by A. m Madden
“The only problem with this dress is I want to see the fabric shred between my hands as rip it off your body. I love this dress.” She wiggled her ass against my slacks, and the effect on me was immediate. “Be careful, Sparky. You keep doing that, and we will be late.”
“What exactly will we be late to?” One perfect brow raised in challenge, and when I shrugged, she turned in my arms. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“Because it’s a surprise.” I loved surprising her, shocking her with weekend getaways or romantic nights at home sans clothing.
“That’s not a good reason. Is it a show? Dinner? Oh, are we flying to Paris again? Or Rome this time?” Her voice hitched at her last question.
“What? No!” I placed a very sloppy kiss on her cheek. “I’ve created a monster. Let’s go.”
The pout on her face the entire time in the elevator and through the lobby didn’t faze me in the least. The more I ignored her, the more she grumbled. Once outside our building, I pulled a black silk scarf out of my pocket.
“What’s that for?”
“Humor me.” Twisting her body, I tied the scarf around her eyes, laughing as her gripes got meaner and meaner.
“Jude Soren, I will not walk around with this blindfold on, or you can forget sex for a week.”
“You don’t scare me, Sparky. You’re all talk, and you’d cave way before I would.” That was a blatant lie. I smacked her ass and led her into the back of the cab.
It was only minutes later when we pulled up to our destination. After paying the fare, I led her out of the backseat to stand beside me on the sidewalk. The warm evening air felt cooler near the river. Without her sight, I watched her tilt her head, trying to decipher sounds and smells to help hint as to where I’d taken her.
“Careful, step up.” Her sexy leg lifted until she felt solid footing beneath her. One by one, I instructed her on what to do with my arm firmly around her waist. The clanging of a bell and the squawking of a seagull caused her to twist her head toward my face.
“The river?” She halted for a moment, then when her heels hit the aluminum dock, she added, “A boat? You’re taking me on a boat?”
“Quiet, Sparky. One more step.” She followed my direction and waited for the next one. I led her to where we needed to be, and paused a few moments longer before I spoke. “Are you ready?” I whispered, allowing my lips to linger on the smooth curve of her ear. Goosebumps covered her exposed flesh despite the warm air.
“Yes,” she said on a nod.
“Now, don’t be mad at me.”
“I’ll try not to, but I can’t promise.”
I had no doubt she’d forgive me. I removed her blindfold and watched as she shook her hair loose while her eyes adjusted to our surroundings. Her gasp and the way she stared at all the eyes staring back with such awe written all over her face meant that I was forgiven.
The dozens of guests applauded and cheered, giving her a few minutes to survey the crowd. Scattered throughout the familiar faces were her parents, mine, my siblings, her friends, my friends, and even Shelly, Chip, and Barbi were in attendance. Although, upon hearing about our engagement, they tried to convince us to have our wedding televised while advertising Ignite Your Spark—which wasn’t happening. Though, they were, of course, the real reason we were there on that luxury yacht celebrating our engagement.
“So much for listening,” she said, throwing her arms around my neck. “Low-key is not in your vocabulary.”
“Since when do I listen? You should know that by now. Surprise, Sparky.” I kissed her long and hard, then pushed her toward those dying to embrace her. I watched with so much pride that I must have looked like a grinning fool. I’d do anything for that woman, and when she adamantly insisted we have a low-key party at José Ponchos for just our friends, I promptly ignored her and planned a proper celebration.
This party tonight was multi-purposed. Aside from celebrating the best thing to have happened to me, she’d be meeting my family. Because of her new job, we couldn’t fly to Sweden as originally planned. And with the wedding only a few short months away, I, in essence, was killing two birds with one stone.
Once we greeted her parents, I took her hand and led her to the Swedes standing to the side, anxiously waiting to meet the woman who finally stole my heart.
“Pay attention, Sparky. I’d like to introduce you to my family.” I waited until I had her undivided attention. “You’ll meet my brother-in-laws, nieces, and nephews at the wedding. On short notice, only my parents and sisters were able to come to New York.”
“Okay.” Her hand clutched mine, and the closer we got to them, the harder she gripped.
When we came before my brood, her eyes widened. “Okay, ready? My mom, Janikke, my dad, Albin. I was named after Mom. My sisters after my dad.” I pointed to my eldest sister, and rambled, “Adela, Agata, Akika.” I glanced at her, and almost laughed at the look on her face. We all looked alike, and no doubt Sparky was noticing the family resemblance. “The youngest of the five are the twins, Alva and Auda. You know I’m the baby of the family. Everyone, this is Brae.” I glanced back to her. “Got that?”
“No,” she said, panicked. She plastered on a nervous smile and turned back to face them. Six women and one man all began babbling animatedly in broken English just as I said, “I told you to pay attention.”
My family surrounded my fiancée like sharks surrounding a seal. I stepped back and left her to them while laughing my ass off. She threw me a dirty look, which I ignored as I walked away.
“That was mean, man,” Luca said as I stepped up to the bar.
“She’ll survive. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.”
Kyle smirked as he leered at my siblings. “Damn, Jude. If you weren’t related to them, I’d tap your sisters, all at once.”
“This boat will be hitting the open waters in a few minutes. They’ll never find your body, you cocksucker.”
Music began, food was served, drinks were in abundance, and through it all, Brae survived. No doubt I’d get a scolding when we got home, but giving her a few orgasms would be sure to get me off the hook.
I took her into my arms. “Do you think you can stand a few more surprises?”
“Gee, I don’t know. Will it matter if I can’t?” Her smile was radiant.
“Not in the least.” I tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear before reaching into my pocket. Her eyes followed my movement. “This is why you require a blindfold.” The giggle that escaped made me laugh. “Happy engagement.”
Her eyes widened like the full moon hovering above us as she studied the key between my fingers. “Is that . . . ?”
“The key to our place in St. John? Yes.” Brae’s eyes filled with tears as she threw her arms around my neck.
“I love you so much.” I swiped away the happy tears rolling down her cheeks. “I can’t believe you bought it. I didn’t even think you liked it.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Sparky. It’s the place where we had all our firsts. It’s where I fell in love with you. How could I not like it?” Pulling her into my arms, we hugged until we needed to rejoin our guests.
Little did she know, I was just getting started. She had no idea what I had planned for the weekend. I arranged for our families to stay at The Plaza and we’d be squeezing all of Brae’s favorite things into the next two days.
Matinee tickets to the best show on Broadway, dinner at her favorite restaurant, brunch on Sunday at The Palm Court, an afternoon of beauty for Brae to enjoy with our moms and my sisters. I’d be taking my father and father-in-law to a ball game. And at last, we’d all meet for dinner at our apartment to discuss wedding plans at the farm. Monday morning, everyone would be going back to their respective homes. Forty-eight hours of socializing was my expiration before I turned back into a horny bastard.
They were all just necessary steps to take toward the one real thing I couldn’t wait for. Yes, for obvious reasons, our wedding day. But it was that night, an
d more so the two weeks that followed, when we’d be back at our cottage in St. John, with no Internet, no phones, no Kyle to bother us—the very same cottage I bought for my bride-to-be.
That was the part I was counting the days toward.
When she’d finally be Mrs. Soren.
When we’d start populating the earth with my offspring.
When we’d begin our own social experiment and watch the spark we ignited develop into a roaring flame.
Our story wasn’t even close to an end. It was only beginning.
Epilogue
Brae
“Since our minister agreed to marry you in the barn, I see hay bales set up in rows for our guests to sit on during the ceremony. Of course, we’ll have white linen fabric over them to protect everyone’s Sunday outfits. How cute would that be? We’ll set it up under the big oak tree, which I can decorate with twinkling Christmas lights.” My mom sighed as she brought her hand to cover her heart. “Brae, you remember how beautiful it looks in October. I already secured the church choir.” Without warning, her face scrunched before she said, “Oh dear, I hope it doesn’t rain. I’m not sure we’ll be able to air out the barn in time if it does.”
Oh lord.
My mother continued to ramble as if someone plugged a speaker up her ass. She hadn’t stopped since we arrived an hour ago. Jude looked like he was about to pass out, and my father looked like he was about to strangle her.
“They’ll sing Ave Maria as you walk down the aisle. So far, for the buffet, we have mac and cheese, my famous fried chicken, and Martha Winfield’s award winning strawberry rhubarb pie. Oh, I think I have some left over in the fridge. Jude, you must taste it.” She scampered out of the dining room before I could stop her.
“I need to milk a cow,” my father said to no one in particular before leaving without a backward glance.
Jude leaned closer, and whispered, “What the fuck is a rhubarb?”
Ignoring him, I tried to hide my exasperation over this whole affair. On one side was my fiancé who wanted as close to The Plaza as he could achieve in bumblefuck New York, and on the other side was my mother who was painting a visual straight out of Green Acres.
“This is all your fault,” I accused. “Can’t we elope? Please?” I begged while rubbing my temples.
“It’s too late for that now, Sparky. Stick to the plan, and tell her she needs to stop bothering you with all the details that aren’t going to happen.” He held my chin to turn my head. “That was the point of this impromptu visit. The quicker you shut her down, the quicker we can leave.”
I sighed and nodded. “Okay. But you don’t know my mother very well. Me telling her to stop planning is as effective as me telling the rooster to stop crowing.”
My mother walked into the room with a heaping plate of pie. “Try it, Jude. It’s absolutely scrumptious.”
He looked to me for help. I snatched the fork, took a bite for myself, and then offered him one to appease his concerns.
“Yummy,” he said around his mouthful.
“The best,” my mom boasted.
Jude cleared his throat and pushed his thigh against mine. “So, Mom. We’re here to tell you everything has been taken care of. Jude and I wanted this to be as easy as possible, and you don’t have to worry about any of the details except your dress and hairdo.”
No sooner were the words out of my mouth when there was a knock on the door. “I know who that is,” she said in a singsong tone. Standing, she wiped her hands on her apron before another knock sounded. “Coming!”
“Oh my God. Kill me now,” I begged when I heard a familiar voice greeting my mother.
“Who’s that?”
“The mayor.”
“The mayor?” Jude set his fork down. “The mayor is here?” He looked at me as if I had three heads—not two, three.
My mother escorted him into the living room, her arm looped through his. “Brae, you remember Mayor Hecht?”
“It’s been a while, but yes, of course I do.” I stood and shook his hand. “This is my fiancé, Jude.”
The men shook hands. “This is such a thrill for me and the town. We all love a party.” Mayor Hecht turned to my mom. “Ellen, remember the quilting festival?” My mom beamed, the mayor looked prideful, and Jude looked dumbfounded. “That was such a glorious day.”
Jude leaned toward me, and whispered. “What the fuck is a quilting festival?”
I swatted his arm. “Shhh!”
“Sweetheart, the ladies guild has already started your family quilt.” Her eyes misted over. “I can’t wait for my grandbabies to be wrapped up in it.”
Okay, I’d heard enough. “So, it was nice seeing you again, Mayor.” I quickly offered him my hand. “We need to get going.”
Jude grabbed my hand with lightning speed. “Nice meeting you, Mr. Mayor.” He couldn’t wait to make the great escape, and I couldn’t say I blamed him.
My dad walked into the dining room right as we were about to leave. “Bye, Dad.” I kissed him on the cheek. “Bye, Mom.” Jude and I power-walked toward the door.
“Wait. Brae, honey,” my mom called from behind us. “The mayor has something exciting to tell you.”
Jude grumbled with one hand on the doorknob. “We were so close.” My head dropped and I had to force myself not to audibly sigh.
The mayor cleared his throat. “We’d like to offer you the VFW for your rehearsal dinner, and of course, I’d be honored to accompany you during the parade.”
“Parade?” Jude looked at me as if I was the one who had suggested it.
“That’s a very generous offer, but I think we’ll skip that tradition.” My mom gasped, I shrugged. Mom, please stop planning we’ve told you a million times we have everything covered for the entire weekend.”
“But sweetie . . .” My mom prodded. “we really want to help.”
“You are by just being my mom.” That statement caused her to smile wide and hug me in acknowledgment.
Without hesitation, Jude said our final goodbyes as he pulled me out the door and shut it behind us.
“Holy fuck! What year is it in this town? A parade? Quilting festival?”
“It’s not that bad,” I said as we both slid into our rental car. After we were here the last time, Jude stated he’d never drive one of his cars there again. Apparently, mud on the tires wasn’t something he cared for . . . and he called me OCD.
“Yes, it is that bad, but it only proves how much I love you that I’m putting up with this shit, Sparky.” At his words, the rooster crowed. I let out a laugh as Jude mumbled, “Fucking cock.”
Jude
From the corner of my eye, I watched my two supposed best friends try to maintain their composure as I took a verbal beating from my soon to be father-in-law.
The list of his gripes went on and on, and it was hard for me to sympathize with any of them.
“Sixteen pallets of oak parquet flooring? Do you know what’s happening to my lawn right now? It’s dying, and I’ll never be able to salvage it.”
Lawn? He calls that burnt brownish patchy stuff a lawn? Regardless, I nodded to pacify him and offered a solution. “I understand, sir. But I couldn’t have our guests ruining their shoes. I’ll have new sod delivered in the spring.”
He released a burst of air through his nostrils. “Two massive tents?”
“We needed one for the ceremony and one for the reception.”
“So, when you said you’d marry in the barn, you really meant this frou-frou affair you invaded our home with?” he asked, pointing a stiff finger toward the classy set up I went out of my way to arrange.
I couldn’t believe they took our promise literally. Yes, we agreed to marry here on the farm, but not inside a fucking red barn where the stench of cows and chickens would make you want to vomit.
I wanted to say, “But, sir, I couldn’t have our guests sitting in stink all day and night.” Instead, I said, “I thought having all those people in the barn would upset the an
imals.”
Kyle snorted, and quickly coughed to cover it up. Meanwhile, Luca turned a new shade of purple as he stifled the hysterics bubbling within him. At my glare, they uttered apologies and scampered out of the guest room we were sequestered in.
Mr. Daniels’ eyes followed their hasty exit, but it was clear he wasn’t done with me. When he began counting off all the other enhancements I arranged for our wedding day—flowers, photographers, band, caterers—I internally sighed. “It’s a darn circus out there!”
Shit, all I wanted was to make Brae happy while making it easier on her parents. This man had a hard-on about my checkbook. I got it, he was a proud man who really never recovered from the humility he felt over almost losing his farm . . . but fuck, chill dude.
The only reason I stood taking this scolding was Brae. She begged, pleaded as recently as last night to elope. It was too late. But I did admit, after we secretly screwed one last time in the pickle pantry before her mom appeared to whisk her away at midnight, she had been right all along.
The door swung open and a boisterous, “Walter!” caused him to jump at the sound of his wife’s voice. “You leave that poor man alone! Go put on your suit! The ceremony is starting in thirty minutes!”
“Crap,” he muttered before walking out the door.
“I’m sorry, Jude. Ignore him. I think he’s taking out the stress over losing his baby girl on you.”
“I understand,” I replied with a tight smile. I didn’t.
She returned a smile of her own. “You look so very handsome. Brae sent me to see how you were.”
“I’m great. I can’t wait to marry your daughter.”
“Well, it’s just about that time.” She walked farther into the room and handed me a note. “It’s from Brae. I’ll give you some privacy and see you in a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
My thoughts immediately focused on my girl. I couldn’t wait to see her, to make her legally mine, to escape all this chaos and hide for two weeks in our cottage, to keep her naked for fourteen days—my list was long.
I just had to get through this day.
