by thread.”

  He captured my lips at the same moment he speared me on his cock.

  The world disappeared into Theo.

  The water nipped at our toes, my head on Theo’s bare chest. I dripped down my thighs, dripped him.

  “I need to clean up,” I murmured into his hot skin.

  In response, Theo cupped me. He stared up at the wood pier, the stars peeking through, lazily spreading his come all over my lips. One finger, then two, slid back inside, pressing it back inside me. The movement was enough to get me hot and prickly.

  “I like feeling me on you,” he said casually, still staring up at the slatted sky.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  His free hand came to my chin, gently tipping it up, until my eyes met his. His head was tilted slightly, eyes narrow, drinking me in as he pressed in and out, in and out, a delirious rhythm. He watched me like he had the first night, only now I was wet with him. Marked—covered—in Theo.

  I was still sore from Theo, but his fingers transmuted the pain into a delicious need. Soon I was working myself against his fingers. Theo using his come as lube was boiling my blood.

  “I like feeling you in me,” I admitted, breathless.

  His grip on my chin tightened, eyes blazing. He flipped me on my side, hot skin flush against mine. His thick, muscled arms wrapped around me, holding me close, his lips on the back of my neck, my ear, my shoulder.

  I felt him at my entrance and I pushed back.

  “Please,” I managed to whimper.

  “Sweet girl.” He groaned my special term of endearment, sliding inside me.

  39

  ABIGAIL

  Theo wiped a bit of sauce from my lips, licking it from his thumb.

  “What?” I asked. He watched me, looking too damn smug. After Theo made true on his promises, we’d dressed and were now getting burgers.

  Theo insisted I needed to be fed.

  “Just picturing your lips dripping with something else.” I looked away from his green eyes, which seemed to glow in the night. “Is Abigail Crowne blushing?” he asked, sounding like a startled Southern belle.

  I glared, taking a bite of my burger.

  I was hungry after the pier. Theo was… insatiable.

  Theo hadn’t stopped touching me. When we walked here, his arm was around me. Now he kept one hand on my shoulder, his other between my thighs. It was intoxicating, distracting, marvelous. I still wore his hoodie, and it was soft and smelled like him. I kept lifting the fabric to my nose, inha
ling the musky, spicy scent.

  “Not Crowne,” I said, dropping the sleeve after Theo gave me a knowing look. “Not anymore. Hound… maybe…” I chewed my lip, nervous at suggesting I take his last name.

  When I looked up, a need blazed in his eyes that nearly floored me. Then a slow, intoxicating smile curved his pink lips and broke his cheeks, white teeth and all.

  Oh. Wow.

  “What did you tell the press?” I asked, blinking out of my stupor.

  “Our story. How you saved me, how I fell in love with you despite our worlds.”

  “Even Ned?” I wondered.

  “The right thing to do would be to tell you it’s your story, and so I didn’t say a word of it.”

  I looked up, peering into his eyes. “So you didn’t tell it?”

  His jaw was hard, and his grip on my thigh tightened. “I’m not a hero.”

  “You’ve always been my hero.”

  He worked his jaw. “Maybe I knew if I told that story with your name attached, you’d be dragged through the mud, so maybe I told a different truth.”

  A wrinkle formed on my brow. “A different truth?”

  Theo told me how he’d painted a picture of Ned as a backstabbing coward who only wanted to marry me to get close to my money.

  “Gray and Gemma helped,” he admitted. “They backed me up and said they would excommunicate him from your world.”

  That would obliterate him.

  He might not go to jail, but he could never show his face in Crowne Point again, or in our world. His reputation would be ruined. For some reason, we lived in a society where it was okay for men to terrorize women, but they could never be foolish, and they could never be weak.

  “They helped?” I couldn’t stop the awe in my voice. Theo nodded, and I grinned and buried my face in his chest. “You’re my hero.”

  He hadn’t told my story, but Ned was ruined anyway.

  “He loved Abigail Crowne,” I mused. “He didn’t know what to do with just Abigail. Now he has to live as just Ned.”