Griffin, his shoulder-length brown hair tousled from the wind, was all smiles when he walked into the townhouse we shared – which was conveniently located next door to the one Aidan and Jerry shared – until he realized I was already in my fuzzy pajamas and thick socks.
“Perhaps I should call you the dark shadow over my heart today judging by that expression on your face, huh?” Griffin switched gears smoothly, shrugging out of his coat and hanging it in the hallway before grabbing the one I discarded on the chair at the edge of the living room an hour before and putting it away. “I believe we talked about you picking up after yourself, didn’t we?”
I slanted my eyes so he could see I was agitated and held up my hands in front of the gas fireplace. “I hate winter.”
“I can see you’re in a wonderful mood.” Griffin dropped a kiss on the top of my head before sitting next to me on the couch. “Do you want to tell me about it?”
We’d been together for months. I was comfortable sharing my feelings – or whatever dumb chick stuff I was supposed to do to make the relationship thrive – but I didn’t think he’d take the admission that the idea of planning a wedding, of flipping through endless magazines and giggling over fabrics with Jerry, filled me with a lump of sick fear in the pit of my stomach, so I decided to be evasive.
“I made the mistake of talking to one of my charges today and it was a nightmare,” I said, offering a petulant pout for his benefit. “She wouldn’t shut up, and kept demanding to see the ‘man in charge,’ and I was almost late for my third job. Plus, the lady at the doughnut place on Main Street did not salt her front walk, and I fell.”
“My poor baby.” Griffin lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to the soft skin along the inside of my wrist. “At least you got a doughnut, right?”
“I did, but don’t tell Jerry. If he finds out I went to another bakery he’ll have a fit.”
“Why did you go to another bakery?”
I went to another bakery because I didn’t want to listen to Jerry gush about wedding plans. There was no way I could say that to Griffin, though, so I lied. “I wanted one of those chocolate cake doughnuts with sprinkles, and Jerry’s sprinkles bug me.”
“Oh, well, as long as you have a good reason.” Griffin’s hands were cold as he pressed them to my neck.
“Brr.” I made a face. “That’s another reason I hate winter. Don’t you have gloves?”
“I do, but I forgot them on my desk.”
“Well, remember them next time.” I knew I was being unreasonable. It wasn’t Griffin’s fault that I was the worst girl in the history of girls and had no idea how to turn myself into a better bride-to-be. He wouldn’t understand, and could very well get hurt if I wasn’t careful. I wasn’t lying when I told Serafina he was perfect. He was so perfect I couldn’t figure out what he was doing with me. I generally have high self-esteem, so I wasn’t sure what to make of my newfound self-loathing.
Griffin, ever calm, arched an eyebrow. I swear it mocked me. “Aisling, do you want to tell me what’s really bothering you?”
I pasted an innocent expression on my face. “Nothing is bothering me. My life is perfect.” I held up the ring he gave me for proof. “See.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve known you long enough to realize you’re lying,” Griffin countered. “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s wrong. And before you think of another lie I won’t believe, remember that I love you and we promised to tell one another the truth. There’s nothing you can tell me that I won’t understand.”
If I were a betting person I’d lay some heavy odds against exactly that. “I’m fine.”
Griffin didn’t look convinced. He stared at me long and hard, as if he was drilling for oil in my soul. Finally he exhaled heavily and shook his head. “Fine. What do you want for dinner?”
That’s it? That couldn’t be it. He never lets me slide that easily when he knows I’m being less than honest. Notice I didn’t say “lying.” I wasn’t technically lying. I was merely skirting the truth. “I can eat anything.”
“Yeah, we both know that’s not true,” Griffin said. “I’d rather not suggest Thai, have you agree to it, and then be forced to watch you make faces while you’re eating Pad Thai. What do you want?”
I wanted to curl up on his lap, put all the wedding decisions in his hands so he’d get exactly what he wanted, and weep. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but that’s what I wanted. “Thai is fine.”
Griffin narrowed his eyes. “Aisling, you’re really pushing it. If you think I can’t tell something is wrong you’re deluding yourself. You’re not fooling me, no matter how much you think you are. It’s starting to get ridiculous.”
Starting? Where had he been the past six weeks? “I’m … .”
“If you say ‘fine’ we’re going to have a fight. Now, I don’t want a fight because it’s cold and I’d prefer eating and cuddling in front of the fire all night. I will fight if it comes to it, though.”
Oh, geez. He was going to make me say it.
“Are you having second thoughts about marrying me?” Griffin was calm when he asked the question, but I didn’t miss the exaggerated way he swallowed as he waited for an answer.
“No,” I replied hurriedly, fear crowding my heart. “I want to marry you. It’s just … .”
“What?”
“I don’t know how to plan a wedding. I think I might be missing the girl gene that’s supposed to know how to handle that. I’m pretty sure my chick pod is defective.”
I expected an explosion after I blurted out the words, but Griffin’s expression softened.
“Oh.” Instead of yelling — or even giving me that disappointed look that he rarely whips out because he reserves it for special occasions — Griffin slipped his arm around my waist and tugged me so I was practically on his lap. “I see.”
He was apparently feeling succinct. “Griffin … .”
“It’s okay.” Griffin pressed a kiss to my cheek and rearranged us so we could lie comfortably on the couch, my head on his chest. He grabbed the afghan from the back of the couch and placed it over us. “Why didn’t you tell me this was bothering you?”
“Because I can’t tell you that.”
“Why not? Just two days ago you told me that you were convinced the old guy who lives in the end unit was staring through the sliding glass doors because he wanted to see you naked.”
“I haven’t been proven wrong on that.”
“He’s mostly blind. He even has a service dog.”
“That’s why he has to get so close.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s also gay,” Griffin said.
“Then perhaps he was looking at you instead of me.” My voice hopped as my irrational anger came out to play.
“Calm down.” Griffin stroked the back of my head, organizing my long dark hair – which was shot through with streaks of white because I wanted to look different from my brothers – and brushed his lips against my forehead. “You need to tell me these things so I can help you before I overreact to your overreaction and my head goes to a weird place.”
I tilted my chin so my eyes locked with his. “Where did your head go?”
“I was pretty sure you thought you made a mistake when you agreed to marry me and were trying to find a graceful way out of it,” Griffin replied. “I thought maybe you were going to break my heart.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m serious. I was a little worried. You’ve been acting like a nutball the past two weeks.”
I let loose a groan. “That’s because I don’t know what to do. Am I supposed to talk to my father about money? Are we supposed to pay for it? Am I supposed to pay for it?”
“I don’t know.” Griffin chose his words carefully. “What do you want?”
“I want you to get everything you want for a change.”
“Oh, baby … .” Griffin’s lips curved. “You don’t have to kill yourself with preparations. We both need to get what we want ou
t of this. It’s not about one person.”
“How do we do that?”
“Well, for starters, we need to talk about things,” Griffin replied. “What kind of wedding do you want?”
“Honestly? I want to get naked on the beach and have it just be the two of us.”
“I could live with that.”
“But my father can’t. Jerry can’t. And my brothers? No matter how big and macho they pretend to be, they’d kill you if we slipped off and eloped.”
“Good point.” Griffin seemed more relaxed now that he knew what was really bothering me. I internally kicked myself for making him worry. That was the last thing I wanted. In fact, that was the thing I’d been working so hard to make sure didn’t happen. “Do you want a big or small wedding?”
I answered immediately. “Small.”
“We agree there. See, we’re already rolling. Do you want to get married in a church?”
I tried to picture myself walking down an aisle, a steely-eyed priest staring me down as if he knew all of the dirty things Griffin and I did on a daily basis as nuns readied rulers to crack across my knuckles for untold transgressions. Yeah, in my fantasy every religion overlaps in weird and innovative ways. The answer to that was a big, fat no. I had no idea what Griffin wanted, though. “Do you?”
“I asked you first.”
“Yeah, but … I can’t make a decision until I know what you want,” I said. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I keep having these panic attack nightmares where you show up for the wedding and then walk out because you didn’t get what you wanted.”
“Aisling, all I want is you.”
“Then it seems like you’re getting the short end of the stick. Although, you know what? I’ve never understood what that saying means. If I were getting the short end of the stick it would be something to cry about. From your perspective, I’d think you’d want to avoid the stick at all costs.”
Griffin barked out a laugh, his entire body shaking. “Good grief. Is it any wonder that I love you the way I do? How could I be getting the short end of anything as long as I get to keep you for the rest of our lives?”
He made it sound so easy. I was dumbfounded by his relaxed nature. “Aren’t you worried at all that I’m going to screw this up?”
“No. I’m worried you’re going to make yourself sick over certain things, because that’s your way. But I’m not worried you’re going to ruin anything. I really wish you’d stop worrying about stuff like this.”
I tilted my head to the side, considering. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to tell you what I want until I know what you want.”
“I don’t like that idea, because, given your mood, I can already tell that you’re going to give me whatever I want no matter if you want something else or not.” Griffin fell silent, his hand busy as it rubbed my back. “I have an idea.”
Griffin left me on the couch and shuffled into the kitchen, returning with a notebook and two pens. He started writing – concentrating for a long time – and then finally ripped off the sheet of paper he scrawled across and placed it on the coffee table.
“Can you think of any other immediate questions we need to tackle?”
I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, so I peered around his shoulder and read the words. It was a list of questions regarding the wedding, including queries on venue, colors and food choices. “I’m not sure what we’re doing.”
Griffin ripped off another sheet of paper and handed it to me before carrying his notebook to the chair on the other side of the table and settling. “We’re going to write the answers to the questions and then compare answers. This way we won’t sway one another.”
“What if we don’t agree?”
“Then we’ll talk about it and come to a compromise,” Griffin replied. “I am not going to let you mold this entire wedding into what you think I want. This is supposed to be a beautiful day for both of us.”
I studied the questions for a moment. I hated to admit it – mostly because it wasn’t my idea – but it made sense. “Are you sure about this? We can do whatever you want.”
“I’m sure that’s the last thing I want,” Griffin said. “Now, write down your answers. When we’re done, we’ll compare and talk about our choices. Whenever we have things to decide for the wedding, this is what we’ll do.”
It sounded rational. Er, well, kind of. “It’s like a really important test that I haven’t studied for,” I muttered, clicking the pen so I could write. “I’m going to need food after this, just so you know. I’m already feeling weak.”
“Read the last question,” Griffin ordered, his eyes never drifting from his answers.
I did as he instructed, smirking when I saw it. “Oh, well … .”
“Focus on your answers,” Griffin ordered. “I want to see where we land. We can’t move forward until we see how far apart we are.”
I exhaled heavily through my nose and then focused on the questions, losing myself in my answers once I realized that no matter how hard I craned my neck I couldn’t see what Griffin wrote. Once I was done, I shifted my eyes to Griffin. He sat quietly, his eyes expectant, and flashed a smile when he saw I had finished.
“Ready?”
I nodded.
Griffin moved over to the couch and sat beside me, collecting my paper and imitating a professor as he started. “Okay, so we both would prefer an outdoor wedding. No church.”
I couldn’t hide my relief. “Really?”
“You’re really a bundle of nerves about this, aren’t you?” Griffin was amused. “I’ll rub you down later to relax you.”
That sounded nice.
“We both want small weddings, with prime rib and chicken. I suggested adding salmon and you suggested adding lobster. If you want to spring for lobster, I think we’ll have to bring your father in on this.”
I pursed my lips. “Aren’t I too old to expect my father to pay for a wedding?”
Griffin shook his head. “I think you’ll hurt his feelings if you don’t. It’s up to you, though.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Good.” Griffin smacked a quick kiss against my lips. “We both said summer for a wedding period, which is good. And as for flowers, you wrote lilies and I wrote ‘Whatever you want.’”
I knitted my eyebrows. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know ‘Whatever you want’ was an option.”
“Yes, well, I think flowers should be your choice,” Griffin said. “I don’t know flowers, and you’ll be the one carrying a bouquet.”
He had a point. “What about people to stand up with us?”
“What about it?”
“I don’t have any female friends.”
“Oh.” Griffin snorted. “You really don’t. It’s kind of sad. You could have Jerry stand up for you.”
“I can?” The suggestion was such a relief that I almost melted into a pool of goo on his lap. “You’d be okay with that?”
“Of course I would.” Griffin tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “He’s your best friend. It wouldn’t be right if he wasn’t up there with you.”
“But how will that work? Aren’t we supposed to have even numbers of ushers and stuff?”
“Aisling, don’t let this derail you,” Griffin comforted. “We’ll figure it out. I don’t want you tying yourself in knots over this. Look at these lists.” He shook them for emphasis. “They’re mostly the same. You were freaking yourself out about nothing.”
That was rich, coming from him. “You were freaking yourself out, too.”
“Not nearly as much as you were.”
“Whatever.” I rested my head on his shoulder. Despite everything, I really did feel much better. “I’m glad we did this. I feel … more relaxed.”
“I do, too.” Griffin rested his cheek against my forehead. “We even said the same thing for dinner.”
“We did? You want Middle Eastern food, too?”
“I do.”
“Are you just
saying that because you figured I wanted Middle Eastern food?”
“Not even close,” Griffin replied. “I have a hankering for some hummus.”
I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing, love swamping me for a moment when his eyes lit with amusement. “Thank you.”
“Oh, Aisling, don’t thank me.” Griffin shifted the sheets of paper to the table and tugged me to him so he could hug me. “I get to marry you. Shouldn’t that be thanks enough?”
“I know you have hearts in your eyes and stuff, but I’m still going to be me when we get married,” I pointed out. “I’m difficult.”
“Oh, baby, you idle at difficult.” Griffin grinned when I pinched his flank. “Everything will be okay. You need to talk to me about these things before you get yourself worked up. It affects both of us.”
He was right. I opened my mouth to tell him just that when the front door of the condo flew open and Jerry breezed in. He didn’t shut the door behind him or offer up a greeting. Instead, he planted his hands on his hips and glared at me.
“You’ve been avoiding my calls all day, Bug, and I’ve had it,” Jerry said. “I happen to know you were downtown and bought a doughnut from Mrs. Field’s store this afternoon. Three different people saw you, and one said you had chocolate breath.”
Griffin buried his face in my shoulder so Jerry wouldn’t catch him laughing.
“I’m not going to yell at you for stress eating,” Jerry continued. “You’re going to be a bride. That’s expected. We’ll talk about diet options after the weekend.”
I stilled. “I am not going on a diet.”
“I said we’d talk about it later,” Jerry barked. “As for the rest, I’m not going to take it personally. I think you’re overwhelmed.”
“I was overwhelmed, but Griffin and I talked about it,” I said. “We’ve already made some decisions.”
“Great. Good. Outstanding.” Jerry waved his hands, impatient. “I think we need to start with the obvious purchase and go from there.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. “What?”
“Your dress!” Jerry rolled his eyes. “The dress is the centerpiece of the wedding. We have to pick that first.”
Grim Rising (Aisling Grimlock Book 7) Page 3
