Page 25 of Razor
I nodded."Went down easy.The excitement of the day wore him out."
Razor's posture eased slightly at the mention of my son."Good.That's good."He rolled his shoulders as if trying to shake off lingering tension."Coffee?"
"I'll make some," I offered, turning toward the kitchen, grateful for a practical excuse to keep my hands busy.
We moved around each other with awkward care, still learning the dance of shared space.I found mugs while Razor measured coffee grounds, our hands occasionally brushing as we worked.The domestic simplicity of the task felt strange after the intensity of the past few days.
Minutes later, we sat across from each other at the kitchen table, steaming mugs between us, the only sound the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the distant tick of a clock from somewhere in the living room.
"So," I ventured finally."Your meeting...was it about us?"
Razor's eyes met mine over his coffee mug."Partly."He took a sip, clearly weighing his words."Filled in Mustang—our president—on the marriage.Made sure he understood the situation."
"And did he?"I wrapped my fingers around my mug, absorbing its warmth."Understand, I mean?"
"He's putting out feelers.Seeing if there's any official search for you and Dante."Razor's tone was measured, careful.I sensed he was editing, softening whatever had actually transpired at the clubhouse.
"But?"I prompted, hearing the unspoken qualification in his words.
His mouth tightened briefly."But the club has other priorities too.Business coming up that needs attention."
I nodded slowly, unsurprised."Of course.I don't expect your entire club to drop everything for us."
"You should," he said, an unexpected edge sharpening his voice."You're my wife now.That carries weight in our world."
The fierce conviction in his tone caught me off guard.This wasn't only about our arrangement anymore—the protection-for-marriage deal we'd made.His reaction carried possessiveness and real investment, deeper than I'd expected this quickly.
"I want to make this work," I said, choosing my words carefully."Make the house more homey for Dante.Maybe look into enrolling him in preschool nearby?He needs normal routines, other kids to play with."
Razor nodded, some of the tension leaving his shoulders."There's a good one about ten minutes from here.Already checked it out—solid security, good reputation."
Of course he'd already researched preschools.The man left nothing to chance.
"And I was thinking—" I started, but was interrupted by a sharp buzz from the counter where Razor had placed a phone I didn't recognize.
He grabbed it, checking the display before answering."Yeah."His eyes flickered to me."She's right here."
He extended the phone."Your brother."
My heart leapt as I took the device."Pretty Boy?"
"Hey, little sister."My brother's voice, slightly distorted but unmistakable, brought an unexpected rush of tears to my eyes."How's married life treating you?"
"We just got to the house today," I said, wiping my eyes with my free hand."It's...it's good.Dante's already asleep in his new room."
"The kid settling in okay?"
"Better than okay.Razor got him a race car bed.He's in heaven."
There was a brief pause, then, "And Razor?He treating you right?"
I glanced up to find Razor watching me, his dark eyes unreadable."Yes," I answered honestly."Better than I expected.Better than I deserve, probably."
"Good," Pretty Boy said firmly."Because I'd hate to have to come handle my brother-in-law.Makes family gatherings awkward."
I laughed despite myself."I've missed you."
"Missed you too, Lia.But you're where you need to be now.Tyler and his goons came sniffing around the clubhouse yesterday, by the way.Playing all nice and concerned."
