Even still, I dreamt of his ring-covered fingers on my body, waking up in a pheromone-soaked sweat that I hurried to wash off before Oona could come in to do her usual cleaning of my tower bedroom in the morning.
But Edison’s hands unfortunately weren’t the only ones dancing through my dreams.
“Rhodes means well. He’s just a bit of a stubborn ass at times,” Edison continued, oblivious to the heated turn of my thoughts. “Believe me, he’s said his fair share of dumb shit to me as well and I’ve always found it in me to forgive him.”
The man’s expression softened as he spoke about the other alpha, the seemingly permanent crease in between his brows easing.
Turning to him fully, I drank in his expression as the same tugging sense of something filled my chest.
Sometimes, the way Edison spoke of Rhodes, it was almost as if they loved one another in a way that was more than brotherly.
Everyone I brought it up to insisted they were best friends and had been inseparable since they were children. Even the old-as-the-Earth omega that made a trek to the mansion every day to teach me about the birds and the bees of the ABO dynamics insisted on it.
“Keane leaders don’t have a pack. All of their progeny must be their own that bear the signature golden eyes,” the old woman had announced in a shaking voice as she clicked through the ancient, yellowed slides of a projector that was probably used to record silent films a hundred years ago.
When I’d asked her why I’d just received a cryptic “it is the way,” from the woman before she turned her attention to masturbatory practices for the omega sex.
Definitely not something I wanted to hear from a woman who looked like she’d seen both World Wars.
It all seemed stuffy and traditional. Besides, it had been a while since I’d taken a biology class but I was pretty sure that, even with only Edison’s genetics, there was a pretty big chance that any child we had wouldn’t have gold eyes.
But outside of a few glances heavy with meaning and the way they spoke about each other, Edison and Rhodes seemed to be the best friends they presented to the rest of the world.
“Perrie?” Edison’s voice cut through my thoughts and I blinked, meeting the golden eyes that seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the car. The same golden eyes that any future children we had were supposed to also have. No pressure on me and my own genetics.
“Sorry,” I hurried to give myself a mental shake. Now was not the time to be giving into a spiraling imagination of the two alpha men kissing and how it made my insides warm, nor was it the time to try and remember how Punnett squares worked. “What were you saying?”
“That we’re here.” Edison nodded to his door where, outside, Rhodes and the rest of the security team were waiting for us under the fancy red awning of the hotel where the dinner was being held. “Are you ready?”
He held a hand out to me, the Keane signet ring he always wore on his thumb flashing in the dim light as the etched wings of a bird flashed on the face of it. It was a white-tailed Eagle I’d learned from the history lessons Oona had given me in my spare time.
“No,” I admitted, sliding my fingers into his and finding them to be pleasantly warm. “But do I have a choice?”
“You always have a choice, Perrie.” Edison lifted my hand and brushed a kiss over my knuckles, sending a lightning bolt of sensation down my arm.
He wasn’t wrong.
Edison had given me the choice to marry him on that day and I’d agreed. With that choice came a surprising amount of freedom—like my college classes that started next week. Certainly more freedom than Amante and Pack Ricci had ever offered me.
But it also meant that I would need to do a job tonight.
I wasn’t familiar with every aspect of the life of a mobster’s wife, but I would have to fake it till I made it tonight or risk embarrassing both of us in front of his family.
Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, I met Edison’s eyes again with what I hoped was more confidence than before. “Let’s do this.”
The corner of the man’s mouth pulled up into a half-grin. “Should we do a football huddle before we exit the car?”
My eye roll was automatic. “Just open the door, Edison.”
His grin widened. “I do love it when my pet bares her fangs. Keep them out, Peregrine, you’ll need them tonight.”
Before I could ask him exactly what he meant, he was opening the car door and stepping out onto the fancy carpet that sat at the entrance of the hotel.
A light rain had started while we were sitting in the car and someone—Rhodes I realized as I let Edison help me step out—was holding a dark umbrella over our heads, his brown leather jacket getting wet in the process as droplets clung to his brown hair.
“Last time I checked,” Edison said, pushing the umbrella so that it was further over his friend to keep him dry. “You are the head of my security, not an umbrella holder.”
Another security officer, one who was unfamiliar to me, hurried to open the umbrella he was carrying and hold it over all three of us.
“It’s not going to hurt my pride to hold an umbrella for you, Mr. Keane.” Rhodes’ voice was all sorts of formal as he spoke to Edison, but his dark eyes sparkled with a barely hidden laughter that cooled as soon as they shifted over to me.
“Best get her inside before it really starts coming down, that dress looks like it’s liable to melt if it gets wet.”
It looked like he was still mad that I made him ride in a different car. Rhodes McCreary, for all of his scary-ass looks and stone-faced expressions, was actually pretty sensitive.
The man in question turned and hurried inside, probably to clear the hall the same way a secret service agent would for the president of a small country.
And judging by the way people seemed to part like the Red Sea for Edison, in this world, he was the president.
Or, I guess the title of king would suit the man more. Presidents were elected. Kings were born.
People who I guessed were a part of the extended branch families that made up the Keane clan milled around the elegant lobby in their best finery. It almost felt as if tonight was our wedding rather than the one that was planned to take place at the estate tomorrow.
“Edison!” one of the men greeted us as we passed, stepping into our path and stopping us. He was an older man with, and I kid you not, a ridiculously villainous mustache that twisted up at the ends.
Oona had shown me pictures of all of the branch families, but I definitely would have remembered a mustache like the one this man had.
It took everything in me not to laugh as he attempted to exchange greetings with Edison. My fingers gripped the inside of Edison’s elbow tightly as I tried to hold it together because laughing at one of the branch family members was probably not a good look for the future wife of the clan’s leader.
