Devil
Holding his preferred expensive Cuban cigar clenched between his shiny, white incisors, Devil Delancy glared through the picturesque French window located at the front of his sprawling home. The sheer window treatment offered him an unobstructed view of the occupants residing inside the dwelling, and needless to say, he was less than happy with what he was seeing.
Inhaling deeply, he tried to allow the aromatic smoke to soothe his frayed nerves while he watched, undetected and hidden by the shrubbery dotting the landscape. His jaw clenched as he watched his love, his Molly, heft yet another china plate toward her face, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied the etched pattern adorning the rim with discerning, albeit tired, eyes.
Christ on a cracker, he thought to himself, this wedding madness was going to be the death of them both… and it wasn’t even their ceremony she was planning! Hell, come to think of it, he didn’t recall her ever working this hard on their actual nuptials. How was that for irony?
Nope, he’d been happily married for almost two mostly glorious years to the amazing woman currently kneeling on the floor next to a stack of china inside the home in front of him. Their own wedding woes should have been nothing but dim memories, but noooooo…. Somehow, he and Molly (oh, hell, let’s be real… it was mostly Molly) were now playing wedding planners and party hosts to the commitment ceremony of two of their best friends - his own dependable executive assistant, Armando Savage, and his partner, Devil’s Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions, Nick Santino.
How, you ask, did this happen? Go ahead, ASK!
Because the answer was almost painfully simple.
His own blushing bride had a death wish. That’s right! Molly had willingly allowed herself to be submerged in this storm of matrimonial madness that had descended from the heavens. His own completely crazy, but inarguably beautiful wife had volunteered to organize and host the freaking festivities. And she’d signed up for this duty while she’d been NINE months pregnant, knowing full well that he’d never be able to deny her anything that close to delivering their child. Never mind the fact that Devil had known that she would be a brand new mother, running on infinitesimal amounts of sleep and only functional thanks to copious doses of caffeine. None of that had mattered a single iota. On the contrary, Molly had forged ahead, determined to give her gay bestie the perfect day despite being in the middle of giving birth to a brand spanking new tiny human.
Yeah, it was entirely possible that his wife had gone certifiably insane. In fact, he would have been willing to place a cash bet on it. He’d have been thrilled to have blamed her insanity on pregnancy hormones, but even after his own little Devlynn had made her appearance a mere eight weeks ago, Molly had continued to insist on spearheading Operation: Get the Guys Hitched.
And when was this anticipated ceremony set to commence, you ask?
VALENTINE’S DAY!
That’s right. Their good friends, Gay and Gayer, had chosen the most stereotypical holiday of all time to tether the ol’ ball to the chain.
Idiots.
Devil sighed heavily and shook his head as he watched Molly yawn widely and set aside the china plate while she made some kind of note in her ever-present oversized wedding bible. Oh, how he wanted to burn that book. He’d thought his wedding had been a challenge, but he was quickly realizing that his own special day had been a walk in the park compared to Mannie and Nick’s Big V-Day Wedding Extravaganza. And, yeah, Big Day should appear in capital letters here because Molly had insisted to him time and again that nothing less than their very best would do. (He’d learned months ago that it was really just better - and safer, too! - for him to turn over his credit card, close his eyes, and let the chips fall where they may. He was nothing if not a self-preservationist.)
Bitterly, he recognized that it was now official. His ass was currently (and for the foreseeable future) residing in what could only be called a holiday hell of the Cupid variety (and as a special side note - if he ever got his shot, that arrow that the little imp carried around with him was going directly up that diapered fool’s ass). As God as his witness, he was gonna dance across that sappy cherub freak’s fuckin’ coffin if something didn’t give with all the wedding nonsense soon. St. Valentine could kiss his hairy ass… Devil wanted his wife back, dammit. Hell, he was a decent enough guy, wasn’t he? He didn’t mind loaning Molly out for her wacky friend’s wedding adventure, but all this craziness had gotten so far out of hand that it could be spotted from the space station.
Lifting his hand, Devil rubbed his jaw, the short hairs of his five o’clock shadow abrading his palm as he stared at his weary wife with a resigned eye. Surrounded by china plates and paper saucers full of half-eaten wedding cake samples, she was still a vision of loveliness that made his heart melt into mush and his dick harden to the point of painfulness. She was a vision, and he was honest enough with himself to be able to admit that he was a lucky son of a bitch to have convinced her to be his. The truth was that his Molly was the light that shined at the end of his very long tunnel, beckoning him toward her. Well, at least she would beckon if she could find time to devote a little of her attention toward him. Lately, his current enemies were making that a little difficult for her. Moving his gaze to the interlopers that sat on either side of his wife, he tried not to feel envious of the trio of cockblockers. He tried, but he knew it was an effort doomed to fail.
Because right now, they had some things he desperately wanted.
Like Molly’s time. Her attention. Her fucking smile.
They had it, and he wanted it.
NOW!
Lately, however, Molly’s best friends, Mannie, Vivian, and Samantha, had seen more of his wife than he had, monopolizing every spare moment she wasn’t with their daughter. Yep, every second Mols wasn’t with Devlynn, one of her cohorts was devouring her attention regarding the upcoming commitment ceremony like a prisoner eating his last meal on death row.
If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t accustomed to being an afterthought in his own house. Between being a new mother and wedding planner extraordinaire, Molly’d had next to no time or energy for him. He couldn’t lie; that smarted. She’d become so obsessed with giving Armando the wedding of his dreams that she’d forgotten those vows they’d made to put each other first in all things. Hell, just this morning, he’d caught himself feeling jealous of his own precious daughter while he’d watched her hungrily nurse at her momma’s ample breasts. His own kid! He wasn’t proud of it, but he was self-aware enough to admit that they had some problems.
And three of those dastardly problems were sitting inside the house with his woman.
Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he reminded himself that all marriages had their share of challenges. According to his Nana, for every hill life offered, there would be a valley to balance it out or some sentimental crap like that. But damn, couldn’t he just get to the top of the mountain and stay there with Molly admiring the view for a few uninterrupted minutes?
Nobody could blame him for how he felt, could they? Of course not, he thought decisively, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he continued to eye his wife. It wasn’t as though he was completely selfish. He’d been patient with her, dammit. He’d given her time following the birth of their perfect child to heal and rest – at least he’d tried. Was it his fault if Molly was convinced that he and their child couldn’t survive without her constant supervision? He wasn’t allowed to breathe near the baby unless her watchful eye was narrowed upon him.
Not to mention, the six-week anniversary of their tiny little miracle’s birth had come and gone over two weeks ago with very little fanfare. Both mother and daughter had visited their respective physicians and been pronounced hale and whole. It should have been cause for much celebration in Delancy Land.
Suffice it to say, nary a shout for joy was heard.
He hadn’t said a single negative word about it, but try as he might (and despite her obstetrician pronouncing her recovered), he STILL hadn’t managed to coax his way back between his wife’s gorgeous thighs and the marriage bed remained decidedly chilly. Despite that, Devil had tried his best to be the sensitive husband Molly needed. Instead of tears and a temper tantrum, he’d been entirely supportive, offering her cuddles and snuggles galore. No, instead of whining about their lack of a love life, he’d done the manly thing and resorted to extra long showers with only his hand, his imagination, and his memories of better times for company. Okay, if he was completely honest, maybe he’d shed a few tears in that lonely shower stall.
Not that he blamed his wife….not exactly, anyway. He was well aware that she was burning the candle at both ends in order to pull off a wedding coup de grace AND earn a nomination for mother of the year. Lately, if it wasn’t all about their daughter, then it was ALL about the commitment ceremony. But, Devil couldn’t help questioning when it could become just a little bit ALL about THEM again.
He’d been hoping that tonight would be the night they’d rediscover each other. He’d made overnight arrangements for their kid despite Molly’s argument that she didn’t need any time alone. Currently, their little Devyl was happily ensconced at her grandparents’ house, being spoiled like the little princess she was. Looking down at the supplies in his hand, he gave himself a little mental pat on the back for being prepared. Glancing down at the bouquet of roses he held in his left hand and the bottle of Merlot he held in his right, he was fairly confident that he had the tools required to romance his wife. Now, all he had to do was get rid of the unwelcome guests taking up residence in his home.
It was definitely time to evict the squatters, he decided as he squared his shoulders and strode with a purposeful step toward his ornate front door. Letting himself in quickly, he could tell by the tittering voices that the wedding planning was still in full swing in the living room.
Of course, he wasn’t going to allow that to slow him down.
He was Devil Delancy, damn it! He’d been responsible for orchestrating some of the most lucrative business deals in Atlanta history. Surely to God he could convince this bunch of yahoos to get the hell out of his house.
Marching into the living room, he directed a smile toward his wife as he announced, “Honey, I’m home!”
She (and her minions), however, barely spared him a distracted glance as they continued to pass a dark bottle from person to person.
“Mmmmm,” Sami hummed her approval as she savored the mouthful of decadent champagne happily, completely ignoring Devil’s entrance per her usual. “Molly is right, Mannie. Cristal is really the only way to go for the wedding toast. At least for the head table. We can always use the Anderson Valley Roederer for the rest of the guests. The wedding party, though…we definitely need the good stuff.”
“I come bearing gifts, sweetheart,” Devil tried again, brandishing his roses and sliding them in front of Molly’s nose.
Batting the roses out of the way, Molly ignored her husband and instead concentrated on the prospective groom. Arching one eyebrow while her pen was held poised over her wedding planner guide, she stared at Armando while she awaited his decision. “The Anderson fits our budget, too, Mannie,” she added hopefully.
“Perfecto!” Armando declared enthusiastically. “The premium champagne for us and swill for the less fortunate! As Marie Antoinette would say, ‘Let them eat cake’,” he added with a playful wink.
Devil watched impatiently as Molly choked back laughter while she nodded and made another note in her bible. Dropping the wine he held to the mahogany end table next to the sofa with a loud thunk, he wondered if he was invisible. Clearing his throat, he tried again, saying the one thing guaranteed to capture his wife’s attention. “I would have been here earlier, but I wanted to stop by and check on the baby before I came home.”
Molly froze, lifting her eyes to meet Devil’s. “And? Is she okay? Did they remember to thicken her formula with cereal for her last bottle? Did you remind them that she won’t sleep as well if she doesn’t eat at least three quarters of her last feeding?” she asked in quick succession, her hand already reaching for her cell phone in the center of the coffee table. “Never mind, I’ll just call Momma and…”
“Molly, drop the phone and come down off the ceiling,” Devil ordered gently, bending to grab her iPhone from the table before her hand could reach it. “Seriously, babe, our girl is just fine. I don’t know if you remember, but your mom and dad already raised a couple of rather spectacular kids themselves,” he teased.
“Very cute, Devil. Now, gimmee back my phone and let me check on our daughter,” she whined, lifting her chin to blink up at him as she expectantly held out her hand.
He sighed as he caught and held her gorgeous green-eyed gaze. Damn, he was done for. He was pretty certain that even after just under two years of marriage that the mere sight of this beautiful woman could make him weak in the knees. And when she looked at him with those big Bambi eyes of hers and blinked slowly, he was completely helpless, incapable of denying her anything. If she asked for the moon, he’d find a way to rope that fucker and pull it down for her.
It had been like that forever. From the moment she had walked into his office, her newly-minted but almost entirely useless art history degree in her excited little hands, he had known that his life would never be the same again. Sure, they had almost grown up together; her brother was his best and oldest friend, after all. But grown-up Molly trumped pig-tailed Molly in spades. Being the savvy businessman that he was, he had known how to get what he wanted...and hiring her as his assistant was a pure stroke of genius on his part. Using his grandmother’s supposed heart disease to con her into posing as his fiancé had been the exact springboard their relationship had needed. A whirlwind engagement that almost collapsed due to a past indiscretion with a malicious ex-one-night-stand had indeed led to their fairytale wedding...finally. Not only had Molly converted him from a love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of bachelor to a faithfully devoted married man, but she had also given him their incredibly loud, albeit beautiful, daughter, who was thankfully sound asleep in her grandparents’ house.
“Devil!” Molly growled, shaking her open palm at him irritably. “Gimmee!!” she demanded.
Rolling his eyes, Devil dropped the flat phone in her hand. “Fine, but I just talked to your mother fifteen minutes ago and she assured me that our daughter had eaten her fill and drifted off about an hour ago. If you wake that sleeping baby with your phone call, you will endure your mother’s wrath without my help. I already got yelled at once this evening for almost disturbing our daughter’s sleep.”
Molly’s lips twitched from side to side as she deliberated his warning. “Fine,” she finally mumbled under her breath. “I’ll just text Momma later and check in with her.”
“Wonderful, mi amigas. Does this mean we can chit chat about my honeymoon plans?” Mannie asked excitedly, his dark eyes dancing with merriment as he clapped his hands together. “I’m thinking white sandy beaches and teeny tiny speedos for my little Nico! I can’t wait to cha-cha-cha, with my hot hunk of love on a nice, deserted cove with the warm water lapping at our legs while we….”
“Arghhh,” Devil groaned with a shudder, the mere thought of a mostly naked Nick Santino enough to almost turn him off all thoughts of sex.
Almost.
“Savage, I will hurt you if you go any further with that sentence,” Devil growled, pointing a threatening finger at Armando. “Have you already forgotten our conversation about boundaries?” Truthfully, Devil didn’t know if he was more irritated by the reference to Armando’s sex life or the reminder that his present sex life was non-existent.
“Those boundaries were only for the office, Papi. Here is fair game, yes? We are familia.” Mannie corrected, gesturing around the elegant living room as his espresso-colored eyes twinkled merrily.
“Think again, amigo,” Devil retorted, glaring at Armando.
“Unless you want Devil to commence beatin’ on you like a piñata, I suggest you hush, Mannie,” Vivian warned softly, ever the diplomat as she elbowed her Hispanic friend in the ribs before he could say something else to get him in trouble.
“Devil,” Molly admonished, her jade eyes narrowing in irritation as she looked up at her husband, “You are not being a very good host to our guests.”
“Yeah, Devil,” Samantha sneered, always eager to egg him on, “I’m beginning to feel rather unwelcome in your lovely home. Sometimes, I get the feeling that you just don’t like having us around at all, sugar,” the beautiful blonde model continued to goad, crossing one leg over the other as she reclined in the Queen Anne chair in the corner smiling knowingly at him.
“Oh, was I being too subtle for you, She-beast?” Devil replied silkily. “Allow me to remedy that situation and be completely crystal clear. Get. Out. All of you.”
“Devil!” Molly gasped, bolting to her feet. “Forty years old or not, Nana would blister your backside still if she had heard that! You are being unforgivably rude. Be nice and apologize to our guests,” she demanded, propping one hand on her hip as she gestured at the trio of grinning faces surrounding them with the other.
Samantha’s lips curled in amusement as she watched Molly berate her husband. Life was never better than when she had a front row seat to watching Devil get his ass handed to him… especially by his wife. “Oh, Molly, honey, I don’t think your husband knows any other way to be. Bein’ a horse’s hind end just comes so naturally to him,” she remarked sweetly.
“Only with you, Samantha. Only with you,” Devil drawled, wondering not for the first time how the caustic model and his Molly could be such good friends. Seriously, the vivacious blonde bombshell needed to find a new man to sink her teeth into…or better yet, he needed to find her ex-photographer fiancé and find a way to get them back together again. Then, the harpy would be somebody else’s headache. Now, Vivian, he could understand. Hell, he enjoyed the quiet brunette’s company. Both gentle and intelligent, Viv had just made partner at her law firm, and he had been seriously debating bringing Delancy Industries business to her. He knew his corporate secrets wouldn’t be safer anywhere else and there were definite benefits to keeping his business within the family.
“Can’t you two ever get along?” Molly huffed, looking from her husband to her blonde bestie.
“Nope,” they both replied in unison, both equally unapologetic and secure in the friendly rivalry they’d maintained for years.
“At least they’re honest,” Armando chuckled, winking at Molly. “I think su hombre wants a little face time with you, chica. We should get going anyway. If Devil has made it home, then my Nick can’t be far behind. He and I still need to come to some kind of compromise over our wedding tuxes.”
“He’s still not going for the idea of a crushed red velvet suit coat, huh?” Vivian asked, standing from the couch and smoothing the wrinkles from her stylish grey skirt.
“No,” Mannie pouted, sighing heavily as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. “He still insists we go with classic black Armani. Really, he’s such a conformist. It’s disgustingly boring,” he declared with a grimace as he straightened his teal suit jacket.
“Yeah, he’s a real bastard,” Devil agreed quickly, shooing his executive assistant toward the door. “I’d go home and fight it out with him.”
“Devil!” Molly hissed through her teeth, blowing at a strand of auburn hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face. Pushing up the sleeves of her grey Emory University sweatshirt, she heaved out a frustrated breath before refocusing her attention on the groom. “Mannie, don’t let Devil chase you off. We could still work on some details to the ceremony if you want.”
“No, Devil is right,” Vivian interceded quickly before Armando could change his mind or Samantha could poke the bear that was Devil again. She could tell by the slightly homicidal glint in the older man’s eye that he was nearing the end of his rope with their wedding mania. “It’s getting awfully late, and I have an early court appointment tomorrow.”
Rising, Samantha’s chin lifted regally as she straightened the seams of her red silk dress. “You’re very lucky that Viv is my ride tonight,” she informed Devil with a toothy smile. “Otherwise, I’d make sure you were stuck entertaining me all night, Dev.”
“I’ll be certain to get on my knees tonight and give thanks to the Almighty for His small mercies,” Devil replied evenly with a slight inclination of his head, silently giving Vivian credit for being able to successfully manage this motley crew of misfits.
“Damn it, Devil,” Molly began to complain, offering her husband a look that promised a reprisal of a violent variety would be in his near future. “Do you have any idea how much work we still have to do?”
“Don’t worry about it, darlin’,” Samantha soothed, patting Molly’s arm as she passed her on her way to the door, “We all know that bein’ an asshole will be your husband’s legacy to mankind. Don’t let it stress you out.”
“And on that note, we’ll all be biddin’ y’all a goodnight,” Vivian announced firmly, snagging Mannie’s arm with one hand while she gave Samantha a helpful nudge toward the front door with the other.
Devil watched the terrible trio depart with barely restrained excitement. He was so close to having his wife’s devoted attention that he could almost taste it. As Molly closed the front door behind them, he smiled widely, eager to get their evening together underway. Now maybe, he and his shapely spouse could finally get reacquainted with each other.