Sinful Like Us

by Ritchie, Krista

  I turn to the location page, and my lips downturn. “The saddest part of being trapped in Scotland is that Maximoff and Farrow will never choose it as their wedding location. It’s cursed. So now we’re back to ground zero.”

  Daisy raises her brows. “Your binder is overflowing. That doesn’t look like ground zero.”

  Lily nods. “You’ve got a lot of stuff going on there.” She scoops a handful of M&Ms from the snack bowl.

  My mom has a coy smile as she passes around full wine glasses to her sisters. “You’ve enjoyed planning their wedding.” She doesn’t phrase this like a question.

  “Of course.” I run a finger over the possible guest list (still to be refined). “Must be the Rose Calloway Cobalt gene in me. Planning and organizing.”

  She sends me a pointed look like I am so wrong. “You do know that I planned Lily’s wedding, and I despised every second of it.”

  My mouth falls.

  I knew she organized Lily’s wedding, which eventually became her own wedding to my dad when Aunt Lily and Uncle Loren decided not to marry that soon. But I always thought my mom loved the planning process.

  “But…you’re…” You.

  “My gremlin.” She gives me a look. “Do you really believe I’d have a good time calling florists, venues, and delegating out every last inch of a party? No, that you got from your father.”

  I’m intrigued. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that I’m more like him and a little less like you.”

  “You’re not more like him.” She sounds resolute. Definitive. “He’s hardly the type to celebrate love, let alone organize a party around the concept—unless it involves the very few people he does love.”

  Lily nods in agreement. “Your big, overwhelming heart comes from your mom.”

  Into a sip of wine, my mom says, “Even though mine is hidden behind a layer of ice.”

  So I’m a bit of both. My mom and my dad.

  The knowledge warms me like the feeling you receive when you finish a very good book. I flip another page and skim my fingertips over tablecloth samples, stapled in the binder.

  My mom watches me. “Have you given thought to your passion?”

  I look up with a bright smile. “Yes. I’ve realized I don’t need one.” I explain my epiphany that I had in Scotland, and they all seem happy until I add, “Once the holidays are over, I’m going to ask Dad to work at Cobalt Inc. in the finance department. I’ll enjoy it there for a while, then I’ll bounce around to another place to help the family.”

  Daisy chugs her wine.

  “You don’t need a passion,” my mom agrees. “You never have, but Jane…” Her yellow-greens drill into me like I’m missing a glaring sign smack-dab in front of my nose.

  “I don’t…understand.” I frown.

  “Tu as déjà trouvé ta passion. Regarde.” You’ve already found your passion. Look.

  I follow her eyes to the binder on my lap.

  My pulse is on an immediate ascent. “No, no…this is just a project for Maximoff and Farrow. It’s not…” I stop myself because my aunts and my mom wear these loving smiles.

  My mom deserts her wine glass on the crate. “You just spent thirty minutes telling us everything from food options to table arrangements. And I wish we had a mirror, Jane, because if you saw yourself, you wouldn’t be questioning anything.”

  Everything slows around me.

  The air whistles and my skin chills. Is it possible for a love of something so deep to creep up on you without even knowing? Without even searching?

  How long have I explored far and wide for a passion that I could turn into a career? And here it found me…triggering a yearning that I haven’t felt before.

  My heart opens completely. To possibility. A future. Where I smooth chaos and solve puzzles and juggle madness all at once. And seeing, feeling the spellbinding happiness of loving partners on their special day.

  The image…it fills me.

  “I could plan other weddings besides Maximoff and Farrow’s,” I say, hopeful, letting that reality into the air.

  My mom looks at me like I’m her daughter. Flesh and blood come to life. “You can do anything, gremlin.”

  Anything.

  I choose this.

  “Thank you,” I breathe.

  I’m not sure I would have been able to see what was in front of me without them. I touch my watering eyes. Lily is sniffling, already crying. Daisy passes her a tissue.

  My mom wafts a hand at her face, drying her eyes before they well up. “I hate you all. I’m wearing fresh mascara.”

  We laugh.

  “Speaking of Scotland.” Daisy tosses a chocolate chip in her mouth. “Tell us everything that happened with you and the spritely hunk.”

  Spritely hunk.

  I love my family dearly.

  How do I describe Thatcher? I’ve tried to before, but this is different. We’ve spent over thirty days stuck in a house together. We spent a night trapped in a car. I’ve broken up with him, made up with him, and he’s still embraced me fully, without compromise.

  I love him.

  I smile into a soft breath. That much has been clear. But… “I shouldn’t need him so much, and I find myself aching to be swallowed whole too often to be healthy.” Setting the beer aside, I hug the binder to my chest and bend my knees. “I’m scared to love him, but God, I do. So infinitely and terribly.”

  It’s a truth I’ve never shared with them. One I’ve become much better at expressing aloud.

  My mom leans forward and takes my hand in hers. Our eyes close, noses near, and I hang onto every word as she says, “You’re not two halves, Jane. You don’t lose when you love. You gain.” She draws closer to whisper, “You have all of him.”

  And he has all of me.

  Not yet.

  I consistently pull back on Thatcher.

  Realizations wash over me coolly. “All this time, I thought love is a compromise of equals. 50-50. But it’s not…is it?”

  She leans back and gives me another pointed look. “With the right person, they’ll ensure you’re always whole.”

  A dam bursts inside of me. Freeing all restraints, and a feeling flutters so wildly. I rise quickly. Hurried. “I have to go. I have to…” I can hardly release the words into the air.

  “Go.” Her eyes twinkle and she waves towards the hatch.

  My pulse beats and beats, and I scale down the ladder. Cold air nipping my neck and bare feet.

  “Where is she going?” Aunt Lily asks, her voice carrying behind me.

  “To make a grand gesture.” My mom has to be smiling. I hear it beneath her words.

  “We’re following her, right?” Aunt Daisy asks, hopeful.

  “Grab your coats,” my mom tells them as I drop down to the soft grass. Snow melted a few days ago, and I sprint.

  Really, it’s a light jog.

  I head down the driveway into the cul-de-sac and race up the neighborhood street. Gated and safe, no irksome bodyguard named Tony needed.

  Cold slices my lungs, and I keep pace, reaching the long, winding driveway of the Cobalt Estate. My childhood home.

  Naked tulip trees frame the driveway, and I take a single breath before ascending the path. Thatcher was invited to an Outlander marathon with Eliot and Audrey. Since he was off-duty tonight, he agreed to go. I love that he’s spending time with my siblings like they’re his own.

  Sentiments whirl around me. Fuel me.

  I run harder.

  I’m out of breath as I reach the ornate fountain that guards a castle-like mansion. Icicles drip off the stone fountain, but its not frozen solid. The sound of rushing water calms my spinning brain, and I text Thatcher to meet me outside.

  Fifteen seconds later, the door swings open, and Thatcher emerges, all six-foot-seven of him. Bold and quiet and assertive.

  “Thatcher,” I greet deeply.

  “Jane,” he says just as fully. He assesses me in a sweep. Lingering on my bare feet, pajamas, and lack of co
at in the winter. He’s already removing his brown leather jacket while he closes the door behind him.

  I can barely contain what aches and pleads to explode out of me. My breath smokes the air as he approaches. Towering above.

  I crane my neck to look up.

  He stares down and places his warm jacket on my shoulders.

  “Thank you,” I breathe, slipping my arms through the big sleeves that engulf my frame. I hug the jacket around me, his scent dizzying. “I just…” I inhale. “There’s so much I want to tell you.”

  A sliver of space separates him from me. Tension beckoning us to draw skin-to-skin. Neither crosses the distance, because once we do this will turn into raw, desperate passion. Our lips together, bodies fused—and right now, words must come first.

  He seizes my gaze, with me to the end. Ready for whatever grenade I toss, but this one won’t blow us to pieces.

  And I gush, “I need you. I need you like the air I breathe, and I want you like ground beneath my feet. I’m not afraid—I’m not afraid, not even a little. You are the man who has respected all of who I am and protected every little piece of me.”

  His chest lifts in a strong breath. We stare powerfully, not wasting a moment to blink.

  “You keep me whole,” I profess. “And love—that dreaded, beautiful word—love.” I breathe, “Love is two wholes. We are two-hundred percent—an illogical number, maddening, and I will forever embrace every illogical, maddening second with you.” Tears threaten to surge.

  We’ve drawn closer, touching without touching.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you.” It pours out of me. “Je’taime, je’taime, je’taime.” He’s already clasping my face, and I’m in his arms, legs wrapped around his waist. Our foreheads nearly press together, and his lips skim over my lips.

  “Jane.” My name is cast in love.

  We kiss, so intensely that the cold breath in my lungs sparks into flames. For the longest time, out of all the March sisters in Little Women—I aspired to be Jo. Fiercely independent with career passions and desires far outside a household.

  It turns out, all along, I resisted against being Meg. I want to be a wife and to one day raise children, a life as traditional as they come, and that ending is as worthy as any other.

  We stare deeply into each other. His hands beneath the backs of my thighs, my fingers woven behind his neck.

  I take a deeper, stronger breath. “Mr. Moretti, will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

  His mouth breaks apart. He looks stunned.

  “I’m asking you to marry me,” I clarify.

  He smiles. Ladies and gentlemen, a full-blown smile that overtakes his face.

  My lips pull to extraordinary heights. Happiness swelling between us.

  “I know what that was.” He places me gently on my bare feet.

  Fountain still rushing beside us.

  I don’t understand what he’s doing until he drops down to one knee. And he unpockets a paperclip, twisting the metal between his fingers into a little ring, and I laugh, tears pricking my eyes.

  My steepled fingers touch my lips.

  His eyes are reddened, and he holds up the paperclip ring. “Yes. My answer will always be yes.” He slides the ring onto my finger. “Sempre toujours.”

  Always always.

  He stands back up and lifts me effortlessly. I’m in his arms again. Kissing, and my heart is overcome with a thousand words. Branded on his lips, on his body and soul.

  Our kiss ignites fires. Melts snow and burns the grounds beneath our feet. It is filled with epic, soul-crushing love. And we’re armored for whatever storm comes next.

  I hope and plead that nothing will ever tear us apart.

  42

  THATCHER MORETTI

  A single beam of morning light slips through blinds, through cheetah-print curtains, and glides across Jane’s cheek as she sleeps soundlessly. I lean midway up the headboard, holding her against my chest while her arms curl around my bicep.

  I don’t move a muscle. I could stay right here all day long.

  And the fact is—I can.

  Nowhere else I have to be, not until tonight at least. Wednesday. I’m off-duty thanks to Donnelly, picking up the extra slack with Xander.

  He told me, “You’ve got a Wednesday Night Dinner to prepare for. First non-Cobalt to walk those hallowed halls. Do us proud, man.”

  Her parents invited me to the mysterious and legendary dinner party. But only after they admitted to knowing about the twin switch…and they knew from the moment Banks dodged their calls.

  And they didn’t tell the Tri-Force.

  Rose said to Jane and me, “We kept the secret because that’s obviously what you both wanted, and it’s just a morbid fact that you didn’t trust us and decided to keep us out of the loop.” She seemed hurt but layered on a cold glare.

  “You’re close to Price,” Jane explained in a rush. “We were worried you’d tell the Alpha lead.”

  Rose frowned. “Of course we trust Price, but that does not mean we’d put him above you. I’m sorry if your dad and I made you feel like we would.” She held her daughter’s hands. “We will always choose you first. You’re my blood and bones.”

  Jane hugged her mom.

  I looked to Rose, then to Connor. “I’m sorry for lying. It wasn’t our intention.” I explained briefly how we thought it’d just be a short week.

  “You’re dating our daughter,” Connor said like that had made all the difference during the switch. “I recognize that Jane didn’t know how this would go since she’s the first of my children to be in a serious relationship. But know now that there’s a hierarchy.” His lip rose in a grin. “Many people need me, but there are only a handful that I’d drop everything for—and you’re now among them.” He cocked a single brow. “Just so you understand: you rank higher than security, and I would lie for you, if needed.”

  He’d lie for me.

  That knowledge still whirls my head.

  “Lastly,” Connor said, “don’t apologize for trying to deceive me, but I will accept an apology for failing.”

  We shook hands.

  He’s unlike most men I meet. Which isn’t surprising. We’re not cut from the same cloth. He grew up affluent and went to an elite boarding school in upstate New York. He’s bred for prep school games and aristocratic rules that I’m still learning.

  But he treated me like I was worthy of his daughter.

  That’s all I could ask for.

  I feel good about my standing with her parents. But with her five brothers and little sister—fuck if I know. Charlie said I haven’t finished the Truth or Dare game yet. I could walk into Wednesday Night Dinner, and they could banish me for fucking eternity.

  Even being engaged to Jane hasn’t changed anything with her siblings. They reacted to the news like someone offering a weather report. Jane said they’re keeping things close to the vest until the game ends. But I hated seeing Audrey purposefully temper her excitement.

  At least I don’t have to fucking guess how the rest of her family feels. Overjoyed is a soft word for their reaction. Her parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins were beyond ecstatic. Luna and Sulli shrieked and grabbed Jane’s hands and the three of them started jumping up and down together.

  But the biggest reaction was Maximoff’s. Her best friend. He hugged Jane. Then gave me a hug. He said, “I’m proud of Jane for following her heart, and I’m glad you’re the guy on the other side of it.”

  I’d repeat that moment a thousand times just to see the happiness on Jane’s face over and over again.

  Back in bed, Jane’s eyes begin to flutter open. Curiosity in them as she looks up at me. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Not long.” I brush some frizzed hair off her cheek.

  She stirs more, smiling, and then glances at her left hand splayed on my muscular bicep, the makeshift ring still on her finger.

  Our engagement wasn’t a dream.

  It was r
eal. It’s been real since she proposed a couple weeks ago.

  “I’m getting you an actual ring,” I tell her straight out.

  Her lips suddenly downturn and she props herself higher, her left hand sliding to my chest. “I like this one.”

  “You’re not wearing a paperclip forever.” I’m resolute and unyielding about this. I might not be able to afford a 5-carat diamond, but Jane is worth more than a two-cent piece of metal from OfficeMax.

  She opens her mouth to argue, but I kiss the top of her head, then her temple.

  Jane flushes and quiets at my touch, her nipples hardened against a silk blue top, and I clutch her ass that peeks out of the matching shorts. My cock twitches.

  Her smile grows, and she shifts on me and straddles my waist, palms splayed on my chest. As she bows forward, dog tags suspend from her neck.

  Same ones I wore during two tours overseas. They mean something to me, encapsulating a time of my life that civilians can’t understand—and I always planned to give them to the woman I’d marry.

  I wish I had brought them to Scotland, and I was kicking myself that I hadn’t.

  Because the dog tags were her Christmas gift.

  She notices me staring at them and her fingers clasp the metal. She cried when I first put them around her neck, knowing what they mean to me.

  Knowing what she means to me.

  “Have you thought more about what kind of car you’d like?” Jane wonders, sitting up straighter on me. My shoulders press into the headboard, and I warm her thighs with my palms. She knows I’m practical, and she wanted to gift me a practical thing for Christmas.

  A car.

  Too fucking much. But then, I thought about it, and she could’ve easily said the dog tags were too much. I need to let her give me more, and I could use a car.

  “Yeah.” I nod once. “Surprise me.”

  Her eyes brighten. “That, I can do.”

  My lip curves upward.

  And Jane struggles not to grin. “We’re engaged.” Her cheeks are beet-red.

  “We’re engaged.”

  Wouldn’t dream of anything else than to be next to Jane forever.