Keep Me (Sinful Manor #1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Is tomorrow your birthday?” Sylvie finds me kneeling in the dirt by the farm. Squinting through the sun, I stare up at her with a bad feeling in my gut.

“Yeah…why?”

“When were you gonna tell me?” she replies. “Your sister just mentioned it in a text.”

I shrug. “Why would I tell you? It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does,” she replies. “Anna said you always have your friends over for your birthday.”

My only response is a disgruntled sigh.

It’s true; I always do have my friends over for my birthday, but that’s not always a good thing. The party is nothing more than a binge of sex, alcohol, and debauchery. It just doesn’t interest me anymore.

If I could have anything for my birthday, it would just be a typical day at home with my wife. Or perhaps her admitting to me that she actually gives a fuck about me. I’d like that too.

“So, let’s throw a party,” she says with excitement.

Now that she’s finally able to argue with me without setting off a fit of coughs, she takes advantage of it and argues with me ten times as much. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy it.

“No,” I grunt as I turn my attention back to pulling the weeds that have sprouted along the fence line.

“Come on, you miserable ogre. I need a party. I’m so bored.”

“I’ll keep you busy,” I reply as I glance up at her with a wicked grin.

She rolls her eyes. “We’re already screwing two times a day, Killian. My poor lady bits can’t take anymore.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Ben fumble with the tool in his hand before quickly scurrying over to the barn and out of earshot of our conversation. I let out a small chuckle.

Then I turn back toward Sylvie. “Wait… I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, my dear husband. You’re not hurting me. Besides,” she adds with a shrug. “I like a little pain.”

My eyebrows nearly shoot to my hairline. Oh, we’re coming back to that .

“How about for my birthday, we see just how much pain you like?” I ask.

“No,” she barks, stomping her foot on the ground. “We can’t just sit around this house alone every single day, Killian. We need human interaction. We need to celebrate. We need to have fun . You remember what that is, don’t you?”

Sitting back on my haunches, I let out a sigh of defeat. I know at this moment that I’m not winning this argument. It’s clear. When my wife puts her mind to something, there is no talking her out of it.

“Fine,” I say with a relenting sigh. “One party. Just a few people. Nothing wild.”

“Thank you,” she replies with an elated bounce in her feet. Then she holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

I don’t even argue. I just pull it out of my back pocket and hand it over. “Don’t go looking at my search history now.”

She screws up her face in disgust. Then, without a word, I watch her type out a message.

“Who are you texting?” I ask, feeling a sense of hesitation and paranoia.

“The group chat,” she says, showing me my phone screen.

“How the hell did you find that?” I reply in shock.

“It’s not that hard, Killian. You don’t really text that many people.”

My phone starts vibrating with responses immediately. She smiles down at the screen. “They’re in.”

As she passes back my phone, a sense of dread rises up inside me. I’m always happy to see my friends, but I also know what comes with that. I’ve always been the single guy at our parties, but now I have someone else to protect. Because if any of those men think they can lay a hand on my wife, this weekend won’t end well.

***

“Barclay!” Liam greets me in his usual bellowing excitement as he jogs up the drive from his car and throws his arms around me for a hug. “How the hell have you been?”

I force a pleasant expression and nod. “I’ve been good.”

“Now that you’re married, you never want to party anymore, is that it?” he asks with a laugh, slapping me on the arm.

“I guess you could say that,” I reply with a wince.

“Where is that stunning wife of yours?”

My teeth grind as I stare at him, gauging his interest in Sylvie. At that very moment, I hear her light footsteps as she comes down the stairs and meets us at the door.

“There she is!” Liam shouts when he sees her.

I turn around and watch him approach her with enthusiasm, pulling her into a hug. Her eyes find mine, and she widens them briefly as if she’s scolding me. She told me multiple times to be on my best behavior this weekend; I know deep down she doesn’t mean to not drink too much or to use my manners. She means to avoid acting like some possessive caveman who snaps off anyone’s head for the smallest thing.

I can make no promises.

McNeil and I go into the parlor for a drink while Sylvie goes to the kitchen to talk with the staff. I catch a glimpse of her as she walks away. She turns back to me for a split second, and our eyes meet. The subtle warmth in her gaze is fooling me. It’s telling me she’s happy here and that we make a good couple. Because right now, she feels like my wife.

“So,” Liam adds as we grab a drink from the bar. “I know I apologized last time, but I just feel the need to do it again.”

I shake my head. “Liam, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. I pissed you off last time I was here, and it was wrong of me.”

“I gave you the green light,” I reply, but he puts up a hand to stop me.

“You clearly love your wife very much, Killian.”

Forcing myself to swallow and remain stoic, I let out a heavy breath through my nose. Liam’s words send a shot of regret to my chest. This marriage isn’t even real, but he’s right. I do love her.

Instead of arguing with him, I simply say, “You’re right. I do.”

Then, his face pulls into a grin. “I’m happy for you.”

That guilt returns, stinging a little bit more.

An hour later, the rest of the crew starts piling in, and the drinking starts as it normally does.

Greg, Nick, and their ladies congregate on the couches in the parlor, and soon the room is filled with laughter. I stay off to the side, hanging by the bar with a drink in my hand as I watch the rest of them go on and on.

“You’ve been sipping that drink for a long time,” Sylvie whispers after she sidles up next to me.

I glance down at my half-empty glass of whisky. “Taking it easy tonight,” I reply.

Her eyebrows shoot upward, and I watch as she bites her lip as if she’s fighting the urge to respond with something sarcastic and quippy. Instead, she takes the glass from my hand and shoots back the drink in one quick gulp.

She coughs and sputters after it goes down, making me laugh. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“You might be taking it easy,” she replies through a strained voice. “But I’m getting drunk.”

I let out a low growl. “Easy, mo ghràidh.”

“Oh, relax, you big dumb oaf. What could possibly go wrong? I’ve got you to protect me.”

I watch as she pours herself another shot, but as she moves to shoot it again, I grab her arm to stop her. “Keep your wits about you, wife.”

She rolls her eyes before gulping down the next shot. “Relax, Killian.”

Then, I pin her against the bar and put my mouth down by her ear. She’s so much smaller than me I have to practically bend over to reach her. “I’m not a monster, you know. If you get too drunk, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out later, and I plan to. So, I’ll say it again…” I take the shot glass from her hand and set it on the bar. “Keep your wits about you.”

I watch as she gulps nervously before meeting my eyes. Then, to my surprise, she grabs me by the back of the neck and drags me down for a kiss.

The conversation behind us dies as they notice us practically making out by the bar. Then, of course, there is a round of whoops and whistles.

“The party is starting early!” someone shouts with excitement.

Everyone erupts with laughter as I pull away from Sylvie’s kiss. She’s beaming up at me as I stand upright and turn toward our friends with a smug grin.

That’s when I catch sight of the couple in the doorway, and my smile instantly fades. Standing there by the entryway are Angus and Claire. He’s wearing a wide expression of excitement, but she’s simply scowling at me and my wife.

That’s when Sylvie tightens her grip on my arm as if I’m being claimed. And I’m not going to lie, I sort of love it.