by M. S. Parker
“Absolutely.” She didn’t even look ruffled.
“Then we’ll order several varieties. Whatever you think would be appealing for fall, Gabriella. But our cake will be the one you like. The wedding cake we share.”
***
Later that night, I leaned against him as he sipped from a glass of bourbon. I had peach sweet tea. I’d been craving it ever since I talked to Honey and I’d made some as soon as we got back. It had made Edward chuckle, but then he’d kissed the top of my head and said that he was glad to see me smile.
Now, as the quiet of the night settled around us, I thought back over the day.
It had been the easiest one yet, as far as wedding planning had gone. Everything was falling into place, really. Edward was helping. His mother hadn’t sent me a single text or called even once, not after Edward had told her he’d be helping me now.
“Thank you,” I said softly, staring into the darkened hearth of the fire place.
“For what?” He toyed with the ends of my hair, wrapping them around his fingers over and over as he took another sip from his drink.
“For today. For helping. For being there.”
He made a low noise under his throat and leaned in, kissing my forehead.
It felt nice. It was nice.
Nice.
I was getting married soon and all I could think about planning my wedding with my fiancé, about curling up with him afterwards, was that it felt nice.
Why didn’t that feel right?
Why didn’t it feel like enough?
Chapter 4
Lips pursed, I stared between my bank balance and the money I owed, as if looking more than once would change anything.
The good news was that I actually had money left over in my checking account after I’d finished paying all my bills this month. The bad news was that I still owed money and that there was nothing coming in. If I’d still been living with Kendra and paying rent, I would’ve been completely screwed.
The luck I’d had in securing a job?
Nada.
The luck I’d had in getting any interest in the projects I’d been working so hard on?
Less than nada. If such a thing existed.
I couldn’t even get an agent to talk to me. I felt like a leper.
Maybe I was trying to make it in the wrong arena. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to be writing for television. Honestly, I just wanted to write. I wanted to entertain people and give them a chance to escape into fiction for a while. There were a lot of ways to do that. I just needed to find the way that was best suited to me, right?
But so far, I hadn’t had any luck finding anything.
The only way I’d been able to make any money...
“Don’t.”
Chewing on the tip of my pen, I shoved the glimmer of an idea out of my head and focused on the budget I’d been crafting. If I kept to it, then I should have enough money to last me a couple more months of job searching without having to borrow from Edward, which I definitely didn’t want to do.
I ignored the little voice that said by then, Edward and I would be married and I wouldn’t need to worry about money. I was determined to contribute. I wasn’t going to give any ammunition to anyone who thought I was marrying Edward for his money.
“Gabriella?”
I jolted at my desk. Edward had set it up for me in his study just a few days ago so we could work together without intruding on each other’s space. It was a cute little thing that perfectly complimented his furniture. It almost looked like it belonged there. More than I did, anyway.
Clutching my pen, I looked up and forced a smile. “Hello.”
“Working on the new assignment?” He smiled at me from the other side of the desk. He never came around to my side and I’d figured out why. He believed I was working under that NDA. He didn’t want to jeopardize it. My little lie.
“A few odds and ends.” I shrugged. I hated lying to him, even if it was a lie of omission.
Edward nodded. “I won’t be late tonight.” He hesitated a moment and then let his gaze drop to my mouth. “I’m looking forward to spending the evening with you.”
Biting my lip, I nodded slowly. There was a time when that look would have filled me with such a rush of heat, I might have gone after him then and there. Now, I simply smiled. It would be a nice thing to look forward to.
Later.
And son of a bitch, how messed up was that?
***
It was desperation that drove me to it. I’d swear that in front of a court of law, my best friend, my fiancé, and my mother. That was what I insisted, even to myself as I walked up to the door of Flynn’s studio. I hadn’t called.
I’d just stared at that number in my checkbook. The balance with not nearly enough zeroes and I’d realized if I didn’t secure a job and soon, that balance would soon be zero.
I’d enjoyed working for Flynn when he kept his hands to himself.
I almost felt like me in front of the camera, in front of him.
And I’d enjoyed all the ways modeling didn’t make me feel like me. I loved knowing that people saw me in those images and found me attractive, even if they didn’t know it was me. I loved feeling sexy and powerful, and this was the only place I’d ever felt that way. Here, with him.
It wasn’t only about the way I felt about myself though. I was doing what I needed to do to provide for myself. I even understood where that base need came from.
I adored my mother. I truly did. But she’d dropped out of college in her freshman year when she’d gotten pregnant with Duncan. She and Dad had gotten married right away instead of waiting until she graduated like they’d originally planned. Two years later came Suzanne, then a miscarriage. Catherine and I were only three years apart. Then there was another miscarriage, Jackson, and finally Jennifer.
Mom’d had her hands full of kids for nearly thirty busy years and I knew she didn’t regret it, not for a minute. But there had always been that unspoken fear, I knew. If something had happened to Dad, what would’ve happened to us? Now that it was only Jackson and Jennifer at home – though Jackson would be having his own home soon – it wasn’t as big of a deal. One of my siblings would move back in and help with the farm. But growing up, that hadn’t been the case.
When I was a kid, I’d had a friend, Juliet, on a neighboring farm. She’d been the oldest of four and when her dad had died, she’d been only twelve. Her mother had been like mine, like so many of the farmers’ wives I knew. No college degree, no work experience. She hadn’t had any family to help her and the only job she’d been able to find hadn’t been nearly enough to keep the farm. Juliet’s family had lost the farm to foreclosure a year later and I’d never seen her again.
I wanted to know I could chase my dreams. Chase my dreams and be able to provide for whatever family I might have, no matter what happened. I wanted the world and the sky. I missed that rush in front of the camera.
Edward made me feel valued and treasured, but standing in front of that camera, I felt like a woman. A strong, powerful one and it provided the kind of money that I knew could secure my future, regardless of any sort of shit life would throw my way.
And I just plain and simple missed it.
I’d gotten hooked on the thrill of it. I’d somehow managed to find myself in front of a camera and I didn’t want to lose the way it felt.
That was how I ended up in front of the doorway of Flynn’s studio yet again.
It’d been several weeks since I’d been here, but it felt the same.
Music was blasting from inside. I could hear it, some deep, driving rhythm that assaulted my ear drums and echoed inside my heart, which was probably why he wasn’t answering the door. He’d ramped up the music a time or two when we’d been shooting. I thought it was his way of clearing his head.
He never locked the studio door when he was working since Cody was rarely on time, so I knew I could walk in even though he hadn’t answered my knock. I didn’t exactly feel
right just walking in when I knew he was working, but it was professional, not personal. It didn’t matter who he was flirting with. I could just wait while he finished up and then ask if he had any work for me. Considering the alternative was to stand out here, knocking every few minutes until he heard me, it wasn’t a hard decision to make.
I opened the door and stepped inside.
It took less than two minutes to realize what a big mistake I’d made.
It took less than two minutes and five seconds to realize what an utter fool I was.
For the past few weeks, his voice, his words, had haunted my dreams. He’d said it, and I’d been stupid enough to believe him.
Stupid.
Now I had proof of how wrong I’d been to believe anything he said.
I can’t stop thinking about you, Gabriella. You’re in my head, in my dreams…it’s like you’ve crawled inside my soul and I can’t get you out.
I counted the days that had passed since he’d kissed me, since he’d told me those words. So few, and yet...
“Flynn!”
The cry bounced off the walls and blood rushed up to stain my cheeks, heating them as I stood there, staring at his broad, muscled back as he drove his hips upward. The woman he was fucking arched and screamed. She was golden-skinned with jet-black hair and absolutely gorgeous. From where I stood, I could see she was still partially dressed and when Flynn half-turned and stretched her back out over the couch, it presented me with the full, ripe curves of her body. Some people called plus-sized goddess sized. Now I could see why.
He slid a hand up her waist and filled one hand with her breast, teasing the swollen nipple until she was panting and writhing. My core ached, spasmed, and I could feel my own nipples drawing tight in response as he toyed with her.
But for reasons I didn’t want to understand, my heart hurt.
I had no business wishing it was me over there. I had no business feeling the burn of envy and I had no reason to feel betrayed.
But I did.
“Flynn…Flynn…” The woman panted out his name, her hips moving in a fast rhythm as she stared up at him, her gaze fixed. “Please!”
His expression was almost…empty.
I wondered if she noticed, or if she even cared.
As she started to come, I backed up, keeping my body pressed to the wall so they wouldn’t notice me. I was shaking as I closed the door behind me. I pressed my hand against my chest, not wanting to think about why I felt like there was a hole there, a great, black, gaping hole.
I can’t stop thinking about you, Gabriella. You’re in my head, in my dreams…it’s like you’ve crawled inside my soul and I can’t get you out.
“Looks like he got me out,” I whispered.
He’d gotten me out and he’d moved on. That was a good thing and I was happy about it. Really.
If I said it enough, it would be true.
Chapter 5
The fire burned merrily away in the hearth for aesthetic purposes. The air conditioning was blasting away in competition for comfort, but wasn’t really succeeding. While my front was toasting, my back was shivering, and I was thoroughly chilled inside. I doubted that had anything to do with the air conditioning though.
I’d known I couldn’t keep doing this, so after a lot of thought, I’d decided what I wanted to do. The problem would be talking Edward into it because it wasn’t simply a matter of giving me what I wanted.
I’d been even more miserable over the past couple days. Indecision had never suited me, but anymore I didn’t know which way to turn, what to do, whether I wanted to go left or right.
I told myself that the wedding was the biggest source of stress going on right now. Every time I thought of having to deal with another meeting with Estelle, thinking about seeing Claire and listen to her sly put downs, it just made everything worse. I wanted to marry Edward, but planning the damned thing was going to give me ulcers.
Planning the wedding was the problem.
I refused to let myself think about the twisting knots that tangled up my gut whenever I thought about Flynn’s hand sliding up a golden-skinned torso, cupping a large, heavy breast before toying and tugging on a plump, ripe nipple. When I remembered the way he’d been thrusting into her. The sound of her screaming his name.
Even as envy burned inside, lust made my body burn in ways that would have been unfamiliar. Except he’d already taught me all about this sort of mind numbing heat. Made my body crave it.
Who was she?
Even as the thought went through my head, I wanted to kick myself. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t my problem. Neither was he. He’d moved on and that was good. Now I needed to focus on what was dragging me down. The wedding. Specifically, planning it.
“Gabriella?”
At the sound of Edward’s voice, I turned my head. I even managed to smile as I stood up. Wrapping my arms around myself as I faced him, I mentally went through my prepared little speech again.
“Can we talk?”
I explained everything just the way I’d rehearsed it, calmly and matter-of-fact. I barely let any hint of what I was feeling show in my words. I had to make it clear that I wasn’t being emotional.
By the time I’d finished, Edward had taken up my former position at the fireplace. “I wish you would have told me how upsetting you found all of this before. I would have...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, lifting his gaze to stare up at the ceiling as though all his answers lay there. “Then again, if I’d been paying more attention, I would have seen it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Guilt battered me. Twisting my fingers into knots, I forced myself to smile. “I should have spoken up sooner. It’s not like I totally lack that ability.”
His amused laugh lightened my heart and he came to me, cupping my face in his hands. A fluttering sensation danced inside me as he kissed me, quick and light. “So I’ve learned. My mother has been quite taken aback. She isn’t used to people taking her on like that, Gabriella.” The laughter faded from his face, then his eyes. His expression grew thoughtful, serious. “I have a proposal for you.”
“You already did that.” Tugging on his tie, I leaned in and kissed his chin, ridiculously relieved that he didn’t appear to be angry with me.
“Funny.” He pinched my chin. “We can have a small, private ceremony, for us, our family and closest friends. You can do everything you want. Colors, dresses, everything. Estelle can help if you want, but you don’t have to ask her. Then we’ll have the big ceremony as planned. We can leave everything that’s already been decided and then let Mom and Estelle take care of the rest. You won’t have to worry about arguing with her anymore. Just nod and smile while you’re thinking of everything you want to do for our private ceremony.”
Two weddings. That was his solution. My heart started to fall to my feet. I could see the sense here, I supposed. A wedding for me and, basically, a wedding for Claire.
It would be nice to have what I wanted without arguing with her, and it would help things between the two of us if I started agreeing to everything she wanted. Edward had found the peaceful solution that should have made everyone happy.
“What do you think?” he asked quietly.
Despondent, I dropped my head onto his shoulder. The entire idea of still having the big wedding left my head pounding. I was starting to hate the very idea of it, and it wasn’t because it was going to be big. That, I could’ve handled. It was the fact that it wasn’t about me and Edward. It was about being a Bouvier and everything that went with it. This hadn’t been what I’d wanted when I’d decided to talk to Edward.
Eyes closed, I let my mind drift, hoping to find some sort of peace in the lack of direction, but it took only seconds before I was once again reliving the memory from hours earlier. Flynn skin to skin with another woman. The ache in my chest grew.
Damn him! I wanted to scream or cry or kick something. Or someone. Preferably Flynn.
“Okay,” I heard
myself saying. Then I looked up at Edward and smiled. “That sounds good.”
It didn’t matter. It wasn’t about the wedding anyway. It was about the life Edward and I were starting together. If this made him feel like he’d made peace between Claire and me, I’d do it and I’d be grateful that I was marrying someone who made it possible for me to have two weddings.
***
Rising up over Edward, I braced my hands on his chest and arched my back. His cock pulsed deep inside me and the pleasure rolled through me, sweet and easy.
But sweet wasn’t what I wanted. Sweet wouldn’t drive away the dark cloud that hung over me.
Grabbing his hands, I brought them to my breasts. I tried to block out the images flooding through my head as I urged him to touch me. His thumbs brushed across my hard nipples, but I didn’t want brushes and caresses. I wanted something sharp and intense, but I didn’t know how to tell him. I didn’t want him to feel like he wasn’t enough.
He groaned out my name and arched up, moving harder, faster. I fell forward, driving my hands into the mattress on either side of his head. His eyes, so dark and lovely, stared into mine. I slammed myself down onto him and heat blasted me. I shuddered and cried out. I was so close.
He caught my hips, squeezing tight enough to make me moan. That’s what I wanted. His name tore from my lips and he hesitated. Riding him harder, I fought for the orgasm that seemed almost out of reach. I curled my fingers in the sheets, imagining it was my nails biting into his skin.
In the next second, I found myself on my back as he flipped me over. His mouth crushing mine, Edward began to drive into me, harder and faster. The passion began to overwhelm me. Bodies sliding together, sweat slicking our flesh, I stared up at him. It was almost enough, almost hard and rough enough.
