Rendezvous

by Lane, Arie

  Bentley is stunned as she looks between us, before focusing again on me. “What is he talking about? What’s this about having the wedding before she’s born? We never talked about this. Why am I just now hearing this? Holy shit…we’ve been engaged a few hours and you and my father are already planning out my wedding without me!” Bentley yells.

  Well shit, this is not how I wanted this to go. I try backtracking, “Bentley, it’s not like that. I was just hoping that we could get married before she’s born. I’d like you to have my name, both of you have my name by then.”

  I know from the look on her face she isn’t buying it. She then looks to Marco and asks, “What else have you two been deciding behind my back? Do you have the guest list all worked out as well? Are you planning a big wedding or a small one?”

  I fucking pray that he will just shut his mouth. I know whatever he says I’ll be paying for later. He hasn’t been around to learn her mood swings and she is about to cross over into hostile territory. He doesn’t hold his tongue though.

  “It’s customary to have a large wedding. You have much family and as Tristan is learning, he has quite a few as well. I think it’s only right that they should all be there to celebrate.”

  It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion. She looks like she’s ready to tear us both apart. “I have no say in this?” she fumes. “Well if you two have it all worked the fuck out, then why don’t you marry each other. Since obviously what I want doesn’t fucking matter. While I’m sure Tristan would want his family there, you’re mistaken if thinking I want a bunch of people I’ve never met at my wedding. Has it occurred to you that in your traditional wedding, there are things that I just don’t have?”

  I attempt to calm her down even though I know it’s useless. “Baby, nothing is set in stone. It would be nice to have a traditional wedding and have everyone there. You can’t fault your father for wanting that for you.”

  I know in hindsight, I royally fucked up as she stands up at the table.

  Her agitation is evident as she speaks. “So that’s it then, you two have it all fucking planned out. How can you not fucking understand!” she shouts. “You have people who you know and love who would stand by your side. I have a father I barely know, and people who can’t even discern between employee and friend. I don’t have bridesmaids, or a flower girl, I don’t have a ring bearer. What I have is a best friend with impeccable taste but who would look scary as hell if I dressed him in drag. If this is really what you think I would want then you don’t know me at all,” she finishes before storming out of the restaurant.

  I sigh as I get up from the table, “Well that didn’t go as planned. I’ll go talk to her,” I say before chasing after her.

  I hadn’t thought about how much not having those things around her would bother her. When I think about it though, of course she’s right, who does she really have? She has a man she met less than a year ago, a best friend who admittedly would be scary as fuck in a dress, and me. That’s all she really has. Whereas, I have Aggie and Cage, and lots of family that I’m just getting back in touch with, but would love to be by my side.

  I’ve gotten used to her emotional roller-coasters and fully expect to find her crying. To say I’m wrong is an understatement. She is fuming as she paces back and forth. I listen as the expletives roll off her tongue. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her pissed off like this. I try approaching her carefully, but if I’m being honest, I know no matter what, someone is walking away tonight with more than a bruised ego. I figure it’s better me than Marco, and at least that way I can minimize any damage she does to herself.

  She doesn’t notice me as I walk up to her and as I say her name she turns swinging. I’m completely caught off guard as she connects hard with my jaw, the pain that radiates through it has my eyes watering.

  “You selfish fucking son of a bitch. How dare you?” she hollers as she slams another fist into my stomach. “You know this isn’t only about you, asshole. Did you even consider what I’d want?” she continues before driving the heel of her foot right below my knee. I drop to the ground and deflect the kick she aims at my balls. “Fucking jerk off, I hope you catch some unknown fucking disease and your balls turn green and fall off, you cock sucking bastard,” she wails before trying to walk away.

  I jump up faster than I should have and try to fight the wave of nausea rolling over me as I grab for her.

  “Don’t fucking touch me! You don’t get to fucking touch me. You don’t get to try and decide the way my life is going to play out without me, then think you have any right to come near me. It doesn’t fucking work that way, dickhead.”

  I’m pissed. I’m not sure if it’s at her or her father at the moment, but I take it out on her. “Get the fuck over it, Bentley. It wasn’t set in fucking stone. Okay, yes I suggested it to your father. Yes, I did it behind your back. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to discuss it with you first. Of course, you have a say in how big the wedding is!” I scream.

  “Oh is that so? She mocks. “So if I tell you I don’t want anyone there, then what, Tristan? What if I don’t want to look like a fucking blimp on my wedding day, how about that? Hmm...What then, Tristan?”

  Shit… That I did not see coming. I truly had no intention of her not being a married woman when she brought our baby into the world. It was the one thing on which I wasn’t compromising.

  Still holding onto her arm, I lower my voice. “We’re going to talk about this Bentley, one way or another.”

  She stares directly at me, and lowers her voice in a menacing tone, “What the fuck is there to talk about? According to you and my father, the only thing I’m supposed to do is show up and say I do. Well right now, let me tell you something…I don’t. All of this talk about us having your name…we don’t need your fucking name. Now let me fucking go before I make sure you never get the chance to even try giving this baby a sibling.”

  By that time everyone is outside and they have a front row seat to what transpires. I watch Bentley get into Dante’s car and speed off. Turning around, I kick the tire on my car, muttering under my breath, Happy fucking birthday, Tristan.”

  How I could manage to have everything turn from perfect into a fucking nightmare within a matter of minutes is anyone’s best guess. I swear it’s like I really do have a talent for pissing her the fuck off, although right now, I’m not copping to this shit at all. I don’t know what the fuck Marco is playing at, but he was out of line. Never once in all of our talks did I say anything about a wedding size. Sure I wanted it, but nothing was written it in stone.

  I say good night to everyone and head back to Bentley’s house. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find myself locked the fuck out. You’d think after all of these months, I’d have gotten a set of keys made, but I didn’t. I bang on the door for a few minutes and try the doorbell a couple of times but she never comes down to answer. I guess that’s her way of telling me my ass will be getting acquainted with the dog house.

  Bentley

  I’m so infuriated with Tristan and my father’s ridiculous plans for my future. I’m like one of those unlucky bitches from the Middle Ages who are forced into marriage. The only thing missing is my damn dowry, although if you think about it, I already have my father’s house and money, so I guess that would qualify. Not that it fucking matters. No one is deciding my life for me. I spent too many damn years fighting for a life of my own that no one is dictating what I will or won’t be doing. I will never again have someone force me to accept their decisions. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. I don’t need some asshole telling me what to do and when to do it. I refuse to fucking allow it.

  When I get home from that crackpot dinner, my body is so tense I can barely make it up the steps. I think for the first time since I was six, I turn the heat up on the water. I sit in the middle of the shower floor and just let it pulse down on me from every direction. I don’t know how long I stay in that shower, but I know there isn
’t even an ounce of warm water by the time I get out.

  I wake up much more relaxed than when I went to bed, even though I wake up alone. After throwing on an oversized t-shirt and some flannel pants, I head downstairs. I told Maddie the night before that she didn’t need to come in this morning so I have the house to myself. I’m unsure where Tristan is, and honestly I don’t care right now. I’m sure he and my father are off conspiring against me some more.

  I’m still fucking shocked that either of them would think that stunt they tried to pull was a good idea. I bet had he conferred with Aggie, she’d have warned him trying that shit would get him his ass kicked. It wasn’t his ass that I kicked though. The memory of punching Tristan in the face brings back the throbbing pain in my hand. Fuck, that man’s face his hard.

  Come to think of it, the only thing not hard on him is his dick, well unless I’m riding it. I giggle out loud as the thought occurs to me. I never thought I would like sex after what happened to me, let alone enjoy it. I’m lost in a sea of my own thoughts and don’t hear the knocking on the front door. By the time I reach it, the knocking has turned into a pounding that is growing louder and harder.

  I pull the door open, intent on bitching out whomever is on the other side, but before I have the chance I’m being backed into the wall behind me, and Tristan has taken full possession of my mouth. It’s easy to get lost in his kiss, and I probably would have stayed like that all day if I wasn’t pissed off at him.

  Pushing him off of me is no easy task. I move past him to shut the door he left open and when I turn to face him, I see something that almost frightens me. He has this wild look to him, like an animal left to fend for itself. He looks feral, and as he stalks back to where I’m standing, my fight or flight response kicked in.

  Tristan looks dangerous. Of course the brooding attitude, and gigantic stature doesn’t help that any, nor does the five o’clock shadow edging around his face. He reaches out for me, and I twist to try and avoid him. I intend on running away, but that’s pretty fucking difficult when you have a bowling ball for a stomach. He has his hands wrapped around my torso before I manage to get two feet away. I’m wiggling to try and break free, when his voice stops me in my tracks. It’s low and gravely, intimidating and dominant. It’s sexy as fuck and damn if it doesn’t go straight to my core. I try to press my legs together to suppress the reaction he causes within me.

  “Don’t move, don’t run from me Bentley, just don’t,” he warns as he buries his nose into my neck.

  I don’t move. I’m barely even breathing as his hands roamed across my body. He’s peppering kisses against my neck and shoulder, and even though my mind is saying one thing, my body is reveling in the attention. I hate how much I fucking want him. Actually, that’s a complete lie, and no matter how much I tell myself it, I know I’ll never believe it.

  I moan as he lightly pinches my nipple through my shirt, the sensitivity causing delicious sensations to run down my spine. He is edging me forward as he continues his sensual assault. By the time we reach the couch, my panties are drenched from the low rumbling of his voice and precise execution of his touches.

  I don’t care how awkward our lovemaking ends up being, and it doesn’t matter that I have to adjust my position numerous times because of my baby bump. What matters is that somehow in that moment he manages to dig himself even deeper inside of me, leaving an imprint on my heart and soul as we lay there on the couch basking in the fervent afterglow.

  “Are you ready to talk to me now?” he asks with his lips against my skin.

  I let out a heavy sigh. I really don’t want to talk about this. It would be next to impossible to get him to see my position. Instead of dismissing his need for discussion, I stay still with him wrapped around me as he pleads his case.

  “I know you don’t want all flowers and frills, baby. I get that. I understand why you don’t want a big wedding, and that’s okay too. Just work with me here. This is your day, and I know how it’s supposed to be special and perfect, and I want to give you that, Bentley. If you let me, I promise it will be perfect. All I ask is that you agree to do it before the she’s born,” he presses.

  “So you still want to take the details out of my hands? You expect me to just go along with whatever you plan? How is that fair, Tristan? You’re telling me I have a say, but the fact is I don’t. You’re going to do this behind my back and I’m just supposed to take your word for it that you aren’t going to do exactly what you planned.”

  “If I do you wrong by this, then you can walk away. You can leave me standing at that altar looking like a fucking moron. We’ll do this how you want. No church, out in the open and you call the shots. I just need for you to trust me. I’m not asking you to decide right this second. The baby won’t be here for another four months. We have some time.”

  I don’t have any reason not to trust him, other than him making plans behind my back. I’m still really pissed off about that. Aside from that, he’s always done everything with the best intentions, and he’s right, we have time. It’s not like she’s coming tomorrow, but he’s a complete idiot if he actually believes that I would walk down the aisle just to tell him to go fuck himself.

  He and I both knew I’d never be capable if that, but I would never forget if he betrayed my trust and that would mar any future we’ll ever have. I think about what he is really asking of me, and give him my answer. “Fine, we’ll do this your way. But I’m telling you now, Tristan, if you go against my wishes in any way I will never forgive you. Understand that if you undermine me on this, it will set a precedent in how the remainder of our relationship will be,” I warn, as I lay my head back against him.

  “Thank you,” he replies, letting out a heavy sigh. “You won’t be disappointed baby, I swear it.”

  Chapter 24

  Tristan

  I enlist Marco and Jacob’s help. I need this day to be perfect, and just as Rome wasn’t built in a day, neither is putting together the perfect wedding. I know the last thing Bentley wants to do is bounce from boutique to boutique trying on unflattering, poufy, way too frilly wedding dresses. So instead, Marco is hiring Raphael to find the perfect dress that will accommodate her growing belly.

  Dante, who moonlighted as an interior designer, is in charge of the wedding decorations. He is the only person I trust to not fuck it up, since I have no doubt if she is pissed on her wedding day that I’ll never live it down. Maddie has offered up the services of herself and her uncle who has flown in to visit. I learn that he is some famous chef in France and Marco poached Maddie from his restaurant when she was an apprentice under him. They are good friends so there isn’t any animosity, which means I don’t have to worry about the reception food.

  Aggie and Mrs. Anders are in charge of the wedding cake. The thought of even eating cake makes Bentley sick, so it’s better she stay away from the bakeries. Andy asked if she could help, and Jacob vouched for her, so she’s designing and putting together the wedding favors. I have no idea what the hell they are so I’m just going with it.

  I’m planning the wedding for two weeks before she’s due. I know I’m pushing my luck, but I still don’t have my special guest guaranteed. I’m relying on Jacob to come through for me there. Everything except that is pulling together nicely until Bentley receives the news from the doctor that she will be spending her last two months on bed rest.

  She has been fine with the things happening around her and without her up until that point since she has overseen some of the smaller details. Now that she is pretty much confined to a bed, the tension around her is unbearable. I hate seeing her so miserable.

  I have been out the entire day and want nothing more than to crawl up beside her and spend some quality time with her in my arms. The baby has been kicking the shit out of her whenever she tries to sleep and she spends the majority of the night tossing around sleeplessly. I don’t find her in the bedroom though, and that scares the shit out of me. The shower isn’t running so I don’t bothe
r checking the bathroom. I tear through every room in the house looking for her, I’m about to start calling people when I cross the bathroom and find her.

  There Bentley is, lying in the tub, asleep. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m smiling from ear to ear at the sight. It makes my fucking heart soar to see her strength shine through as she lets go of her fears. She looks so damn peaceful. I run a hand through the water and find it cold. I don’t want to wake her so I try quietly to let some of the water out while adding in more hot water. She wakes abruptly anyway, and decides since her skin is shriveled like a prune that she’d rather dry off and lay back down in bed.

  I get into the bed and pull her against me so we’re spooning. I should leave it alone, but instead as I rub her shoulder I ask, “So when did that happen? How did that happen?”

  She lets out a soft sigh before answering me. “I’ve been working at it for months. I’ve been seeing someone a couple of times a week, and she’s helping me work through the ordeals I suffered. I’ve been taking baby steps. It started out with just my ankles in the water, then I worked up to my knees, then thighs, waist, until finally I could sit in the tub without panicking. I started the temperature the same way with room temperature water, and gradually added hot water over time.”

  I’m so fucking proud of her. I’d be a fool to think it’s just a tub. This is a huge fucking deal. She’s no longer ruled by her fears, and that changes the dynamics greatly for our future. I hope she is doing this for herself, and not for me and the baby. She’s changing into the person she thinks she needs to be to love our daughter. She doesn’t realize though that she is already that woman.

  “I doubt you need to hear it from me, but I’m so damn proud of you, Spitfire. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, Baby, and I thank every star that you’re mine.”

  She stifles a laugh, “I love you too, Tristan, even though you’re highly exaggerating the situation. Thank you though,” she says through a yawn.