“What are you doing?” she asked, looking around the empty parking lot.
“Hey,” I called, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Come here.”
“Let’s just go, Tommy,” she said, shaking her head.
“No, come here,” I ordered again. I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for her, yanking her onto my lap.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m crazy about you,” I said seriously, running my hand up the back of her neck so I could grip her hair in my fingers. “No joke. I like you.”
“I like you, too,” she said pointedly, trying to scoot off my lap.
I ignored her movements and waited until her eyes met mine again. “All this shit wasn’t happenin’, we’d wait and see how it goes,” I said softly. “But that’s not how it played out. As long as we’re together, though—I’ll be good to you. I won’t cheat. I won’t ever lift a hand to you. I’ll take care of you.”
“I don’t need you to take care of me.”
“That’s why I want to.” I leaned forward and kissed her, barely brushing my lips against hers. “For as long as this lasts, we’re a team. Okay?”
“Okay,” she murmured, dropping her forehead against mine. “I’m kind of freaking out.”
“Nothin’ to freak out about,” I promised her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “We’re two idiots that are too young to get married but are doin’ it anyway. End of story. People can say whatever they want. We’re a team now. What they say don’t matter.”
“Let’s go get this over with,” she said with a sigh, reaching up to place her palm against the side of my face as she kissed me gently. “If your dad says any rude shit to me I’m gonna junk punch him.”
I laughed as she climbed back into her seat. “That’s probably not your best idea,” I muttered as I pulled out of the parking lot.
It took us twenty minutes to get to my parents’ house, but it felt like five. By the time we pulled in, Heather’s knee was bouncing like a jackhammer and my palms were sweaty as fuck. I didn’t know how other people did it—got married even though they knew their family was going to freak the fuck out. Maybe it was different when you were in love and sure you were doing the right thing. I was sure I was doing the right thing, the best thing, but I was still nervous as fuck when I climbed out of the Nova and met Heather at the front of the car.
“Let’s do this,” she said, giving me a goofy smile as she grabbed my hand.
She’d been visibly anxious the entire day, but it was as if all of a sudden she’d tucked that anxiety away and she was full of confidence. She didn’t even falter when I ushered her inside the house and we found Molly and Will sitting in the living room with my parents. I hadn’t wanted to worry her more by letting her know I’d asked my brother to meet us there, too, but I was hoping his presence would keep things relatively calm. I’d been sort of counting on Rebel being in the room so my dad couldn’t lose it, but I didn’t see her anywhere.
“Hey, guys!” my mom said in surprise, flashing us a wide smile. “Why the hell isn’t anyone working today?”
“Dad told me to take the morning off,” I said, leading Heather farther into the room. “We just wanted to drop by and give you guys some news.”
My dad’s eyes narrowed and he sat forward while my mom and Molly looked at us in confusion. Will settled back in his seat like he was waiting for the show to start.
“We’re getting married,” Heather blurted with a smile. She lifted up her hand and flashed the tiniest diamond I’d ever seen in my life. Thank God she’d had something to put on her finger before we’d left her apartment, because I hadn’t even thought of it.
“You’re what?” my mom asked dubiously.
“We’re getting married,” I answered, looking at my dad. “This Friday.”
“Bullshit,” my dad said. He didn’t raise his voice, but Heather still stiffened at my side, her fingernails digging into my arm.
“We went and got our paperwork this mornin’,” I told him calmly. “It’s not bullshit.”
“You’re a child for fuck’s sake.”
“Legal in every state,” I retorted flatly.
“You think I don’t got enough on my plate?” he asked, rising to his feet.
“Asa,” my mom murmured, following him up.
“I thought we were done dealin’ with your bullshit,” he muttered. “Why the fuck did I buy you that house?”
“You didn’t buy my motherfuckin’ house,” I spat back, my skin heating with embarrassment. “You helped out with the down payment and I already fuckin’ paid you back!”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, scratching at his beard.
“We just came to let you know,” I said stiffly. “That’s it.”
“You just came to let us know that you’re marryin’ some cunt you barely know, and—” His words came to an abrupt stop when my fist met his teeth.
“Thomas!” my mom yelled.
Before anything else could happen, Will was stepping between us, shoving my dad backward. “Get outta here, Tommy,” he ordered. “Now.”
I shook my head and glanced back at Heather, who was pale and visibly shaking. “Come on, sugar,” I called softly, reaching out my hand.
Before I could take another breath, her fingers were clasped firmly in mine.
“I’m sorry, Ma,” I said as I pulled Heather against my side. “I told you I wasn’t gonna take anymore of that shit.”
“I know, baby,” Mom replied, her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll talk to him, okay? And I’ll help anyway you need it with the—” she stuttered to a stop. “With the wedding. If you want me to.”
“I have no idea what I’m doing, so that would be awesome,” Heather said with a small smile.
Then I was dragging her out of the house and down the front steps. When we climbed in the Nova she let out a shuddery breath and turned to look at me.
“The hard part’s over, right?”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“How’s your hand?”
“It hurts like a bitch,” I said, shaking it out before stuffing the keys into the ignition.
“Jesus,” she said. “You sure know how to make an announcement.”
Chapter 9
Heather
“I’m getting married,” I announced, pulling the phone away from my ear as my sister started yelling.
I’d known she would be the hardest person to convince I wasn’t insane, so I’d saved her phone call for last. When I’d talked to my parents, they hadn’t said much. They’d confirmed I’d still be attending college and that Tommy had a steady job and wouldn’t be living off my college fund and they’d agreed to be at our wedding later in the week. It was as simple as that. My parents loved me, but they’d pretty much stopped ‘parenting’ when I’d been old enough to cook my own food.
It was Mel that I had to convince everything was great. She was the one who’d made sure I’d gotten to school on time. She was the person who’d held back my hair when I was sick and had helped me move into my apartment.
My parents may have loved me, but Mel was the one who’d always taken care of me.
“You’re out of your mind,” she finally said, her rant coming to an end. “You’re not getting married for Christ’s sake. Rocky got married when he was young. You know how that turned out.”
“Well I’m not marrying a Russian mobster’s daughter, so I think I’ll be okay,” I snapped back, exhausted by the day’s events. Everything was happening so quickly that I hadn’t had a minute to just sit by myself and let it all sink in.
“No, you’re marrying into the Aces,” she said incredulously.
“Oh, so it’s fine for you but not for me?”
“You’re better than I am,” she blurted. “You have all this stuff going for you. You’re in college. You’re super smart and ambitious.”
“That’s stupid,” I argued, my throat tight. “Don’t say shit like that. Besides, I’m still going to go to school. I’ll
still get my degree.”
“Yeah, until your new husband knocks you up.”
“Oh, that’s bullshit! Newsflash, Tommy and I are already fucking and it isn’t 1952.”
“I’m just saying,” she retorted. “Priorities change when you get married.”
“I’m not having kids any time soon,” I said firmly. “I’m still going to get my degree.”
Mel huffed and went silent. After about thirty seconds she finally spoke again. “Okay, what time on Friday?”
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Tommy and I didn’t do much, mostly just hung around the apartment while he made calls, letting people know about the wedding. Dragon agreed we could have it in the field behind the clubhouse, and I found it incredibly ironic we’d be getting married right on top of the scorched grass where we’d first started talking again.
There wasn’t a single person congratulating us without also trying to talk us out of it. As the day went on Tommy grew quieter and quieter, and by the time I started making dinner he was sitting silently on my patio staring out into the night.
He was trying to do the right thing, I knew that, but as his eyes grew darker with every phone call he made, I wondered if we were going about everything all wrong. Tommy was so adamant his parents could never find out about Mick, he was burning bridges left and right. I wasn’t so sure that we couldn’t have told them something. We could have explained our plan somehow while leaving Mick out of it, but every time I’d even mentioned letting Grease and Callie know what was really going on he’d shot me down.
“Hey,” I said, standing in the doorway. “Do you want fajitas or baked chicken? I have the stuff for both so I—”
“Whatever you want,” he replied, cutting me off.
I nodded even though he wasn’t looking at me and walked back inside, anxiety making me nauseous. I’d agreed to his plan. I’d gone to the county clerk’s office for the paperwork, tagged along to his parents’ house even though I’d known it was going to be terrible, and I’d announced our news to my family. I’d done all that with the knowledge that Tommy and I were a team. That even though we weren’t in love, and even though no one was supportive, we were going to stick together.
Suddenly, I was feeling very alone.
* * *
“Are you coming to bed?” I asked later that night.
I’d fallen asleep right after dinner, worn out from the day’s events, but three hours later I’d woken up to find myself alone. Tommy was still sitting in a lawn chair on the back patio, the scent of pot wafting from him, and his head tipped up to the sky.
“What are you doin’ up?” he asked as I stopped in the open doorway.
“I rolled over and you weren’t there,” I said, wrapping my arms around my waist.
“You sound like a wife,” he joked, tapping his lighter on the edge of the chair.
“Don’t,” I said hoarsely. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” he asked lazily, rising to his feet and setting his pipe and lighter in the chair.
“Don’t make jokes about it.”
“Who was joking?” he asked, crowding me back into the apartment.
“I’m going back to bed,” I announced. I hated his tone. The way his lips were pulled up in a sarcastic smile. The way he was looking at me. I hated all of it.
He was miserable. I could see it. But none of the bullshit we’d been through that day had been my idea.
I turned away, but before I’d taken two steps, his arms were wrapped around my waist and his face was pressed against the side of my neck. I froze.
“This is gonna all work out,” he said, dropping one of his hands to run it lightly across my belly.
“Let’s just go to bed,” I murmured, refusing to relax against him. He was ready to kiss and make up after completely ignoring me all night? That was great. But I wasn’t so ready to start getting cozy again.
For as many people as had told him he was an idiot, and nuts, and going to regret marrying me… just as many had called me a bitch and a cunt and pussy. As in, “You’re really gonna throw your life away on some pussy?”
I’d talked to those people. I’d spent three weeks with them. I’d played with their kids. I’d helped the women make dinner and I’d played pool and horseshoes with the men. And not one, not a single one had said, “Oh, Heather? I liked her.” I’d never given a fuck about people’s opinions of me, but for the first time in my life I was experiencing the sensation of having a large group of people actively disliking me. I hated it.
It made me feel small.
“Come on, sugar,” Tommy said with a sigh. “We’ll deal with all this shit in the morning, yeah?”
I felt tears sting the back of my nose as he shuffled me across the room and gently helped me back into bed. It only took him a minute to strip down and then he was crawling in behind me and wrapping himself around me.
I fell asleep with his breath against the back of my neck, but I woke up to him yelling and shooting up off the bed like he was possessed.
“Tommy?” I asked, my gaze shooting around the apartment to try and figure out what had him jumping out of bed. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer me. His breath was coming in loud pants, and as I looked him over I noticed that not only was he covered in sweat, but the sheets were damp too. My clothes were clammy and stuck against my back.
“Are you sick?” I asked quietly, pushing back the covers.
He still hadn’t answered me as I rounded the bed, but he jerked away when I laid my hand against his side. He wasn’t hot. There was no way he had a fever when his skin was so cold and clammy.
“What’s going on?” I asked as he bowed his head and wrapped his fingers around the back of his skull.
“Just a bad dream,” he rasped out, shaking his head. “Just a fucked up dream.”
“Come back to bed,” I said softly, leaning down a little so I could peer up into his face. I was afraid to touch him again in case he pulled away. It had stung enough the first time.
“Gonna hop in the shower first,” he replied. He took a couple of unsteady steps backward then spun and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him while I stood there in confusion.
The shower turned on and I shook myself out of my stupor. He’d tell me what the dream was about if he wanted to. Asking him would just make him defensive. I knew at least that much about my future husband.
I stripped the bedding off the bed, and was almost finished remaking it when Tommy came out of the bathroom.
“Thought you’d be asleep,” he mumbled. He was completely naked but didn’t seem to care as he strode toward the bed.
“The sheets were kind of damp, so I put some clean ones on,” I replied, throwing the last pillow back on the bed.
“Sorry about that,” he said, finally meeting his eyes.
Just looking at him became painful then. It was as if every word he’d never said, and every hurt he’d ever felt were right there in his eyes, drowning him.
“Baby,” I whispered, my own eyes tearing up.
I didn’t move toward him, because suddenly he was right there, his hands in my hair and his mouth on mine. He groaned into my mouth when my hands came up to grip his sides, and one of his hands dropped straight down to push at my underwear.
“Need ya,” he said against my lips, pushing me back onto the bed so he could strip my panties down my legs.
As soon as I was bare, his fingers were on me, petting and pinching and pushing until I was on the brink of orgasm.
“Slow down,” I whispered, reaching up to cup his face in my palms. “Tommy.”
He made a noise in his throat then raised his eyes to meet mine as he pushed inside me.
“You don’t try to save me,” he said, completely confusing me. “I take care of you.”
“What?” I asked as he wrapped an arm under my ass and pushed me up the bed.
“Promise,” he said, bracing his elbows on the mattress so we
were locked together from chest to thighs. “If something happens, you take care of you first.”
“What’s going to happen?” I asked, my eyes watering. “Tommy?”
“Just promise,” he murmured, dropping his forehead against mine. He wasn’t even thrusting his hips anymore, he was just grinding, pressing, trying to get closer.
“I promise,” I said, searching his eyes.
“You take care of you first,” he ordered. “Say it.”
“I’ll take care of me first,” I replied softly. I knew the instant I said it, and his eyelids drooped in relief, that it was a lie.
* * *
“Wake up, wife,” Tommy said early the next morning, running his fingers up and down my bare back.
“I’m not your wife yet,” I replied, throwing my arm over my head. “Go away.”
“Can’t. My mom’s on her way over.”
“What?” I screeched, pushing frantically up onto my knees and swaying for a minute as I tried to get my bearings.
“Calm down.” He laughed as he reached out to steady me. “Told her you were sleepin’ so you’ve got an hour.”
“Why aren’t you at work?” I asked, pushing my hair out of my face.
“Called in,” he said as I got off the bed. “Gettin’ married tomorrow, figured it was as good a reason as any.”
“True,” I said, stumbling over to my dresser for some clothes. “Why is your mom coming here?”
“Her and my Aunt Farrah are takin’ you dress shoppin’,” he said casually.
I froze.
No.
Hell no.
I spun slowly to face him. He was watching me closely, but without any expression on his face. “Say again,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Pretty sure they called your sister, too,” he replied, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Not sure about your ma, though.”
“Are you outta your fucking mind?” I asked dubiously.
“She called this mornin’ askin’ if you had a dress. What was I supposed to tell her?”
“You were supposed to say anything that didn’t end up with me shopping for a wedding dress with your mother!” My voice rose with every word until I was practically yelling.
Craving Hawk Page 10
