Page 70 of Forgotten Vows

I guide Adriana to a booth in the back corner, my hand at the small of her back. She changed into fresh jeans and a black silk sleeveless blouse, nothing too fancy, but she's the most beautiful woman in the room. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

"What do you want to drink?" I ask as we slide into the booth.

"I don't know." She looks around, taking in the space, and I can see her cataloging exits, assessing threats. Old habits from living in Gio's world. "I've never had anything other than wine at family dinners, remember? I didn't exactly go out over the last ten years. What do you recommend?"

"The whiskey's good here. Irish, obviously." I catch the bartender's eye and hold up two fingers. He nods and starts pouring.

Adriana's quiet for a moment, her fingers tracing patterns on the scarred wood of the table. Then she looks up at me, something vulnerable in her expression. "This feels strange," she says. "Being out like this. Like normal people."

"We are normal people." I reach across the table, covering her hand with mine. "We're just two people having a drink. That's all."

"Are we?" She doesn't pull her hand away, but I can feel the tension in her fingers. "Because it doesn't feel normal. It feels like we're pretending."

"We're not pretending." The bartender appears with our drinks, setting them down without a word before disappearing again. I pick up my glass, taking a sip of the whiskey. It burns going down, smooth and familiar. "This is real, Adriana. This is our life now."

She picks up her own glass, studying the amber liquid. "I want to believe that."

"Then believe it." I lean forward, holding her gaze. "I know it's hard. I know you're scared. But I'm going to prove to you that this can work. That we can have this."

She takes a tentative sip of her whiskey and coughs, her eyes watering. "Oh God," she says with a laugh. "That's so strong."

"It is straight whiskey." My lips twitch, and she glares at me.

"Why would you do that to me?"

"I like seeing you flushed." I reach out and touch her cheek. "And I want to be the reason you try new things."

"This is all new." She coughs again, pressing a hand to her chest. "And you can make me flushed without killing me, Lachlan."

The innuendo and the sound of my name on her lips are all it takes to get me instantly hard. I stifle a groan, taking another sip of whiskey, and motion to the bartender to make her a different drink.

"I like making you laugh," I say quietly, and Adriana meets my eyes.

"I saw you today," she says quietly. "With Matteo. The way you were with him, so patient, gentle. Teaching him things. Making himlaugh." She pauses, and I can see the emotion in her eyes. "That's the Lachlan I remember. The boy I fell in love with."

My whiskey sticks in my throat, and I swallow hard, forcing it down as I try to breathe. She's never said anything like that since I brought her here. Never acknowledged that the person I was still exists somewhere inside the man I've become.

"He's still here," I say, and my voice is rough. "I'm still here, Adriana. I never stopped being that person. I just—" I stop, trying to find the right words. "I had to become someone else to survive. To build something strong enough to protect you. But with you, with Matteo—I can be who I was. Who I want to be."

She's quiet for a long moment. Then she reaches across the table, her hand covering mine.

"I want to believe that too," she whispers.

The bartender brings her a Bee's Knees, and she likes that, the drink going down easier. I order her another, and another whiskey for me, and we just talk for a little while. She tells me about Matteo's favorite foods and the books he likes to read. I tell her about Chicago, about the neighborhoods I want to show her, the restaurants we can take Matteo to, places I'd like to take her out on fancy dates. I spin dream after dream out in front of her, showing her all the bricks of the life I want us to build.

I'm halfway through my second whiskey when Adriana excuses herself to go to the bathroom. I watch her walk away, admiring the curve of her hips in those jeans, the way her hair falls down her back. My wife.Mine.

I make it all of thirty seconds before I follow her.

The bathroom is down a narrow hallway at the back of the bar, past the kitchen. I can hear the clatter of dishes, the low murmur of the cook talking to someone. The women's room door is closed, and I push it open, glad to see that it's empty except for Adriana's feet under one stall door.

I push a chair in front of the door and under the handle, keeping it closed, and lean against the sink, waiting for her. When she comes out, she stops short, her eyes widening when she sees me.

"Lachlan—"

I don't let her finish. I push off the wall, backing her against the sink. "What are you doing?" Her voice is breathless, and I can see the pulse jumping in her throat.

"I can't wait to get you home." I grab her hip with one hand, the other sliding up her throat, feeling her pulse. "Fuck, Adri, I've been hard since you made that joke at the table. I want to finish our drinks with my cum inside you."