by Ali Parker
“If you do this now,” I leaned in close, “I’ll make it up to you later.”
And with that, I knocked on the door before I could stop myself, and a moment later, it sprang open.
“Kristo.” Leda, one of my cousins, answered the door. “You’re here!”
“Yup.” I hugged her quickly, and then glanced around at Amaya. She was hanging back a little, but Leda had already honed in on her.
“And who’s this?” she demanded, stepping forward and practically examining my new wife.
“This is Amaya,” I replied, and then closed my eyes like I was preparing for the impact. “My wife.”
“Your what?” Leda shrieked at the top of her lungs.
“What’s going on out there?” I heard Nonna Balaban’s voice float through from the kitchen, where she was no doubt holding court.
“Kristo’s married,” Leda yelled back, and I was sure I heard the entire house take a collective gasp of shock.
“Bring him in here,” my grandmother ordered, and I took Amaya’s hand and led her through to the kitchen. Lunch was nearly on the table, but the entire house virtually came to a halt at the news.
“Uh, hello.” Amaya waved, managing a smile. Nonna eyed her with an inscrutable expression.
“And this is your wife?” She turned to me, eyebrows lost in her carefully done gray hair.
“Yes, this is my wife Amaya.” I realized I didn’t know her last name, so I decided to forgo it.
“Your wife,” Nonna repeated again and then turned to the scattering of cousins in the kitchen. “Go, take the food to the table. I need to talk to Kristo.”
“I can help with that if you—” Amaya tried to offer, but Nonna cut her off before she could say another word.
“No, I need to speak with you.” She turned to her and planted her hands on her hips. Even though she was a good six inches shorter than Amaya, she dominated the whole room.
“Okay.” Amaya shot me a panicked look, one that said I wasn’t to go anywhere and certainly wasn’t to leave her in here alone with my nonna. I closed the door behind me. Least I could do was keep this between us.
“So, how did you meet?” she demanded, and I dived in swiftly to cover Amaya’s tracks.
“We met a few months ago, while I was on a work trip,” I replied. “And we decided ‘hey, let’s just do it.’ We love each other, so why not?”
“And why didn’t you mention this young lady to me before?” she demanded, and I shrugged.
“I didn’t want to get your hopes up that I was going to marry this one,” I replied. “But here we are.”
Nonna nodded, apparently happy with what I’d told her and then turned her attention to Amaya.
“And you, what do you do?”
“Uh, I’m a librarian,” Amaya replied, her voice a little shaky. “And I take care of my sister.”
“Librarian? So you have a degree?”
“A master’s.” Amaya nodded.
“How old are you?” She eyed her, giving her a sweep up and down.
“Twenty-eight,” Amaya replied at once. Nonna nodded—young enough to give her some grandchildren, that was what she was thinking.
And the twenty questions continued like that. I was surprised at how deft Amaya was in knocking them back, sticking to her guns calmly and completely. By the end of it, even Nonna seemed satisfied with everything she had heard.
She ran out of questions and inhaled sharply through her nose as she peered at the two of us again. Amaya reached out to take my hand, and I squeezed it, silently thanking her for pulling this off.
“Well, I suppose there’s nothing I can do about the wedding now,” she sighed heavily, and I knew that was as close as I was going to get to her approval. I shot a look at Amaya and nodded, letting her know this was a win.
“Amaya, please, feel free to join the rest of the family at the table.” She waved her hand, and I went to follow her, but Nonna caught my arms before I could get out of the room.
“Don’t think I’m letting you get away that easily,” she muttered, and I was suddenly a kid again about to get chewed out by my grandma for stealing the halva before the rest of the family got a chance to get near them.
“What did you think you were doing, running off and getting married behind our backs?” she demanded, and I shrugged.
“You like her, don’t you?” I pointed out, and she sighed heavily.
“Yes, but I would have liked being at your wedding even more,” she replied. “We’ll throw a party, eh? How about that?”
“Sounds good.” I nodded, and finally, I was allowed out of the kitchen to join the rest of the family around the table. The worst was over. Just a couple more hours and we could be out of here.
She did well with the rest of the family, though I tried my best to deflect the majority of questions for the time being. I didn’t want her overwhelmed, not quite yet. At least she’d met everyone now. Well, not quite, as my sister, Cleo, hadn’t made it up this weekend, but that was only one person, and I could handle her. Probably. As long as I got to her before any of the cousins broke the news of my marriage.
It took us what felt like a lifetime to extract ourselves at the end of the party, but eventually, the family let us get away, and relieved, I headed back out to the car. As soon as the door had shut behind us, I let out a long groan of relief.
“Well, thank fuck that went well.” I turned to her.
“That was it going well?” She gave me a look. “I felt as though I didn’t impress them so much.”
“Oh, trust me, you did,” I promised. “If she hadn’t liked you, Nonna would have just kicked you out of the house.”
“Please tell me she’s done that to someone before.” She giggled. She’d had a couple of drinks, and I could see the flush to her cheeks telling me she was a little merry.
“Oh, the stories I could tell you about her.” I shook my head. “Come on, let’s get home. I’m tired.”
“Me too.” She yawned, and she leaned her head against the window and stared outside as we headed back down to my apartment. I tried to think how I would deliver on the promise that I would make it worth her while—wine, flowers, chocolate. Chocolate. I grinned to myself as we drove, pleased at how well it had gone. The next year would be perfect too.
12
I tugged at my dress, pulling my hair up and letting it down again. I wasn’t sure if I looked right yet. I was just going to the library, a place I’d been a dozen times before, but I still wanted to look right for work.
I finally let my hair down, allowing it to flow over my shoulders. Sexy librarians were a thing, right? Yeah, a porn category, I replied to myself snarkily. I quickly pulled my hair up and tied it into a ponytail and checked for the thousandth time that everything was in place for me to head to work. I finished up the last of the coffee I had been sipping on. Kristo had made me a pot, the same as he had on my first morning here, and I was surprised at how quickly I was growing to love the bittersweet darkness of it.
It was odd, getting ready in an apartment that wasn’t my own, but I supposed I was going to have to get used to it now that I had officially moved in with him. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to see his family again soon. That dinner had been way more than enough, and that was with a couple of glasses of wine to take off the edge. I felt as though they were interrogating me, especially his grandmother, who seemed determined to wring any drop of insecurity out of me, to shine a light in the dark corners of my soul to be sure I was an appropriate partner for her grandson. Kristo told me they were all satisfied by me, but I’d walked out of there even more nervous than before. I was supposed to keep fooling these people for a whole year? It didn’t make sense.
I grabbed my laptop, slipped it into my bag, and went for the door. That was when it hit me. I didn’t have a car. How the hell was I supposed to get to work?
“Kris—”
I turned around to go find him and ask what the heck I should do, but before I could go
anywhere, I walked straight into him. For a split second, the feel of his body so close to mine and the smell of his aftershave and his shower gel filling my senses brought me back to that night I’d forgotten. I could feel his hands all over me, his body moving against mine, his skin warm and cool all at the same time, his touch—
“What’s up?” he asked, stepping away from me, taking me by the shoulders and guiding me away from him. I blinked up at him, and somehow, he knew what was going through my mind.
“I hired a driver for you,” he explained quickly. “He’s waiting downstairs, and he knows where he’s going. Have a good day at work.”
I stood there for a long moment, just staring at him, and he took me by the arms and turned me around to face the door. He gave me a tiny little push in the direction of the exit, and any other guy and I would have scoffed at what he was trying to do. But I didn’t even have words to reply to him. I felt as though my brains were leaking out the back of my head in reaction to being so close to him again, and if there was one thing I didn’t like, it was feeling stupid.
“Uh, right,” I managed as he made his way past me and headed to his bedroom, probably to go get changed to head to his own office. I stared after him for a long moment. My mind was reeling at what had just happened. Well, not walking into him but about how strongly and instantly being that near to him had affected me. Even as I went for the door, my head felt as though it was still spinning, trying to make sense of how it felt to be so close to him all over again. I wanted to lean up and kiss him, to wind my arms tightly around his neck and press my body against his and tell him to forget work because we were going to spend the rest of the day in bed together.
Fuck, how was it fair that even now, he drew something out of hiding deep down inside of me?
I headed downstairs and went outside, and sure enough, there was a car sitting at the curb waiting for me. The driver nodded at me, and I wondered how much he was in on the game, if he knew we were married but not really married. That said, my carnal desire for my husband had taken a sudden uptick, and I wondered if I had been a little too hasty in asking to sleep in the bed by myself since I’d arrived.
I climbed into the back of the car and smiled nervously at the driver. I had never not driven myself to work before. It wasn’t like I could afford to pay for someone to take me in, and I barely ever took cabs because I always thought of it as a waste of money. It was odd, knowing that now, I could have asked for a driving tour of the whole city and been able to afford lunch at the end of it.
“The library?” he asked, and I nodded.
“Yeah, that’s right,” I replied, and he drew away from the building and down into the city. I turned to watch the apartment vanish into the distance. Some part of me was still begging for us to turn around, forget work, and spend the rest of the day hiding out in the apartment together reminding ourselves of everything we’d both forgotten.
That was probably the most frustrating part of all of this. I couldn’t remember what we’d done together that night, no matter how much I cast my mind back and tried to fit the pieces together. I had lain in bed and strained to remember what had gone down—hell, if he had—but I couldn’t remember a thing. The bruises and marks on my body from that night were beginning to fade, but they weren’t replaced by memories, and that was starting to get to me.
Because I wanted to remember. He was still one of the most stone-cold gorgeous men I’d ever seen in my life, and it felt like it would be a waste to spend a whole year with him and not do something more practical about my attraction. Just so we could remember. If I had chosen to marry him after it, then I had to assume it had been good, or perhaps our sex together was a pseudo-honeymoon, coming after the vows?
I leaned back against the plush leather and let my mind wander a little. He had told me it was up to me what happened in the bedroom. In fact, when he had lain that out to me, it had seemed more like a challenge than anything else, as though he was double-daring me to take him up on the offer to see what he could deliver on if I’d give him the chance.
When he’d leaned in close to my ear and told me he would make meeting his family worthwhile, sex was the first thing I thought he was referencing. Turned out I was wrong. He had purchased an enormous box of chocolates that he’d presented me with the next morning, and I had found myself a little disappointed. Some part of me had hoped he was going to sweep me off my feet and carry me to the bedroom, to show me what I’d been missing. But he was too much of a gentleman for that, and he was still leaving it up to me. Right now, after bumping into him this morning, I was leaning firmly toward hell yes.
What would he be like in bed? I couldn’t help wondering. He had this calm, cool confidence that oozed off him in waves, and I had a feeling that would pass over to his sex life too. He would be the kind of guy who’d issue orders like he owned you, speaking firmly with a hint of tenderness, stroking his hand down your back before landing a slap on your ass, kissing your neck before he bared his teeth against the skin. I could almost feel it now, his breath hot on my ear, just the way it had been outside his family’s house. I shivered and squirmed a little against the plush leather of the seat. God, that was a thought. I could linger on that one all day. His hands gripping me as though he couldn’t get enough of me, looking deeply into my eyes as he moved inside me, how it would feel to share that connection with him, my husband, my—
“Excuse me?” The driver was looking at me in the mirror, and I blinked a couple of times and came back to reality. My cheeks were flushed in the rearview mirror, and I swallowed and cleared my throat.
“Yes?”
“We’re here.” He gestured outside. I grabbed my bag and pulled it onto my lap, for some reason defensive despite myself.
“Uh, right, sorry.” I nodded. “Thanks. For the lift, I mean.”
“Thank your husband,” he replied simply. “He’s the one who organized this for you.”
“I will.” I nodded again and lingered for another moment, not sure if I should tip him or something. But instead, I got out of the car and headed in to start work. My mind was racing over everything I’d been imagining on the ride over. I would be thanking my husband all right, just not in the way that driver expected.
13
I sensed something was up as soon as I stepped into the office. And I had a feeling I knew what it was before I arrived at my desk. When I opened my door and saw her sitting there, I rolled my eyes to the heavens and let out a pointed sigh.
“Cleo, what the hell are you doing here?” I demanded. My sister was sitting in the chair behind my desk with a big grin on her face, spinning around like she owned the place. Well, she could have if she’d wanted to, but she’d been the one who’d insisted she was more interested in pursuing her art than anything else. She spent most of her time hanging out at balls and galas and getting photographed for the social pages, but she had a studio and occasionally produced some awesome paintings when she put in the time. I had one of them sitting next to the bed in the spare room, waiting to be hung up.
“I thought I’d come in and visit you,” she replied, playing at innocent even though I knew she was anything but. “They told me the news, you know.”
“Crap,” I muttered, closing the door behind me carefully. No one at the business knew I was married yet, and I had no intention of letting my sister announce it to them.
“I can’t believe you actually ran off and just got married,” she remarked, shaking her head in play-disapproval. “And without telling your beloved sister, no less.”
“Trust me, you’re going to be a lot less beloved if you’re not careful,” I warned her. “Come on, out of my chair. I need to get to work-”
“You’re seriously not going to tell me any more about her?” She pouted. “The woman you married? Don’t I deserve a little more than that?”
“You don’t deserve anything for coming down here and disturbing me when I’ve got so much work to follow up on,” I said. “You should go hom
e for now. I’ll call you, and we can sort out dinner.”
“I thought I would just turn up on your doorstep like you did with her last night,” she continued breezily. “The entire family’s a mess, you know that? None of them can believe you did this. It’s just not like you.”
“Well, now it is.” I shrugged. “Come on, out of here. I’ll call you later, I promise.”
“When do we get to meet her?” she asked, spinning from foot to foot at the doorway. “I want to see the woman who stole your heart so unequivocally, you married her without telling any of us.”
“Uh …” I trailed off, and suddenly a thought hit me. A bad one.
“You didn’t tell Dad, did you?” I asked, playing it casual, but she knew me well enough to see the panic all over my face. A smile crept up her face, the same one that appeared when she’d hidden my school uniform or blabbed on me to Dad for sneaking out when we were both in high school.
“Of course, I have,” she replied innocently. “He is your father. I thought it was only right that he knew.”
“Oh, fucking hell,” I groaned. “And when exactly is he back from his honeymoon?”
“A day,” she replied, the grin widening evilly. “And I think he has some pretty strong opinions about what you’ve done, Kristo. He sounded pretty angry on the phone.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for that.” I cocked my head at her crossly. “Think you can give me a little peace and quiet now? Seems like I have some serious damage control to do.”
“Seems like you do.” She headed to the door at last. “Let me know how it goes with Dad. If you survive.”
“Will do,” I replied, and she planted a quick kiss on my cheek before she swept out the door and left me in peace, though now that I was alone, my brain was running double-time trying to make sense of what the fuck I should do now. I should have told them to keep their mouths shut to Dad for the time being until I could tell him about Amaya myself. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind until now and it was way too late. I would just have to deal with him when I got back. Unless …
