Bête noire → Peaky Blinders [Tommy Shelby] [ BOOK 1 ]

Forty.

Chapter forty: Violent delights

"So he got to bid his goodbyes to the love of his life then?"

Thomas sighed and cupped Caroline's cheek, lightly caressing her skin with sad eyes. "He won't be gone forever, sweetheart. I promise. I made sure he got in safely even though it's quite clear he doesn't want to be near me."

"It's hard for him, you know." Caroline rested her hand atop Tommy's. "You may not like your father, but if someone killed him, you wouldn't like them."

He nodded curtly and spoke with reassurance. "I know, I know. Oscar and I are family now-legally soon-so I won't give up trying to make amends with him."

Caroline pouted playfully with a hum. "You know, you can be a right dear when you aren't slitting people's throats."

"Likewise." His calloused hand moved from her cheek, gently moving to her hair that he toyed with, pushing strands away from the frame of her face so he could place a kiss on her forehead. "I've missed this. I've missed us."

Her smile mellowed, melancholy radiating in her doe brown eyes, hidden behind thick dark lashes. "I don't suppose you love me even more with these bruises on my face."

He stood back, jokingly examining her features with intent. "Now that you mention it, they make you significantly more unattractive."

Caroline yelped with shock and gently slapped his broad chest. "I earned these on your behalf, so count yourself lucky you're not getting gawked at every time you leave the house!"

"You're not used to anything less. I bet you gawk back until they peer off."

"Of course I do." She folded her arms. "But it doesn't change the fact that they make me slightly self conscious."

With his thumb, he traced around the edges of her plump lips before he slowly pressed his own against them. So in depth, so in thought, so in love. It wasn't their casual lust they shared late at night, in the office or in the pub, but it was a type of craving for eternal marriage in which they'd never leave one another's side; in a world where they'd be happy together, forever.

After he pulled away, Thomas rested his forehead against Caroline's, almost towering over her figure but with his hands pressed against her waist to hold her in place, their eyes locked, dancing with one another in a fiery battle to challenge the other to drown in their gaze, he couldn't bare to face reality. So, on cloud nine in the fantasy world of blissful romance, he spoke so low and husky that his tone sounded like gravel, though it was full of passion despite their lack of rose petal, dripping waterfall in the background of a sunny day field scenery.

"If anything, they make you more attractive." He whispered into her ear, watching closely as minuscule hairs rose along her neck. "They tell me that you're strong and in pain, but you push through the war wounds and carry the weight of the world on your shoulders with ease."

"It's only possible because I have you." She whispered back, turning her head aside so their noses brush against one another. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Thomas. I'm terrified to think of what could become of me if you leave."

"You know I'd never leave you."

"Willingly, no. Sabini's out for blood, preferably yours. If he gets what he wants, I suppose I'll die too."

Thomas sighed deeply. "Don't think like that, alright? I'm not dying, not now, not tomorrow, not in a year. We have a wedding to plan, eh? Enough of the heavy, let's begin."