Money For Something

21 - Love is a Battlefield

**Ace**

"Oh my god," Willow moaned, and my libido pricked its ears up like a dog. Eating a meal together should not be an exercise in impulse control. And yet I was gripping the edge of the table to stop myself grabbing for her. The soft little sounds she made as she appreciated her tacos had me harder than steel. Which was becoming more or less my constant state when I was around her.

She dabbed at her lips with a napkin and stared at the feast before us with the kind of appreciation that I usually reserved for her underwear, or more specifically, the sight of her in her underwear. Her gasped murmur of, 'So good,' as she scooped up a mouthful of guacamole started a filthy reel of memories of her spread out on our bed playing in my head.

"What's wrong Ace?" she asked taking in my pained expression. "Not hungry?"

Nope, not for anything on the menu at least. On second thought . . .

"Petal I am fucking starving."

She frowned at me and then the table, there was no shortage of food laid out in front of us, before her brow cleared and a peal of laughter rang out as she caught my meaning. I grinned right back at her; proud I could make her laugh even if it was at my expense.

"Calm your jets horndog. We're in public," she laughed.

"I know. Can we leave?" I tried the pout I'd weaponised against women since birth. My mother and sisters were helpless against it. Kim and Lucy not so much. It's effect on Willow remained to be seen. I'd used some of the other tricks in my arsenal to persuade her to stay married to me. Like money.

She glanced around quickly, checked to make sure no one was listening, then leaned forward and said, "My vagina would like me to let you know that while she is very appreciative of the attention, she needs a break of at least a couple of hours."

God that smile, it was rapidly becoming one of my favourite body parts of hers, and that included the aforementioned one in need of a break.

I made a show of checking the time on my phone. "I make it about an hour and a half since we had our shower, so we're good to leave in about thirty?" I said hopefully.

I was rewarded with a snort and a tortilla chip tossed at my face. I took it as a no. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.

"As much as I wish we could leave, I'm glad you like it here," I said and lifted my jumbo margarita to my lips. Here was 'Paco's' an excellent, if slightly divey bar and restaurant with an eccentrically eclectic playlist. I'd stumbled on it following a recommendation from a friend and it had become one of Josh and my favourite spots. At least it had been, until Lenka had slunk her way into his life.

Willow grinned at me over the rim of her glass, "Are you kidding? I love it. And you were right, these things are enormous." She took a sip and smacked her lips with satisfaction. Warmth unfurled in my chest at just being around her.

She was able to make herself at home in any situation. I'd never met anyone like her. She could look expensively glamorous when it suited her, fitting in comfortably in the over-the-top luxury that was our honeymoon, but she didn't crave it like some of the other women I'd met. Here she was, adorably simple and just as gorgeous, completely at ease in the dim lighting and sticky floors of Paco's. She always seemed ready for the next adventure.

She's your perfect woman.

It hit me like a brick to the head and left me breathless for a moment. In the past, if you'd ever asked me to describe my perfect woman, I'd have spat out a shallow list of physical requirements not one of which would have matched to Willow. Now I couldn't imagine anyone who didn't look like her. And her looks weren't even the reason why I'd suddenly realised that there was no one else for me. It was her humour, her sass, her intelligence.