by Penny Wylder
I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “So what was our wedding like?”
His eyebrows shoot up. “Hmm?”
“We eloped, right, that’s our story?” Yesterday, before we parted ways to go and pack our bags for departure this morning, he handed me a slim wedding band. He slid a matching titanium one on his own ring finger, which I have to admit, I stole admiring peeks as he did. There’s something hot about seeing it on him; that thin little reminder that, for now at least, he’s mine and mine alone.
My husband, in name if not deed.
“It is.” He’s nodding.
“So, I think we need a story. Justice of the peace, or…?”
“Mm.” He scratches his chin. “Does that make a good enough story for the grandkids, though?”
I laugh. “Okay, how about this. We hired one of those online minister people—”
“Those what?”
“Do you live in the real world or just your rich bubble?” I elbow him and roll my eyes.
“Little from column A, little from column B…” he replies.
“Okay, people can get certificates to perform weddings online. You can hire them for cheap. Let’s say we got one of them—”
“So not Vegas?” he cuts in.
I snort. “You think the justice of the peace isn’t a good enough tale for the grandkids, but Vegas is? How cliché is that?”
“We could’ve gone somewhere fun in Vegas. Maybe one of those drive-through chapels.”
I roll my eyes. “I like my idea better. Online minister guy marries us on the beach.”
“Why the beach?” He tilts his head, genuinely curious, it seems.
“Because it’s romantic as hell, duh. And because if you dip your toes in the surf while you’re doing it, it’s like getting married between worlds, halfway between the land and the sea…” I drift off, staring into space a little, and he smirks at me.
“Someone’s a closet romantic.”
“When did you figure that out, sometime around our third re-watch of Ten Things I Hate About You?”
“I’m only watching it for Heath Ledger, dunno about you.”
I laugh and elbow him again, and we dissolve into easy banter. For a while, it’s easy to forget what this trip means. Where we’re headed. All the unanswered questions waiting on the other side. But then it’s time to board our plane, and the worry comes rushing right back as we walk through the priority boarding lane (of course) and into our crazy nice seats. He’s right—they really do recline all the way back. I didn’t even know seats on airplanes had that option!
I am definitely going to be ruined for budget airlines after this trip. But for now, I take advantage of the luxury and bundle myself into one of the blankets (is it just me or are these nicer in first class too? Fuzzier somehow?) and curl up beside Jasper, reaching out to catch his hand as we prepare for takeoff. His wedding ring digs into my finger, the band cool and solid, and I stroke it without thinking, unconscious.
Jut then, a small toy crashes down in the aisle next to me, and I hear a wail start up. I glance over to find a toddler in the seat a row over, kicking his little chubby legs and pointing at the toy he’s dropped, a little red sports car. I flash him a reassuring smile and lean down to grab it for him, quickly handing it over to stave off any farther freak-outs.
“You know, my husband and I build cars like this one,” I tell him as I pass it back to him, trying that word on for size. Husband.
His mother smiles at me gratefully, and the little boy accepts the toy with huge eyes, too busy staring at me now to remember the car. “Really?” he asks. “That’s a job you can do?”
“Of course. But the cars we make are people-sized.” I wink at him. “Even more fun.”
He spins to his mother, eyes still huge. “Mommy, I want to do that when I grow up!”
When I settle back into my seat and reach for Jasper’s hand again, I notice that for the first time since we got onto this flight, he’s actually smiling. “What?” I ask, accusatory.
He just laughs. “Nothing, nothing.” He squeezes my hand, tight enough that the wedding band presses against my skin. “Just… You said husband.”
“Figured we’d better start practicing now, no?” I lift a brow.
He, in turn, raises my hand to his lips. He kisses my fingers, one after the other, eyes locked on mine. “I don’t think I’ll need a reminder,” he says. “I rather like calling you wife.”
My stomach does a happy flip then, and not just because we’ve taxied to the end of the runway and finally begun takeoff.
11
Jasper
Showtime, I think as the prearranged car Dad sent for us pulls up in front of the resort. Between all of our family members, we’ve practically booked up this entire island, let alone this whole resort. But my gaze darts right to my father first and foremost, standing front and center with an arm around my mother’s shoulders, watching our car pull in.
He arrived on an earlier flight. I took this later one on purpose, to delay as long as possible the moment when he and Dee meet. I’ve been enjoying having her all to myself, this secret partner-in-crime. Now, it’s all about to come to a head. And this girl who I picked especially to piss him off, to make him think she won’t fit in…
She’s turning into the one I want him to like best. That moment on the plane, hearing her call me her husband so casually while she passed that little boy his toy, laughing and talking with him… That made it hit home. I want that with her. I want a family with her. I want her.
“You ready for this?” Dee squeezes my fingertips, pulling me back to the present, like she can sense what I’m thinking.
She’s always able to do that. I cast her a tiny sideways smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be. But what about you? You’re the one about to face the firing squad.”
She bursts into laughter. “You keep saying family is everything, and then you talk about them like they’re the scariest thing on the planet.”
“Who says they can’t be both?” I flash her a wry smile, and then the valet is there, opening our car doors, and we climb out to face the music. “Dad,” I call over the top of the car, hoping to catch his attention first.
But his eyes have locked onto Dee already. I watch him and Mom do a once-over. She’s dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, but then, we did just fly 10 hours to get here. Surely they can’t blame her for that.
“Mom, Dad.” I smoothly step between them for the introductions. “I’d like to introduce Dee. My wife.”
My mother’s eyes widen, and she shoots my father a sideways glare that nobody for a mile around could miss. “I thought you were joking, Antoine.”
“I wouldn’t joke about something like this,” my father replies, his poker face on-point as he smiles and extends a hand to Dee. “It’s so lovely to meet you.”
“Great to meet you too!” She goes for the hug before she notices his extended hand instead, and drops her arms, face flushed, to shake his hand. “And you too, Mrs. Quint.” She offers a hand to my mother, who stares between Dee, me and my father like she’s utterly bewildered by this turn of events.
I wonder how much my father told her. If he shared his little stipulation with her about promoting me to CEO. If she knows he’s responsible for the sudden wife appearance.
“Please, call me Kara.” Finally, she takes Dee’s hand and squeezes her fingers, just once, in the signature weird handshake my mother always does to throw businessmen off. They never know quite what to do when she doesn’t try to pump their arm off shaking hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, although I do wish my son had introduced you sooner.” She flashes me a pointed glare. “Perhaps we could have properly celebrated your nuptials as a family, rather than hearing about it second-hand through a secretary.”
My ears go red. “Mom, I—”
“It was my idea, Mrs. Quint,” Dee interrupts, blurting out the words. Then she winces in apology. “I mean, Kara. I just… I don’t have any family
left, and I’d always loved the idea of eloping. It’s so romantic, don’t you think? We went to the beach for it, and had one of those ministers from… um… online…” Her practiced recital of our wedding story dies on her lips at my mother’s cool, silent stare.
Her lack of words says far more than anything Mom could say.
“That sounds lovely,” Dad butts in, and none of us miss the subtle way he taps Mom’s shoulder with his fingertips.
“Yes, quite lovely. I’m so sorry that we couldn’t be there for it,” Mom replies. “But I’m glad you both enjoyed it.”
“How did you meet?” Dad asks, cutting straight past the wedding topic. Damn. I should have guessed this would hurt Mom’s feelings, not being invited to her only son’s elopement. What a tangled mess we’ve made here. Maybe she’ll forgive me someday, when I explain what all this was really about.
“Oh, uh…” I cast Dee a glance.
She bursts into laughter. “Well, it was pretty damn strange, actually, I was…”
Mom’s eyebrows shoot higher at the word damn, and Dee flushes all over again.
“She’s one of our interns,” interrupts another voice. All four of us turn to find Greg at our elbows, having finished putting the poor resort staff through their paces organizing my relatives’ rooms and bags. “Jasper was taken with her on the first day, when she came to introduce herself at the water cooler.” He flashes me a reassuring, I’ve got this smile.
I want to kick him. I know he thinks he’s helping, reinforcing the whole look-at-this-random-intern-your-son-just-married story, but this is not the direction I want to go with anymore. “Dee’s great, actually,” I interrupt. “It was funny, the first day we met, before her orientation, I took her out on the test track…” I flash Dad a glance. “You should see how she handles the cars out there. And not just on the road, she knows her way around beneath a hood, too.”
“I see.” Mom blinks at me slowly, and only then do I hear the way those words sound. Beneath a hood.
“So you’re into cars?” Dad perks up, zeroing in on a common subject of interest to chat about.
“Oh yeah, it’s what drew me to the company in the first place. I’ve always been a fan.” Dee beams at him, and launches into her story about growing up ogling Quint cars on the road, daydreaming about one day being able to work at designing something that beautiful and functional all in one. By the time she’s waxing poetic about her spin around the test track, I can tell that Dad, at least, is into the conversation.
Mom, on the other hand, shoots me a concerned glance and gently disentangles herself from my father’s grasp. “Jasper, can we speak for a moment?” she asks, her voice low.
“Of course, Mom.”
I step off to the side, somewhat worried about leaving Dee and Dad alone with Greg. Greg flashes me another thumbs-up, and my worry only increases.
But there’s nothing I can do about it with Mom breathing down my neck right now. “I hope you got a pre-nup,” Mom says, straight off.
My face goes red. “Mother.”
“Well, honestly, Jasper. Who is this girl? How long have you known her?”
“A month.”
“One month, and you’re ready to run off and marry her without so much as mentioning her to any of the family first?” She purses her lips.
“I told Dad about it. He seemed supportive.”
“Your father wants grandchildren so badly he’d support you eloping with a complete stranger. Which, you’ve practically done, I might add. So, like father like son.” Mom groans and waves a hand back over her shoulder toward her husband.
“How long did you and Dad know each other before you got married?” I counter.
“That was a different time,” she replies.
But I already know the answer. “He proposed to you on your third date,” I remind her. “You got married at a secret ceremony with the justice of the peace because your dad didn’t approve. How long after your third date was that?”
“Six months, not one,” she replies, one eyebrow arched wryly. “And as I said, it was a different time. Besides, our families had known one another for years before that. My father and Antoine’s may not exactly have been friends, but they were aware of one another, ran in the same social circles.”
“So you don’t approve because she’s not rich, is that it?” I roll my eyes.
“I’m saying that when you are a member of a family like the Quints, when you have the kind of resources we do, Jasper, people will try to take advantage of that. Women will try to take advantage of that.”
“What, you don’t think any gay male gold-diggers out there would try to seduce me too?” I press a hand to my chest, feigning shock.
Mom’s mouth tightens around the edges. “This is not a joke, Jasper. This is about your inheritance, your family, your livelihood. If this girl is some, some… snake in the grass—”
“Give her a chance, Mom. Get to know her before you judge her.” I arch a brow. “And if it makes you feel any better, she has no legal grounds to take me for all the money I’m worth, okay?” I don’t say pre-nup, because there wasn’t even a wedding. But if implying there’s some sort of legal protection in place will reassure Mom, then I’ll run with it.
At that, Mom sighs, and her shoulders relax a little. “All right. I’m sorry, Jasper. I just…” It’s only then that I notice the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. “I thought you’d invite your father and me to your wedding, that’s all.”
Shit. This is the real reason she’s upset. Not the gold-digging stuff—although I’m sure that’s a concern, it’s not what has her so emotional. “Oh, Mom…” I reach out my arms. Wrap them around her, and peer over her head at Dad and Dee in the distance, both chatting with Greg now.
Dee, for her part, has shrunken back in on herself, pulled her hands into the sleeves of her oversized hoodie while they talk. Dad looks, if anything, more worried than Mom by now.
What is Greg saying over there?
Crap. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I tell her, and lean down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. We’ll do a real ceremony at some point, I’m sure.”
She draws in a deep, shaky breath. “Okay. I’m sorry I overreacted. I know you’ve never fallen so quickly before, Jasper, so I’m sure this Dee must really be something to have won you over.” Then Mom follows my gaze over her shoulder, and spies her husband’s face. “Oh dear. But we’d better go and save her from your father.”
We part and cross back over to Dad’s side.
“—sounds like it’s been very difficult,” Dad is saying.
Dee shuffles her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “I mean… Some things about it.”
“I don’t know how you put up with it,” Greg put in. “I’d feel awful, if I knew people all throughout the office were spreading those kinds of stories about me.”
“What’s this?” I break in, voice sharp. “Are we really talking office politics here?” I gesture around us at the blue skies overhead, the bright Mediterranean sun beating down on the beautiful cliff side resort that overlooks blue waves and white sand beaches far below. Beaches I can’t wait to bring Dee to—and not just because it will be a great excuse to see her in a bikini. Or even just bikini bottoms—a lot of the beaches here are topless ones. I bet she’d fit right in, with that sexy, curvy body of hers…
Then again, do I want all the other Greek men on the beach ogling my wife? I’m torn.
“Sorry, Jasper.” Greg tilts his head at me, his expression confused and conflicted. I’ll need to talk to him later. Explain that this whole lambast-Dee thing is no longer the plan. The new plan is to make her feel as comfortable as possible amidst my crazy family.
“I think Dee and I need to go drop our things off,” I say, with a glance past my family at the hotel attendants. Our bags have already been moved up to the room, and one attendant is waiting discretely nearby with a pair of key cards. “Freshen up a bit. What’s
the plan for tonight again?”
“Cocktails on the rooftop lounge deck at sunset,” Greg pipes up helpfully, clearly trying to make up for my annoyance at him.
“Great. See you all there.” I lean in to kiss Mom’s cheek goodbye, then hug Dad. They both embrace Dee this time, at least, rather than offering handshakes. But I notice Dad’s hug seems stiff and formal, and Mom’s still tense, despite her promise to me to give Dee a real chance.
By the time we make it to our room, Dee’s shoulders sag and she lets out a huge sigh. “Well that couldn’t have gone worse,” she groans.
“They’re going to love you,” I insist, shutting the door behind us and crossing the room to open the huge balcony windows. They overlook the sea, and the view is breathtaking, with little dots of green islands in the distance and the beautiful red-tiled rooftops of the village down below us. “Just give them some time to get to know you, that’s all. They’re in shock.”
She runs a hand through her hair, not even the view or the delicious-smelling sea breeze distracting her right now. “I guess it doesn’t really matter, at the end of the day, right?” She offers up a wry smile. “It’s probably stupid, but part of me… Part of me wanted them to like me anyway. I don’t know.” She shrugs one shoulder, lets it fall.
I cross to the bed and sit beside her, then wrap an arm around her shoulders to tug her against me. “They will, Dee, believe me. I know my parents. Mom is hurt about the elopement, which, to be honest, I should have seen coming. But her and Dad’s romance wasn’t so difference—they moved crazy fast when they got married, even for their generation. And Dad… he’s going to be over the moon by dinnertime. This is what he always wanted for me, after all,” I add with a wry smile.
“A wife, yeah. But probably not a wife like me.” It’s killing me to see her shoulders slumped like this. “And what was with Greg? I thought he liked me, but today…”
I scowl. “I’m going to talk to him.” He thinks he’s doing me a favor, is what I don’t—can’t—say. After the cocktail party tonight, I’m just going to have to catch him alone and explain that the plan has changed. Things aren’t what they used to be. This whole situation is quicksand under my feet.
