“Marrying you wasn’t a mistake,” I whispered.
Remington closed his eyes. “Maybe it was. I was selfish. I didn’t think about your safety. All I cared about was giving you my name. It should have been enough to just have you love me. I never should have—”
“No,” I snapped and glared up at him. “And don’t you ever fucking say that to me again.” I glanced at Jenner, who was doing his best to pretend not to listen to us. This close, he looked younger than I’d first thought, maybe twenty-five at the most. But there was something about him that screamed even as young as he was, he had enough experience to take out any threat. “Fine. I promise not to go anywhere without Jenner at my side. Happy?”
“Don’t be mad,” my husband tried to soothe, the relief in his voice evident.
“Stop saying stupid shit,” I countered. “I’m going to forget you just said that to me, but if you ever say that or something like it again, I won’t be held responsible for what happens next.”
“And what’s that, my sweet, beautiful wife?” he asked with a grin as he bent and brushed his lips down my neck.
I tried not to melt against him, but when he skimmed his tongue over my bottom lip, I couldn’t help granting him access. When he lifted his head a few moments later, I tried to keep my glare in place. “I’m not joking around, Remi. Don’t say things like that again.”
Remorse filled his eyes. “I’m sorry, my love. Forgive me?”
“This time.” I pulled him down for another kiss. “I will never regret marrying you. I love being your wife.”
“I’ll do my best to never make you regret it.” With one more brush of his lips over mine, he took my hand. “Let’s go. I don’t want my new in-laws to hate me because we’re late.”
In the driveway, Remington’s car was already waiting. But instead of driving, he opened the back door for me, while Jenner got behind the wheel. I thought he meant Jenner was going to be with me whenever he wasn’t, but apparently he really did mean whenever I left the house. I didn’t know why he was so anxious about my safety all of a sudden, but I didn’t want to put more stress on him when he was already so ill, so I kept my mouth shut about it as we drove to my parents’ house.
Dad met us at the door when we got there, pulling me in for a tight hug and a kiss on top of my head. “It’s good to see you, sweetheart,” he murmured before releasing me and turning to shake Remington’s hand. “Come on in,” he said as he kept an arm around me and guided us into the living room.
Mom came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Seeing us, she squealed and pulled me in for a hug. “There’s my girl.” She kissed my cheek then hugged Remington. “Hey, son,” she said with a grin.
I watched his face when she called him “son,” and the way his eyes sparkled melted my heart. It had been a long, long time since Remington had had a real family, and I was glad I could give him that experience again with my own parents.
As we got comfortable in the living room, I glanced around for my brother. “Where’s Mason?”
“He took Oscar for a run, but he should be back before long.” Mom glanced at the gift bags Remington had placed at our feet when we sat down. “What’s this?”
“Just a little something for later,” I told them with a smile as I snuggled against Remington on the couch. “It’s for after dinner.”
“Honey, you really didn’t have to get us a gift,” Dad said. “We totally forgive you for the Vegas wedding.”
Something in his voice had me sitting forward a little, and I got a bad feeling. “Dad, you didn’t do anything, did you?”
“Like what, Vi?” he asked, stretching his legs out in front of him while Mom settled on the arm of his chair.
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” I felt Remington rub his hand soothingly down my back, but it couldn’t distract me when I saw the fire in Dad’s eyes. “You say you aren’t mad, but you look…well, kind of mad.”
“We aren’t mad at you or Remington,” he said with a shrug. “So, don’t worry about it.”
I muttered. “Which means you’re mad at someone. Who…? Aunt Layla,” I groaned, realizing exactly who he was angry with. “Dad, please. I didn’t tell you to cause trouble. I was only attempting to explain why I didn’t want a wedding.”
“Okay,” he said with a smile, but the fire in his eyes only spiked higher. “You explained. I understood. And she is no longer an issue.”
“Oh God.” I glanced at my husband, and he shook his head, telling me to let it go, but I couldn’t. “I bet people are already wondering if the band is breaking up.”
“It’s not,” Mom assured me, her face turning stormy. “Demon’s Wings is perfectly fine. Any recording that needs to be done for the new album can be accomplished without your father and Jesse having to be in the studio at the same time. And since they do live shows so rarely these days, that’s not an issue either.”
“I hate this,” I whispered. “You shouldn’t be having problems with them because of me.”
“She shouldn’t have said what she did,” Mom countered.
My heart began to ache, and I looked down at my hands. My engagement ring sparkled in the overhead lighting, and I tried to swallow the lump that filled my throat. “She was only worried about Luca. Don’t you think you would have done something just like that if the roles were reversed and it was him who got engaged?”
“No,” Dad answered in a tight voice. “Because I’m not that fucking selfish.”
“This is ridiculous. I never should have even said anything.”
“No, you should have said something when it happened so I could have taken care of it then and there,” Mom countered. “But it’s over now. What’s done is done. We’re making poor Remington tense.”
I glanced at him and realized his eyes had glazed over. Without thinking, I touched his jaw. “I’m sorry. Do you feel up to staying? We can go home and do this another night.”
He covered my hand and pressed my palm to his lips. “I’m fine,” he said with a smile. “Just give me a second, okay?” I nodded and he stood, excusing himself to use the bathroom.
When I heard the door close behind him, I slumped back against the couch. “What happened?”
“We had a long talk with Jesse and Layla,” Mom said. “They know how we feel, and they shared their own feelings on the subject. But we won’t be having any more family gatherings with them in the future.”
“Meaning there was lots of yelling. Which I’m sure Aunt Emmie had to break up. And now the family is torn apart because I fucked up and told you what happened.” I blinked back the sting of tears.
Dad sat forward and met my gaze. “Listen, Vi. There are some things that I will overlook. But for me, this was just too much. I get where she was coming from—honestly, I do. But no matter what, she shouldn’t have made you feel like you didn’t have the right to move on. That you shouldn’t be with someone who has become such a huge part of your heart, when in her eyes, she always thought you and Luca would get back together.”
“She didn’t say that—” I tried to argue, but he interrupted me.
“Not to you, but it was what she told us. But when you said yes to Remington, she realized she was wrong and wanted to try to talk you out of it.” He reached out and caught my hand. “During the whole thing, she said she was disappointed in us for not having taught you the power of forgiveness, because if we had, you would have already been back with Luca. Your mom said a few things about Layla’s own parenting skills, and things got a little out of hand. So, yes, Emmie did have to break things up.”
I looked at Mom in surprise. She pressed her lips together and refused to meet my gaze. As if she were embarrassed about the whole thing. I was just surprised she’d gotten into what sounded like a physical fight with anyone, least of all Aunt Layla. My mom was too sweet, too gentle. I’d rarely even heard her raise her voice over the years, let alone come to blows with someon
e. Aunt Dallas, sure. Shaw was just like her mother, and I knew what kind of temper my godmother had. But I just couldn’t picture Mom in a fight.
I heard the guest bathroom door opening down the hall. “We’ll talk about this later,” I told them, not wanting to cause Remington more stress when he was already in pain. “But for now, could you please not fight with anyone else?”
“Like I said, it’s over and done with,” Mom assured me. “I don’t want to discuss it anymore. Your happiness is all I want to talk about.”
Remington came back into the living room, and I wondered if he’d had to take his pain medication. But he only gave me a quick kiss on the lips as he sat down beside me. “How about we give them their surprise now?” he suggested.
I bit my lip and nodded, giving in because I didn’t know if he would be able to make it through dinner without needing to go home.
It was then I realized maybe this was a big reason why he’d hired Jenner. In case we were ever out and he suddenly became incapacitated. Tears filled my eyes, but I closed them tight for a moment until the sting faded and then picked up the two gift bags. They were simple white bags with purple tissue paper sticking out of the top. I handed the correct bag to each of them and then sat back down beside Remington.
Dad lifted his and shook it beside his ear. When nothing rattled, I grinned. “Open them at the same time,” I instructed.
Dad jerked the tissue paper out of his bag then reached in, pulling out the tiny black T-shirt. Mom did the same, pulling out the picture I’d found at a maternity shop Shaw had discovered online.
My dad frowned as he read what was printed on the shirt. “My grandpa rocks harder than yours!”
Beside him, Mom’s eyes were glued to the picture of a silhouette of a mother hugging her adult daughter with a yellow heart where the mother’s heart was and a tiny yellow dot on the daughter’s stomach. Under the image, it read, “You carried me in your heart even when my momma was in your tummy.”
Mom lifted her eyes and looked at Dad, who was looking back at her, their eyes sparkling with tears. “Shane,” she breathed. “She’s pregnant.”
“Yeah,” he choked out, and he glanced at me as tears filled his eyes. “Our little girl is having a baby.”
Mom suddenly screamed and jumped up. “You’re pregnant!” She grabbed my hands, pulling me to my feet, and started dancing around with me, making Remington laugh. “I’m going to be a grandmother!”
All the bouncing around made me dizzy, and I clung to her as the room began to spin. “Oh no,” I whimpered and bent in half as lunch tried to make a comeback.
Suddenly, I was in Remington’s arms, and moments later, I was in the bathroom, leaning over the toilet. I heard Mom from the doorway, saying how sorry she was and how morning sickness had sucked so badly for her when she was pregnant with me.
Remington rubbed my back as I emptied my stomach, using his free hand to hold back my hair so I didn’t get anything in it.
“Who has morning sickness?” I heard Mason ask as he and Oscar joined Mom and Dad in the guest bathroom doorway. “Vi, you’re pregnant?” my brother yelled, and I groaned as I began to dry heave.
It was only my first taste of morning sickness, but I hoped it was the last.
Chapter 41
Violet
The morning sickness stuck around for a while. By Sunday, I was exhausted from all the vomiting and stayed in bed with Krush snuggled beside me while Remington got up for a run.
But by dinnertime, I was feeling better, and my stomach growled from emptiness. I’d only been attempting to keep fluids down, and so far that day I’d accomplished that small feat, but now I was starving.
Krush lifted his head when I climbed out of bed, but when I reached for my robe to cover my sleep shirt and panties, he huffed and lay back down. He loved to sleep, especially in our bed with me cuddled beside him, but apparently he wasn’t ready to end his nap yet.
I stroked his head and then went in search of Remington.
I heard the television on in the living room and walked in to find a football game playing on the huge flat screen that took up most of the far wall. Remington was sound asleep on the couch, an ice pack on his head and his pain medication bottle open on the coffee table in front of him along with a protein drink.
My heart clenched looking down at him like that. He’d been taking more and more of those damn pain pills lately, and every time I saw that bottle, I died a little inside. They reminded me that we were on borrowed time and I could lose my husband at any moment.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I grabbed the folded blanket on the plush chair where I loved to read and covered Remington up. Tucking it around him, I bent and kissed him, but he didn’t even stir. Pulling the long-melted pack from his forehead, I started to leave to put it back in the freezer when something the game announcer said caught my attention.
“Thornton is playing the worst game of his rookie year tonight,” the man said, and I turned to see what he was talking about. He kept talking, showing a replay in the bottom corner of the screen, but I tuned out his words as I watched what was currently going on in the live game.
Tennessee’s defense was on the field, and the cameras seemed to be more focused on Luca than the offense, which was only twenty-two yards from scoring. When the quarterback got the ball, he threw it, his running back going straight past Luca with ease and catching the ball in the end zone.
But as the ball touched the guy’s hands, Luca hit him from behind. It was an ugly hit, and I watched as the other guy curled up like he was in agony once Luca got off him.
Gasping at what a dirty hit it was, I threw the melted ice pack at the screen. “What the hell are you doing?” I whisper-shouted. “Fuck, Luca. Fuck.”
I stood there watching the replay, and I groaned when the refs called a personal foul on Luca, while the announcers both wondered if he’d get fined.
“You idiot,” I muttered. “Are you trying to ruin your career? Huh?”
A commercial break started, but I didn’t move from where I was standing. I couldn’t even think about not watching as the game came back on and Luca’s offense took the field. They didn’t score a touchdown, but they did kick a field goal, which put the score at 17-14, with Tennessee in the lead. There was only enough time for the other team to try to score again, but as long as the defense held strong, Luca’s team would win.
But as I watched, I could tell Luca’s head wasn’t in the game. He wasn’t focused on keeping the offense back. No, he was more concerned about dishing out as much pain to whoever got in his way as possible.
As another guy went down, I groaned loudly, causing Remington to stir. Biting my lip, I glanced at him, making sure he was still sleeping before turning my gaze back on the TV. “No,” I hissed. “Stop it right now, Luca. You can’t keep acting like this.”
Of course, he didn’t hear me, and the other team scored with only five seconds left to go.
“You had this, you idiot. You had it, and you let them get through. Why, Luca?” Pissed at him, I started pacing in front of the screen, talking to myself as if the dumbass were sitting there and could hear me. “This is not how you play the game. You are supposed to be focused. What the hell is wrong with you? Ugh, we both know you’re better than this.”
“Violet?” Remington called out, sounding confused.
I inhaled deeply and turned to smile at him as he sat up on the couch. “Hey,” I greeted softly.
“Who are you talking to?” He glanced at the screen, his brows pulling together because the game was over and had gone straight to another round of commercials.
“Just myself,” I told him. “Didn’t you know you married an insane woman?”
His lips quirked up at that. “Insanely hot.”
I grabbed the remote and turned off the television before dropping down beside him and cuddling into him. “I’m hungry. Feel like eating?”
Remington’s e
yes lit up. “You want to eat?” I nodded, and my stomach growled, reinforcing my answer and making him laugh. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make it for you.”
“French fries and salted caramel sauce,” I said, licking my lips at the thought.
He made a face at the combination. “Is this a pregnancy craving kind of thing?”
“I want sweet and salty,” I said with a shrug. “And hot wings. I want some hot wings so badly right now. And strawberry jam with toast.”
“I think I can manage the toast, but I’ll order the other stuff.” He brushed his lips over my brow and stood. “Sit tight. I’ll feed you and our love bug as quickly as possible.”
“Love Bug,” I murmured, touching my stomach. “I love that little nickname. Until we find out what we’re having, let’s call the baby that.”
Remington picked up his phone to order our dinner. “You got it, my love.” He flipped through the app he was on. “What else would you like?”
“Just the fries, wings, and toast,” I assured him as I pulled the blanket over my lap. My gaze fell on the open medication bottle. “Remi, is your head still hurting?”
“I’m good,” he said, putting his phone away and dropping down beside me. “Food will be here in half an hour. Do you want the toast now or with your wings?”
“You’ve had to take your pain pills three days in a row.”
He pulled me onto his lap and touched his lips to my cheek, then moved down to my neck, making me shiver. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Toast now, or with the wings?”
“With the wings,” I murmured, pressing my head into his chest to hide my tears. Because I knew he wasn’t telling me the truth. He wasn’t fine. He was getting worse, and I was losing him.
--
Remington woke me the next morning with a kiss and to tell me he had something he had to take care of. He said it was for work and that he had to fly out, but he would be back no later than the next morning.
The sudden trip confused me because he’d turned all his business responsibilities over to his CEOs, but he was gone before I could get a straight answer out of him. Unable to sleep because I was worried something was wrong with him and he wasn’t telling me, I got up and started my day.
Loving Violet Page 27
