by M. S. Parker
“Looks like he got me out,” I whispered.
He’d gotten me out and he’d moved on. That was a good thing and I was happy about it. Really.
If I said it enough, it would be true.
Five
The fire burned merrily away in the hearth for aesthetic purposes. The air conditioning was blasting away in competition for comfort, but wasn’t really succeeding. While my front was toasting, my back was shivering, and I was thoroughly chilled inside. I doubted that had anything to do with the air conditioning though.
I’d known I couldn’t keep doing this, so after a lot of thought, I’d decided what I wanted to do. The problem would be talking Edward into it because it wasn’t simply a matter of giving me what I wanted.
I’d been even more miserable over the past couple days. Indecision had never suited me, but anymore I didn’t know which way to turn, what to do, whether I wanted to go left or right.
I told myself that the wedding was the biggest source of stress going on right now. Every time I thought of having to deal with another meeting with Estelle, thinking about seeing Claire and listen to her sly put downs, it just made everything worse. I wanted to marry Edward, but planning the damned thing was going to give me ulcers.
Planning the wedding was the problem.
I refused to let myself think about the twisting knots that tangled up my gut whenever I thought about Flynn’s hand sliding up a golden-skinned torso, cupping a large, heavy breast before toying and tugging on a plump, ripe nipple. When I remembered the way he’d been thrusting into her. The sound of her screaming his name.
Even as envy burned inside, lust made my body burn in ways that would have been unfamiliar. Except he’d already taught me all about this sort of mind numbing heat. Made my body crave it.
Who was she?
Even as the thought went through my head, I wanted to kick myself. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t my problem. Neither was he. He’d moved on and that was good. Now I needed to focus on what was dragging me down. The wedding. Specifically, planning it.
“Gabriella?”
At the sound of Edward’s voice, I turned my head. I even managed to smile as I stood up. Wrapping my arms around myself as I faced him, I mentally went through my prepared little speech again.
“Can we talk?”
I explained everything just the way I’d rehearsed it, calmly and matter-of-fact. I barely let any hint of what I was feeling show in my words. I had to make it clear that I wasn’t being emotional.
By the time I’d finished, Edward had taken up my former position at the fireplace. “I wish you would have told me how upsetting you found all of this before. I would have...” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, lifting his gaze to stare up at the ceiling as though all his answers lay there. “Then again, if I’d been paying more attention, I would have seen it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Guilt battered me. Twisting my fingers into knots, I forced myself to smile. “I should have spoken up sooner. It’s not like I totally lack that ability.”
His amused laugh lightened my heart and he came to me, cupping my face in his hands. A fluttering sensation danced inside me as he kissed me, quick and light. “So I’ve learned. My mother has been quite taken aback. She isn’t used to people taking her on like that, Gabriella.” The laughter faded from his face, then his eyes. His expression grew thoughtful, serious. “I have a proposal for you.”
“You already did that.” Tugging on his tie, I leaned in and kissed his chin, ridiculously relieved that he didn’t appear to be angry with me.
“Funny.” He pinched my chin. “We can have a small, private ceremony, for us, our family and closest friends. You can do everything you want. Colors, dresses, everything. Estelle can help if you want, but you don’t have to ask her. Then we’ll have the big ceremony as planned. We can leave everything that’s already been decided and then let Mom and Estelle take care of the rest. You won’t have to worry about arguing with her anymore. Just nod and smile while you’re thinking of everything you want to do for our private ceremony.”
Two weddings. That was his solution. My heart started to fall to my feet. I could see the sense here, I supposed. A wedding for me and, basically, a wedding for Claire.
It would be nice to have what I wanted without arguing with her, and it would help things between the two of us if I started agreeing to everything she wanted. Edward had found the peaceful solution that should have made everyone happy.
“What do you think?” he asked quietly.
Despondent, I dropped my head onto his shoulder. The entire idea of still having the big wedding left my head pounding. I was starting to hate the very idea of it, and it wasn’t because it was going to be big. That, I could’ve handled. It was the fact that it wasn’t about me and Edward. It was about being a Bouvier and everything that went with it. This hadn’t been what I’d wanted when I’d decided to talk to Edward.
Eyes closed, I let my mind drift, hoping to find some sort of peace in the lack of direction, but it took only seconds before I was once again reliving the memory from hours earlier. Flynn skin to skin with another woman. The ache in my chest grew.
Damn him! I wanted to scream or cry or kick something. Or someone. Preferably Flynn.
“Okay,” I heard myself saying. Then I looked up at Edward and smiled. “That sounds good.”
It didn’t matter. It wasn’t about the wedding anyway. It was about the life Edward and I were starting together. If this made him feel like he’d made peace between Claire and me, I’d do it and I’d be grateful that I was marrying someone who made it possible for me to have two weddings.
Rising up over Edward, I braced my hands on his chest and arched my back. His cock pulsed deep inside me and the pleasure rolled through me, sweet and easy.
But sweet wasn’t what I wanted. Sweet wouldn’t drive away the dark cloud that hung over me.
Grabbing his hands, I brought them to my breasts. I tried to block out the images flooding through my head as I urged him to touch me. His thumbs brushed across my hard nipples, but I didn’t want brushes and caresses. I wanted something sharp and intense, but I didn’t know how to tell him. I didn’t want him to feel like he wasn’t enough.
He groaned out my name and arched up, moving harder, faster. I fell forward, driving my hands into the mattress on either side of his head. His eyes, so dark and lovely, stared into mine. I slammed myself down onto him and heat blasted me. I shuddered and cried out. I was so close.
He caught my hips, squeezing tight enough to make me moan. That’s what I wanted. His name tore from my lips and he hesitated. Riding him harder, I fought for the orgasm that seemed almost out of reach. I curled my fingers in the sheets, imagining it was my nails biting into his skin.
In the next second, I found myself on my back as he flipped me over. His mouth crushing mine, Edward began to drive into me, harder and faster. The passion began to overwhelm me. Bodies sliding together, sweat slicking our flesh, I stared up at him. It was almost enough, almost hard and rough enough.
“Edward...” I moaned out his name as I rode the edge. I love him, I told myself. I love him.
“Gabriella.” He rasped my name just before he kissed me, a deep, hungry kiss that stole my breath away.
When his teeth scraped against my bottom lip, I was able to find that place inside me and finally came. As I tightened around him, he groaned and followed me.
We lay there, panting and wrapped around each other, my hand on his chest as he stroked his up and down my hip. I focused on the fading pleasure, telling myself that I was imagining the slight ache inside me, the one that told me I’d missed something, that there had been a greater plateau I could have reached. I’d come, but I wasn’t entirely sure I’d been satisfied. That wasn’t important though. Not every climax had to be earth-shattering.
“I’ll call my mother in the morning,” he said some time later, his voice thick with sleep. “Talk to her about our cha
nge of plans.”
“Hmmm…”
That was the only response I made out loud. Inside, I was still telling myself, I love him. I really wasn’t trying to convince myself. It only seemed that way.
I loved Edward.
Six
“You do realize why she’s in such a hurry, don’t you?”
The look Claire tossed me was full of scorn. If I hadn’t felt pretty much the same way about her, it might have gotten to me. But I didn’t really care for her, and that was putting it politely.
As she continued to glare at me, I arched an eyebrow at her. I’d been working on that. It was an expression of cool contempt and I found some small measure of pleasure when she was the one to look away.
The pleasure faded as she turned towards Edward, her voice rising. “Don’t you?”
“Yes, Mother.” Edward gave me a small, pained smile, one that clearly said let me handle this. Please.
That meant only one thing. This wasn’t going to be over any time soon and it was going to get uglier. Lowering myself onto the window seat, I stared out over the gardens and tried to pretend I was inside a scene I’d just written. Inside it, not actually living it. Although, if I’d been writing it, the heroine would’ve had a hell of a lot more to say to the villain of the piece.
We’d decided to invite her over for brunch to tell her the news rather than having Edward do it over the phone. I was pretty sure that had been one of the worst ideas ever. She’d come sailing through the door, armed with wedding plans and suggestions. In seconds, she’d raked me over with a look that made it very clear that my plain white capris and pink silk top fell very short of what she considered appropriate attire.
But then again, Claire Bouvier considered everything about me inappropriate, from my slight Tennessee twang to my simple and inexpensive haircut. I was pretty sure she even found the auburn color of my hair offensive, but that wasn’t the most inappropriate thing about me. No, that was my relationship with her oldest son.
We’d had a whirlwind romance, getting engaged after dating only a short while and she was furious about that. Then Edward had decided that he’d wanted us to be married in an equally short period of time. She’d been livid, but had thrown herself into the preparations for a massive ceremony befitting the Bouvier name.
Now, the plans had changed.
Sort of.
After finally telling Edward that his mother was stressing me out by overriding every decision I’d made about the wedding and generally taking over, he’d suggested that we have two weddings. A small one I could plan for just our families and close friends, and then Claire could keep the big one she felt was appropriate. I hadn’t exactly been happy that he’d come to that solution since it had still meant Claire would force me to have the wedding she wanted, but I’d agreed in an effort to keep the peace.
Claire, apparently, wasn’t going to be so gracious.
Not that it surprised me.
“Mom, please.” His tone was placating. “We’ll still have the big ceremony in two months, just like you wanted, but we want to make things official now.” He didn’t say anything about the fact that I wanted a wedding I actually had some say in. “We want to start living our lives without the pressure of a big wedding looming over us. You and Estelle can handle everything for that one.”
Her nose curled as if she smelled something bad. “She wants to make things official now because she wants to start living her life with your bank account. It’s quite the coup, some young girl from Tennessee catching the eye of Edward Bouvier. She must be so thrilled with herself.”
My hands curled into fists. I didn’t give a damn about Edward’s money or last name. He could be Edward Smith from Nowhere, Alabama and it wouldn’t matter to me.
I almost told her that, but I kept quiet as Edward threw me a look. His ice blue eyes, so much like his mother’s, begged me to hold my tongue. I did. He was doing this for me. I could keep quiet for him.
“Mom, you know that’s not true.”
It continued on in that vein for another fifteen minutes and I kept my cool. Right up until she was no longer toeing the line, but jumped right across it.
“Have you considered that she might be pregnant and that’s why she’s so eager to get married?”
Edward closed his eyes, a pained expression on his face, but he didn’t say a word. I slid off the seat, staring at her.
“Are you crazy?” I demanded, past the point of caring.
Claire looked triumphant. “I’m just cautious, like a good mother. Just looking out for my boy. After all, that’s a thing with your family, isn’t it? Getting knocked up so the guy will marry them?”
I stared at her, stunned, and it took a moment for the dots to connect. “You had me investigated.” My voice shook as I forced the words out. My hands did too, and I pressed them against my sides to keep from reaching out and throttling her.
“Of course.” She looked vaguely surprised that I hadn’t already realized that.
“In what kind of world do people do that sort of thing?” I demanded. “I haven’t hidden anything from Edward. All he had to do was ask and I’d tell him the truth.”
My cheeks burned, but there was shame mixed with anger. That wasn’t entirely true. I had hidden things from Edward, but they hadn’t been about my family. He didn’t know that I’d posed for his youngest brother, Flynn...or that Flynn and I had slept together. While the sex had taken place before I’d met Edward, most of the modeling work hadn’t. His younger brother, Cody, knew everything, but I’d kept it all from Edward, not wanting to ruin what we had, or turn him against his brother.
“In my world, we do whatever it takes to keep our family from being taken advantage of, but, of course, you wouldn’t understand that.” Her eyes burned like blue steel and she lifted her chin, staring down her nose at me. “Sure you can’t be that surprised by my assumption. Other than the fact that the women in your family have an atrocious time telling men no, there’s little to be learned.”
“Watch it.” Warning underscored my voice and I fought to keep my tone level. Coming after me was bad enough. Going after my family was something else.
“It’s only the truth.” She looked around and moved over the small drink service set up in the corner, pouring herself a small glass of sherry. “Your mother had to drop out of college the first semester and marry your father. Your brother, Duncan, was born six months after they got married. Doesn’t take a math whiz to add that up.”
“Stop.” I spoke through gritted teeth.
Claire laughed. “At least she attempted to go to college. Her mother never even finished high school, did she? Then there’s Catherine. Pregnant at eighteen.” She shook her head. “Do her boys even have the same father? How long before the youngest follows in her family’s footsteps?”
“Mother, that’s enough.” Edward finally cut between us, but it was too little, too late.
I was already leaving the room. It was either leave, or cause a real problem when I punched my future mother-in-law right in her smug face.
At the door, I paused and looked back. “I’m not pregnant. And for the record, I’ve already finished college. Top of my class, on a full scholarship. And yes, my mom did drop out of college because she was pregnant, but you know what? She’s still married to my dad.” I paused a moment and then gave myself permission to be a little mean. “As for Catherine, no, her sons don’t have the same father, but may I remind you, that neither do yours.”
Claire’s face went white, then red.
“What my family does have that yours doesn’t, is we’re happy and we love each other, because that’s what families do. Can you say that about yours? Can you honestly say that you’re happy? Because, from where I stand, it looks like you’re determined to make everyone as fucking miserable as you are.”
Leaving the sound of her outrage and Edward’s conciliatory voice behind me, I headed out into the hall. I had only one goal in my mind. Get as far away from Cla
ire Bouvier as I could.
I only made it ten feet.
My desire to escape was cut short as I nearly walked into one of the last people I wanted to see. Flynn McCreary was Edward’s twenty-five year-old half-brother and just as gorgeous as the two Bouvier boys. Dark brown hair, cadet blue eyes and a lean body that I could picture all too well.
At the moment, a familiar smirk twisted his beautiful mouth and I knew he’d heard at least part of my little tirade. While my outbursts towards Claire generally exasperated Edward, Flynn seemed to find them amusing.
Wearily, I sighed. I was so not in the mood to put up with his shit. “What are you doing here?”
“Dropping off a portfolio for Edward.” He held it up, displaying an oversized reddish-brown folder wrapped with rubber bands. He grinned when I glared at him. “Don’t worry. You don’t know the model.”
I wondered if it had been the beautiful, curvy woman I’d seen him with the other day. The woman he’d been fucking just days after he’d told me that he couldn’t get me out of his head. My already churning stomach flipped.
He shoved off the wall and came toward me, sharp white teeth catching his lower lip, tugging on it for a second before he slowly released it. The motion made me think about how that beautiful mouth had felt moving against my own. Against my body...
“You put up with her bullshit longer than I would’ve expected you to.”
I had to run the sentence through my head twice before it made sense. Behind me, I heard Edward’s soothing voice competing with Claire’s strident one. I tensed as I heard a particularly disparaging comment.
Flynn looked disgusted. “Why do you put up with that shit?”
“Because she’s Edward’s mother.” Shouldering past him, I took the hall that would lead me to the western wing—and the greenhouse. Other than the study and the bedroom, that was one of the few places here where I could relax. I desperately needed to relax.
