My phone buzzes in my pocket for the third consecutive time, and I decide I’ve delayed this conversation enough. Swiping to accept the call, I don’t sugarcoat my greeting. “Why are you calling me?”
“Why? Because you haven’t answered me for a damn month, that’s why.”
“That’s because I have nothing to say to you.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve got things to discuss with you. Don’t get smart with me, boy.”
“I’m not a boy. I’m a man. And after this phone call ends, I will not be speaking to you again unless you learn from your mistakes and change.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“How dare you speak to my wife behind my back, attempting to scare her away.”
“I think I heard you wrong. Yourwhat?” he shouts through the other end of the line so loudly it echoes off the cinderblock walls of the hallway. Huh, I guess my mom didn’t share our good news with him. I’m happy to hear that.
“You heard me just fine. I saidmy wife. You will never speak to her again without me there, do you hear me? You won’t look her way unless I give you permission. Matter of fact, don’t even think about my wife. From this day forward, for now and forever, Scarlett, Gemma, and Gunner are my family. If you ever want to consider yourself a part of that, you better figure it the fuck out. Until then, only mom, J, and Walker are invited to our wedding in Paris. I sincerely hope you can pull your head out of your ass before you lose all three of your kids.”
I hang up the phone without waiting for his response. Part of me wishes I were in person for that conversation, but the better part of me knows I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my frustration and grievances with my father. Fuck him for not only talking to Scarlett, but thinking he has a say in anything that goes on in my life. He controlled the game for far too long, and I refuse to let him hold the power any longer.
I’m pulled from my spiraling thoughts and my stomach swoops in anticipation when I hear the clicking of heels coming down the hallway.
“Are you ready for this, Benny Boy?” Scarlett asks when she reaches me. I take my time with my response because I’m honestly at a loss for words. My wife is a fucking bombshell every day of the week, but today, she’s dressed to kill. Her outfit is all black—black leather pencil skirt, black blouse, black strappy heels. But what really steals my breath away are the two pieces of jewelry adorning her left ring finger.
I grab her hands in mine and rub said finger with my thumb. “Ready as I’ll ever be, Red.”
“Aw, you’ve got to liven up a bit, Cap. I’ve been dying to kick your ass when we play this game together.”
Narrowing my eyes at her, I point out, “I thought this was just a fun little social media sketch they were filming. Why do you look so excited?”
When she doesn’t answer, I go to tug on her wrist, but Morgan from the social media team joins us in the hallway and says she’s ready for us.
She leads us down the players’ hallway just in front of the lockerroom where she has two chairs set up for us with a table and a phone on a tripod.
Once we’ve assured her we’re ready to go, she clears her throat before giving us a nod that she’s begun filming.
“Good morning Wolverine fans! I’m here with newlyweds Bennett Wilson and Scarlett Carlisle—” Morgan starts, but Scarlett interrupts her.
“It’s Mrs. Wilson now,” she informs her before taking my hand in hers and sending a sultry wink my way.
Fuck me. I’m not sure how long it will take for my possessiveness to wear off, but I love hearing her correct someone when they call her by her maiden name. It’s not even the fact that she has my last name, hell I’ve considered taking hers a number of times, it’s just the fact that thetwo of us sharing a last name tells the rest of the world that she’smine. Forever.
“My apologies and congratulations,” Morgan says. “I’m joined by Mr. and Mrs. Wilson this morning to play the newlywed game. I’ll be asking them a series of questions in which they’ll each write the answer on their mini white boards before revealing their answers at the same time. Are you two ready?”
“Yep!” Scarlett exclaims, rubbing her hands together in anticipation before grabbing the white board from her lap. She’s got a competitive glint in her eyes that’s sexy as hell.
I’m obsessed with every little thing my wife does.
“Okay, question number one: Who is the better cook?”
I write out Scarlett’s name on my white board and am shocked to see she’s written my name on hers. “Come on, Red, that’s not true. You’re a helluva cook.”
“Thank you, but I can’t work a grill to save my life and you can do it all, so I think that makes you the better all around cook in our household,” she admits.
“Aw, that’s sweet. Ready for question number two?” We both nod in response. “Alright. Who is the better driver?”
I’m not surprised when she and I both agree that I am the better driver. Because I am. Without question. Like, it’s not even close.
“Who is more romantic?”
