Francesca wiped the sweat and soil from her forehead, turning around and walking to the shed to retrieve a bag of fertilizer. She stopped and rubbed her forehead, wincing. The bruise there was shallow but nasty and green. I stepped toward the shed, reaching behind her back and taking the heavy bag from her.
“Why are you so stubborn?” I accused as I carried it toward her vegetable garden. She followed me in her little boots and little everything, really. She was so pocket-sized, I often rehashed the night I was inside her, relishing how sweet and tight she’d felt. Not because of her virginity, but simply because she was her tiny self.
“Why are you always so…you?” She followed me, a bounce to her step. I stopped in front of the vegetables, realizing for the very first time how spectacular she’d made this garden. She grew actual things. Tomatoes and radishes and peppermint and basil. Flowers spilled from fresh pots, and there were rows upon rows of flowerbeds framing her little garden. It wasn’t my style. Too busy and colorful, a mishmash of too many species, sights, and scents. But it was the one thing about this place that truly made her happy other than Ms. Sterling.
“Who else would I be?” I answered, setting the bag next to her plants, careful not to squash them. I stood up straight and wiped my hands.
“Someone else,” she teased.
“Like who? Angelo?” Only an idiot would utter his name aloud at a time like this. But I made it perfectly clear that I could be a real jackass where my wife was concerned.
“I actually quite like you being you,” she said, hitching one shoulder up. I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling abnormally raw.
“You need to slow down.”
“I am. I took it easy today. Did my homework and only came out here a half hour ago. I’m getting ready to harvest the first round of veggies and send them off to the school down the road. It’s all organic.” She turned to face me for the first time, and my heart squeezed at the sight of her black eye and cut lip. I chucked her under the chin.
“That’s not slowing down. That’s speeding up. Don’t make me do something crazy.”
“Like what?”
“Like abduct you.”
She chuckled, looking down at her legs, her cheeks flushing. “You treat me like a kid.”
“Please. If I did to kids what I want to do to you, I’d spend the rest of my life in a secluded cellar, and for damn good reason.”
She crouched down, fingering the flowerbeds for dead leaves she collected, then threw away. I stuffed my fists into the pockets of my dress pants, watching her back. Nemesis had Dimples of Venus on her lower back, and the need to sink my thumbs into them as I ate her out from behind smashed into me. I cleared my throat.
“Pack a bag and some snacks. We’re leaving.”
“Huh?” She still gardened, not even bothering to look up.
“We’re going to my cabin on Lake Michigan tomorrow for the weekend. Getting some rest is clearly not on your agenda, so I’m making it.”
She twisted her head to watch me, squinting at the sun and using one of her hands as a visor from it. “It’s no trouble. I’m not hurt, Wolfe.”
“You look like you’ve been beaten up, and people are especially good at speculating. I need to get you out of town.” It was only partly true. Having my new wife parade her banged-up face in public was less than ideal, sure. But I didn’t want any company other than her, either. Sterling was always sniffing around us, and Smithy was a general pain in the ass. In addition, Bishop wasn’t wrong. I did not, in fact, have any friends. Distancing myself from my enemies for a couple days wasn’t the worst idea I’d had. I needed a breather, and, quite frankly, Nem was the only person I could somehow tolerate right now.
“I have a lot of homework,” she said.
“Take it with you.”
“I’d hate to leave Ms. Sterling alone.”
“She’ll have security stay with her. We’re leaving alone.”
“That’s against protocol.”
“Fuck protocol.”
There was silence. She was chewing her lip, which meant she was trying to come up with another obstacle.
“You can drive a portion of the way to the cabin,” I offered, sweetening her deal. She perked just as I knew she would. Her experience with Bandini’s assholes did not deter her from learning. It was part of the reason why I couldn’t hate her. Not even if I tried. She was driven, and the best part was that she didn’t even know it about herself.
“Really?” Her eyes shimmered with excitement. Clear blue like the summer sky. “Even after what happened?”
“Especially after what happened. You aced it. How’s your forehead?”
“It looks worse than it feels.”