The Cowboy's City Girl - An Enemies To Lovers Romance

by Emerson Rose

  “Come, Imani; let me take those shoes off of you.” Latoya gives me a questioning look, I just shrug and follow Marcus to the long, elegantly lain table covered with low arrangements of, what else, lavender and cream colored roses. My chair is pulled out and everyone returns to their seats. There are two across from me that are unoccupied and I wonder who else is coming but my attention quickly returns to Marcus as he moves my chair to face him and kneels down in front of me. The act of kneeling is simple, and for most no additional meaning would be linked to it. He is simply unstrapping my shoes to make me more comfortable but in my heart it feels like it is so much more, the adoration in his touch and the reverence he pays while kneeling at my feet feels like I’m being worshiped, cared for, loved on the deepest level possible.

  I watch as he slowly and surprisingly nimbly loosens the tiny buckle with his long fingers and slides the first shoe off. The room has hushed; no one is speaking, drinking or even moving. I turn to see what has them so quiet and find all eyes on us, they’re watching Marcus’s movements; they see it, too, and they feel it. This powerful, commanding, intimidating, intense man is literally worshiping me at my feet. He’s removed both shoes and rubs circles into my arches in the way that turns me to Jell-O.

  I’m about to tell him that the massage isn’t necessary when the door opens and the mystery of who will be taking the empty chairs is solved. Elena and Enrique are being escorted in by the hostess.

  “Surprise, baby.” My eyes dart between Marcus and Elena. He always knows what I need even before I do. I mouth the words thank you silently and allow my sister-in-law to envelope me in a bear hug.

  “You look beautiful.”

  “Oh, thanks, so do you, wow!” And she does, her black floor-length fitted gown accentuates every curve of her body, and the off-the-shoulder, barely-there sleeves show off her flawless olive skin. She looks like someone who should be walking the red carpet not attending a family dinner. Enrique is the perfect match to her in his black suit, shirt and tie. “When did you get here?”

  “We flew in this afternoon. He didn’t tell you we were coming?”

  “No, he did not.” He gives me a sly side glance as he takes his place at the head of the table. Enrique kisses me on both cheeks and moves to sit with Elena across from me.

  “It’s good to see you again.” My mother calls from her end of the table.

  “Thank you, Jade, you, too. Actually, you’ll be seeing a lot more of us from now on. We bought a house in Seattle.”

  “You did? Did you know about this?” I take one look at Marcus and I instantly know he’s had a big hand in their move even before he nods confirming my suspicion.

  “We thought you could use the help.”

  “Help with what,” my mom says, perking up. Shit, I guess we won’t be easing into the news. She’s like a pit bull when she senses something’s up, and she definitely senses something. She’s on high alert, leaning over the table, craning her neck to see Elena.

  “With the wedding, of course, Mom,” Latoya sweeps in to save me, and I know she knows. Somehow, she knows. Elena realizes her slip and seamlessly catches on to Latoya’s comment.

  “Yes, the wedding, I’m sure you have a million things to do for the wedding, don’t you, Imani?”

  Before I can answer, mom chimes in, “You’re moving all the way across the country to help plan a wedding?”

  “Mo-ther!” I exclaim.

  “Well, it just seems a little extreme, sorry.”

  “It’s ok, Jade, we may as well make our announcement now and enjoy the rest of our evening.” Marcus says reaching over to take my hand, and we rest them on the table between us.

  “As you all know we are planning a wedding for next month and, as we are already married, I’m sure you are wondering what the rush is.” My mother is sitting straight up in her chair, vibrating with excitement. She grabs my dad’s hand and he grimaces. Latoya is relaxed, as is my oblivious brother-in-law Kyle, sitting next to her.

  “Would you like to tell them?” I thought I would but I’m suddenly overcome with emotion, this is a moment that was never supposed to happen. I was never supposed to be able to be pregnant. I was never going to allow a man past the mammoth stone castle wall I spent ten years building around my heart, but Marcus smashed through that wall, pulverizing it with one swift blow, and changing the course of my life forever.

  My eyes brim with tears as I shake my head no; he squeezes my hand supportively and continues.

  “Imani is pregnant.” My mother screams and jumps up shoving her chair back so hard it tumbles behind her. She rounds the table, ascending on me like an eagle plucking a fish from the ocean as she nearly drags me up and out of my seat. She’s bawling and squeezing the shit out of me, my dad and Kyle sit mouths agape in total shock.

  “I knew it,” Latoya says, sounding proud of herself for figuring out our secret on her own, but she’s still in for a big surprise. I’m sure she would never guess the next bomb Marcus’s about to drop.

  “Mom, hey, it’s ok, shush.” I pat her back in an attempt to comfort her but it’s no use; she’s over the moon at the prospect of being a grandma again. She was heartsick when Latoya and Kyle decided not to have any more children.

  “I’m just so happy for you. How did this happen? I mean I know how it happened but how did it happen, happen?”

  “I don’t know, Mom, it’s a miracle.” Dad peels her arms from my shoulders before kissing me on the cheek with tear filled eyes.

  “Congratulations, sweetheart. I’m so happy for you,” he turns to Marcus, “For you both.” Marcus nods slowly, lazily closing and opening his eyes while he leans back, elbows on the arms of the chair, fingers forming a steeple looking proud and even a little smug.

  “There is more,” he says, and I shrug at my dad.

  “Have a seat, Dad, he’s right, there’s more.” My dad narrows his eyes, trying unsuccessfully to figure out what’s going on but eventually he returns to his seat. Latoya is more alert now. Her curiosity is peaked. She reaches around Kyle to pat my hand.

  “Good work, sis, congratulations,” she says softly. Of all the people in the world, no one knows how much I suffered after my attack and the years that followed more than my mother and Latoya. No one knows how insanely important this miracle is, well, no one other than Marcus.

  “Thanks, it’s crazy.”

  “That’s an understatement, I can’t believe it.”

  “Well, you're really not gonna believe this next part then.”

  “Hurry up then. Don’t keep us waiting, what is it? How much more could there possibly be?”

  “One more,” Marcus says, but no one catches his hint so I expand on his cryptic answer.

  “Twins.” The smile on my face spreads so wide it hurts. Mom’s hands fly to cover her face and I think I hear Kyle choke on his water.

  “Twins,” Latoya shrieks.

  “Yup, there are two of ‘em.”

  Collapsing against the back of her chair she puffs out, “Oh my God, no fucking way!”

  “Latoya! Language!” Mom can’t stand swearing and the ‘F’ word is her most hated curse; even after the shock of a lifetime of learning we are having not one but two babies, she’s still relentless about correcting us.

  “Sorry, Mom,” I say for Latoya, she’s not really paying attention to mom. I have always been the one with the potty mouth, but today I’m apologizing for Latoya. The fallout from the bomb we’ve just detonated is still settling when two waitresses come through the door carrying trays of drinks. Somehow my husband has learned everyone’s preferred alcoholic beverage and the waitresses slide through the room delivering them all to the correct person. They are followed by two waiters who arrange appetizers on either end of the table and then, like magic, all four of them are gone.

  I look at the drink before me, turning it and frowning. Martinis are my standard drink when I go out but this does not look like a martini. It doesn’t look like any drink I’ve ever seen. �
��What is this?”

  “A mocktail; it’s an iced green tea elixir with ginger and lemon.”

  “Mocktail, huh? Never heard of it.”

  “Try it.” I hesitantly take a sip ready to scrunch up my face in distaste but it’s not bad, in fact, it’s really good. Of course it is, he knows things about me I haven’t even figured out yet.

  “How did you know what everybody drinks?”

  “Research.”

  “How did you know I’d like this?” I hold up the glass with a sprig of mint sticking out the top.

  “Ginger.”

  “Oh…” Memories of that first morning in Italy when Maria made me ginger tea and a hard-boiled egg to settle my morning sickness. Everyone is chatting among themselves about our news and their surprise at Marcus knowing what drink they prefer, so they don’t hear when I ask him if everyone knows about Maria’s death.

  “Elena and Enrique know, of course, but I don’t know about your family.”

  “Ok, I’ll tell them, I want them to come to her funeral. They all loved her when they visited Italy for Christmas. I’m sure they would want to go.

  “Alright, before we leave we can tell them about it.” I smile a small, sad smile.

  “Thank you for understanding.”

  “Understanding what, baby?”

  “That I need to lay her to rest properly.”

  “Of course, and you are right, she deserves that. I was thinking in a business manner instead of emotionally. I hate that she is gone, I thought if we avoided the ceremonial part of it maybe it would be easier.”

  “Nothing is going to make it easier but we have to do it, we have to say goodbye.” His hand moves to absently touch the cross that lies against his skin under his suit, it’s always there, he never takes it off, it’s a part of him. I don’t even notice anymore.

  “Where did your cross come from. Did someone special give it to you?”

  “Yes. It was Maria. She was always trying to find ways to protect me.”

  I reach under the table and squeeze his knee. “I’m glad she did. She must have known there were better days to come for you.”

  “Yes, she must have.” Our serious moment is over when Enrique taps his knife against his water goblet drawing everyone’s attention to him.

  “I wanted to propose a toast to Marcus and Imani.” He slides his chair out and stands while everyone holds up their glass

  “I don’t know two people more deserving of happiness than the two of you. I haven’t known either of you for long, but one thing was blatantly obvious the second I laid eyes on you together. You have a big love, a true and lasting love, the kind that is able to withstand some of life’s most difficult hardships and you both still come out on the other side glowing and better than before; to a long life together full of one blessing after another.” Everyone raises their glass to toast.

  “Thank you, Enrique, that was beautiful.” I sniff and Marcus hands me his handkerchief. “Don’t worry, everything makes me cry lately,” I say when a worry line creases his forehead and he looks to Marcus who nods.

  “She is not exaggerating about that.”

  “Oh, hush,” I swat at him. Enrique doesn’t sit after his toast like I expect him to, though. When everyone has settled, he begins to speak again.

  “Now, I’d like to make a little announcement of my own. I’ve been assured that this will not steal any thunder from Marcus and Imani’s big announcement. I don’t think anything could ever top that!”

  “Here, here,” my dad calls out.

  “Elena has agreed to marry me.” He looks down at Elena with adoration, and she reaches up to lace her fingers with his.

  “Oh! Hey! Did you know about this? Of course you did. How could you not tell me?” I fire at Marcus.

  “They wanted it to be a surprise,” he shrugs. I hop up too quickly and of course, Marcus has anticipated this, and he stands with me, steadying me on my bare feet before letting me go.

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” I rush around the table and lean down to hug Elena while the rest of the party congratulates them and raises their glasses in another toast.

  “I’m so happy for you, Elena! Do you have a ring?”

  “Mmmhmm,” and she holds out her left hand, on her finger is the most beautiful pink diamond I’ve ever seen.

  “It’s pink!” I gasp.

  “Yes, he was going for something different.” I take her hand in mine and examine it closer.

  “He did a wonderful job, it’s breathtaking!” I turn to Enrique, “Congratulations, Enrique, welcome to the family. You sure you’re ready for this?” He locks eyes with Elena.

  “Absolutely, I’ve never wanted anything more.” Aw, crap, more tears. I dab them away with the handkerchief still in my hand and return to my seat. The main course is served by the ever-efficient staff but I’m not able to eat much. My appetite is still out of whack so I sit back and pick at my food and watch our families get to know each other.

  “Have you chosen a date for the wedding?” My sister asks Elena.

  “Not yet, we wanted to get through Marcus and Imani’s wedding and the birth of the babies first, so sometime next year probably.” Next year… in just one year Marcus and I will have had a wedding, a honeymoon, and two babies; it doesn’t seem possible.

  “Do you want dessert, baby?” Marcus interrupts my daydreaming and I look down at my pathetic attempt at eating dinner.

  “No, I’ve wasted enough food today, I think.”

  “I noticed. Is there anything else that sounds good? I can have the chef make you anything.”

  “No, it’s fine, another mocktail sounds good, though.” His face brightens.

  “So, I have found you a new favorite drink?”

  “For the next seven months at least, after that I may need a couple shots of tequila to handle mothering twins.”

  “You will not be needing tequila,” he says as his face contorts in disgust. “You will be fine. You will have a lot of help from your family, and I will be there every step of the way; changing diapers, feeding them, walking the halls of the house to quiet them.”

  “Yes, and we aren’t moving here for nothing! I can’t wait to get my hands on my nieces or nephews!” Elena chimes in boisterously, I think she’s had a couple drinks too many.

  “I know, but you can’t be there all the time, I don’t expect you to, and you have to get back to work, Marcus, so tequila it is!”

  “I can do whatever I want. I have a perfectly capable staff of people to run things here, I can work from home and I will not allow anyone but family to be a part of raising my children.” He says this with his ‘end of conversation’ tone. Hmm, I had no idea about his plans to work from home, maybe we need to sit down and have a talk about the future.

  “That’s news to me, good news of course, tequila doesn’t really agree with me anyway.”

  “Of course it doesn’t, no self-respecting wife of mine would drink tequila.” I glance around the table to be sure nobody is drinking a margarita. He seems to have quite an aversion to that particular alcohol.

  “No one is drinking it, Imani. I would never be so rude.” I give him a sideways glance of doubt and he shakes his head at me. “You don’t give me much credit, Mrs. Castillo.”

  “Sorry, I call it how I see it.” One corner of his mouth lifts in a small smirk, and as always, it’s followed with a wink that sets my heart on fire.

  “And that is exactly why I adore you, baby.”

  One Hundred Eight

  Later that night, after I’ve peeled the most expensive and uncomfortable piece of jewelry from my neck and abandoned my dress for cotton pajamas, I curl up alone and wait for Marcus to come to bed. The party lasted until after midnight, and my eyes are so heavy I’m not sure I’ll last until he finishes talking with Elijah. After a night full of happiness and celebration, it was difficult telling my family about Maria’s death and her funeral. They were, of course, gracious and more than w
illing to attend.

  The funeral is tomorrow or today now that it’s past twelve, and Marcus and Elijah are wrapping up last minute details. I made most of the arrangements, but when I ran into a couple of snags, Elijah took over. I have our clothes hung out and ready for Mass so we will be able to sleep in late, if he ever comes to bed at all. I worry about his grieving process. I know it’s different for everyone but Marcus doesn’t seem to be grieving at all. He is all business when he discusses anything to do with Maria. His aunt Angelica was his surrogate mother, but even she didn’t spend as many years with him as Maria did. She cooked for him, kept his house clean and organized. She knew how to do everything in the very specific particular way he liked things to be done. She was there when he brought Megan home to raise her, and she treated her like family because Marcus cared for her. She was there when he was a horrible monster leading an army of evil killers, and she watched and prayed for him to find another way. She prayed for a miracle, and knowing what a pure loving soul she was, God answered her prayer in the most unusual way: a brain tumor and a fatal car accident followed by comas and an insane personality disorder.

  Around four a.m., I finally feel the mattress dip behind me. Marcus curls around my body, pulling me close to spoon against my back. I open my eyes and look around, seeing only the soft light of the lamp casting shadows on the walls of our bedroom. I listen to his breathing for a long time before it becomes regular and peaceful. When I’m sure he’s asleep, I close my eyes again and join him. My alarm doesn’t go off until ten a.m. on purpose, I knew he would come to bed late and I could sleep all day so ten seemed reasonable when the funeral doesn’t start until three. Neither of us has moved a muscle in six hours, and I feel the stiffness when I reach for my phone to shut off the alarm.

  “Are you ready to swim some laps?” His sexy morning voice has me ready for something alright and it isn’t swimming laps, but it only takes a minute for the nausea to squelch my ember of lust. My God, how long will this stage last? I feel like I’ve had the flu for weeks.