My world was finally at peace.
The wicked witch pleaded guilty along with Zara and Deacon. They were serving time and my name had been cleared of all charges brought against me. At least now I could concentrate on my family, college, and music.
My mom re-married and had gone on a cruise around the world with her Greek husband. He seemed like a nice enough guy and he made her happy so I gave her my blessing. They would be gone for a very long time but no one deserved this more than she did. I was genuinely happy for her.
That night, all thoughts of enjoying a wedding night were thwarted by Ashton, when he invited himself into our bed. I had just stepped out of the shower when I found he had taken my place and had no intention of relinquishing it. Besides, we were both too tired to do anything anyway, after spending most of the day at the police station. I went to spend the night at Corbyn’s penthouse, while we figured out where we would stay.
“Do you want me to read you a story,” I asked my son as he snuggled against the chest I had hoped to be lying against tonight.
“No, we’re good,” he said, throwing his small arms around Corbyn. “I’m going to use dad as a pillow.” It always pulled at my heartstrings when he said that. I would never get tired of hearing him say it.
“I’d like a story,” my husband smiled over our son’s dark head. “A naughty one,” he whispered for my ears only.
“Not tonight, Coleman,” I leaned forward and kissed my two favorite guys. “I love you both so much. Good night.”
“Love you too, cookie,” he replied in a sleepy voice.
The next morning, we entered our attorneys’ plush offices and sat in the leather-upholstered visitors’ chairs behind the polished desk while Barry sat across from us. A pile of mail sat on a tray on the left corner of the table and a stack of file folders were neatly arranged on one side, while printed documents were perfectly centered on the desk. Everything was neat and tidy.
“Just need your signatures to seal the deal,” he said, pulling a file that contained the adoption papers out of one of the drawers and sliding them over to us. “You are a few seconds away from becoming an instant dad,” his amused gaze returned to Corbyn.
“Can’t say I’m not excited,” he took the offered pen and scribbled his signature, and passed it on to me. “I’ve always wanted a son.” His face softened into a smile that invaded his eyes as our eyes clashed.
“I couldn’t ask for a better man to be a father to my son,” my throat constricted and tears pricked my eyes. “He’s one lucky boy.”
“I’m the lucky one, cookie,” he said and stroking my hair back before he kissed my forehead.
“It’s official,” Barry announced. “Ashton is now a Coleman, along with you Blue,” he laughed and put the documents aside. “Might I offer my congratulations on your union?”
“By all means,” my husband grinned widely. “I’m the happiest man alive.” He gently took my hand in his, planting a warm, moist kiss in the center of my palm.
“Not happier than me,” I countered, returning his smile.
“On another note,” Barry’s sober expression returned. “Deacon and Zara want to plead insanity, rendering this whole case obsolete. Their attorney wants to meet up this morning and try and reach some sort of compromise.”
“You handle it and keep us in the loop. Is that okay with you, baby?” Corbyn consulted with me as he pulled me to my feet and placed his arm protectively around my waist. “I don’t ever want to see those two ever again.”
“Am I correct in assuming we are not open to any negotiations?” he asked.
“Yes,” we both agreed.
“We’ve got a breakfast appointment with our son. I’m sure you understand that we need to celebrate.”
“Of course,” Barry responded, rising to walk us out. “I’ll be in touch,” he imparted and with a final nod, we left.
When we stepped out of the building, the paparazzi were swarming the area. Our security detail pushed us through a sea of journalists that attempted to thrust their microphones at us.
“Any comment on the murder charges?”
“Were you having an affair with the accused?”
“How true are the wedding rumors?”
We didn’t comment but you know there had to be that one daring journo that pushed all your buttons.
“Why are you roaming the streets, Miss Rivers, when you have proven to be a cold-blooded killer?”
“What did you just say to my wife?!” Corbyn grabbed the reporter by the neck, his long fingers blocking the poor guy’s windpipes.
“It’s true!” His accomplice voiced. “You’re a murderer! You should be in jail.”
“Babe, don’t!” I pleaded. “Let’s just go. Please?!”
Corbyn’s fist smashed into the guy’s face without warning. He repeated the action to another person that dared utter the same question. My husband was not a violent person. This shocked me to my core. Not that I could blame him though, I was itching to do the same thing.
Once we were settled in the limo, it took off at lightning speed, leaving the nosy media behind.
“Are you okay?”
Blue nodded and smiled reassuringly. “I’m okay, honeycomb.” I held his bruised knuckles and kissed them. “I think you’re hanging around with JC too much,” I joked. “You’re picking up his bad habits.”
“I’m sorry cookie,” he sighed and dropped back against the leather seat. “Those people make me so mad sometimes.”
“I know,” I said. “It was kind of hot though,” I winked. “You owe me a wedding night, Coleman.”
“Oh, yeah?” he quirked an eyebrow, his lips returning to mine and lingering in a way that made me feel weak. “Like right now..?”
“No time like the present…keep going…” His warm lips trailed their way down my neck and across my shoulder. “Just like that…” I moaned with pleasure and turned, molding my body against his as I kissed him back passionately, unfastening the belt around his waist and tossing it aside..