The Marine (Black Hawke Security #3)

CHAPTER FIVE

AIDAN

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“T hese are fine.” I say, running my hands down the side of the pants.

We’ve been in here for an hour and I’m not sure who’s enjoying themselves more, the tailor who likes my ass or Briar who keeps trying to hide her smile at my discomfort.

“Let me just check the inside leg once more,” he says, crouching.

I lift my brows and glance over at her.

Briar covers her mouth with her hand. She’s sitting cross-legged and resting her elbow on her knee.

Help, I mouth, and she chuckles silently.

My heart leaps at seeing her so happy. It’s at my expense, but I don’t care. Honestly, the guy could give me a blowjob if it would make this woman smile.

I’m joking.

If he doesn’t keep his hands in the right place, I’m going to point my fucking gun in the middle of his forehead.

No , she mouths back, shaking her head.

Then she lifts her phone and takes some photos.

“Delete those.” I growl playfully.

“Hell no, I’m sending them to Ryder.” Briar giggles.

“Great. They’ll end up on his damn Instagram.” I roll my eyes. “Or the dartboard in the lunchroom.”

“You have a dartboard?” she asks.

“Yes. Why? Do you want to put my photo up and throw darts at it?”

She shrugs. “Who says I haven’t already?”

I smile again as I glance down, keeping my eye on Sir Hands-A-Lot.

I don’t trust Ryder—one of my best friends— with photos of a man standing between my legs. Fuck, he couldn’t trust me with an arsenal like that, either. But if this makes Briar happy and connects us, then I’ll damn well strip for her.

After this dude leaves.

“I’m joking,” Briar says, and I smile over at her.

“That you sent it or that you’ve used my photo on a dartboard?”

I want to keep this playfulness going. I like teasing her. She’s ten years older and a thousand times more beautiful. Her face has matured, her hair is longer, and there is a depth in her eyes that speaks of the kindness and compassion I know she has inside her.

Along with pain and suffering.

The tailor stands and runs his hand over my glutes, smoothing the fabric, and I’m done.

“Okay. This is fine.” I step away and wave at Briar. “My wife has an appointment, so we need to get going.”

Her eyes widen.

“Of course. I have all I need,” he says, winding up his tape.

I bet you have, you creep.

“Great—”

“I have plenty of time, husband, ” Briar says deadpan. “Why not try the other pair on?”

Brat.

I feel my cock hardening as she smiles at me naughtily, and the thought of her being my wife and sleeping in my bed crashes through me. Her lying naked on our sheets, her legs spread, waiting for my mouth.

My tongue.

The tailor glances at me in question.

“No,” I say firmly, ripping the jacket off my broad shoulders, tossing it at him.

“Right. I’ll get these changes underway,” he says and disappears.

Before I can stop myself, I close the space between us and lift my wife to her feet. I see the mix of excitement and fear in her eyes as she stands.

“If you were my wife, I’d take you home and fuck you hard for that.” My voice is rough, and Briar draws in a shaky breath. “And I want you to know that not a day goes by that I don’t wish you were.”

And fuck that asshole you called a father for destroying us.

“Aidan.” Briar gasps breathlessly.

I shake my head as my hand slides over her hip. “No. That’s it. That’s all I have ever wanted to say to you.”

I step back and disappear into the changing rooms.

More lies.

I have so much more to say.

For the first time in ten years, hope flickers in my chest. Briar is back in my life and we’re being playful together.

What if she could forgive me?

What if there is a way forward?

The question is, can I forgive myself?

Or is the question, can I let her go a second time?

When I step out of the changing room, they give me a ticket and tell me the suit will be ready for collection three days before the wedding.

“Let me take that. I’m picking up Ryder’s and Josh’s suits, so I can do them all at the same time.” Briar says, and I hand her the ticket.

When we step out of the store, my hand goes to the small of her back and she stiffens.

“Please don’t do that,” she says quietly as we walk to the vehicle.

My hand drops.

When I open the door for her, Briar turns.

“Listen, Aidan, as painful as it is, it was nice seeing you again. But we both know...” Her voice trails off and I watch her search for the words.

I’m not helping her.

“What do we know, Briar?”

“That what we had was destroyed when...”

Fuck.

I don’t want to hear those words on her lips. Not again. Not one single more time.

“When I killed your father?” I ground out so that she doesn’t have to.

She nods and climbs into the car.

The flicker of hope bursts into flames and burns the inside of my stupid fucking heart.