You Complicate Me

by Isabel Jordan

  “Haven’t seen you in here before, blondie. Hey, here’s a nickel. Sit down here with me and try your luck.”

  Grace blinked at the woman who’d just pressed a nickel into her hand. From the scratchy, rough sound of her voice, Grace would’ve estimated the woman was Grandma Ruthie’s age. But voices could certainly be deceiving, she quickly realized.

  This woman looked like the love child of Snooki from Jersey Shore and Sharon Stone in Casino.

  Grace imagined she was in her late fifties, though her impeccable makeup and trim figure (most of which was on display in a skin-tight, fuchsia tank dress) gave her a much more youthful appearance.

  Smiling around a lit cigarette that was hanging precariously from her blood-red painted lower lip, the woman motioned for Grace to sit next to her at a slot machine that had a picture of a cartoon gangster from the 1920s on it.

  “That machine went cold on me hours ago,” the stranger said, “But maybe you’ll have better luck.”

  “Oh, no thank you,” Grace said. “I don’t really gamble.”

  The woman laughed so hard she almost lost her cigarette. “I’m calling bullshit, honey. First of all, it’s a nickel slot, not a high rollers’ table in Atlantic City. It hardly counts as gambling. And secondly, I’ve seen you with my Nicky. You’re a gambler, whether you recognize it or not.”

  Grace had been so distracted by the woman’s raspy voice and teased platinum blonde, curls—which looked to be held in place with enough Aqua Net to supply Bon Jovi for a month in 1987—that she hadn’t noticed the hint of a New Jersey accent in her words.

  Grace took a seat at the gangster-themed slot machine and smiled. “You must be Nick’s aunt, Lucille.” She offered her a hand. “I’m Grace. It’s very nice to meet you.”

  Lucille grabbed Grace’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze before letting go to slip a nickel into her own slot machine. “You, too, sweetheart. Sorry I haven’t made it to any of the family dinners. I guess I’m not what you’d call a people person,” she said, making finger quotes around “people person”.

  She didn’t sound particularly sorry, Grace noted. “I’m sure Nick and Sadie would’ve loved to have you there, but honestly, you didn’t miss too much.”

  Just my family embarrassing themselves like usual.

  Lucille snorted. “They wouldn’t want me there. I was a shit aunt when they were kids. Nicky in particular never forgave me for it. Not that he should.”

  Well, this had certainly taken an awkward turn rather quickly. “Well, um, I’m sure you did the best you could.”

  Her lip curled up on one side. “You’re adorable. It’s no wonder Nicky loves you so much.”

  Warmth spread through Grace’s entire body at the thought of Nick loving her, but she quickly squelched it. Just because she was batshit crazy over him didn’t mean the insanity was mutual. Sure, he wanted to see how their relationship would progress, but love? Not likely after such a short amount of time. So, Grace kept her mouth shut. Lucille, though? Not so much.

  “I was young when my sister went to prison,” she said, not even looking at Grace as she fed her slot machine and pulled the lever. “Immature, too. Not the kind of woman anyone should trust to raise a couple of kids, you know? But too bad for them I was all they had. Maybe I was better than foster care, but probably not by much.”

  Grace’s stomach churned. Poor Nick and Sadie. Orphaned, taken in by a woman who admittedly wasn’t mother material. How awful it must’ve been for them.

  “We didn’t have much of anything,” Lucille went on. “I worked all the damn time trying to keep the bills paid and clothes on those kids’ backs. And that’s all Nicky ever really needed from me.” She shook her head, smiling to herself. “He was such an arrogant little punk.” She huffed out a laugh. “Didn’t need nothin’ from nobody. Always the tough guy. But Sadie always wanted more. More love, more attention. She was real needy, you know? But, me not being a people person and all, I never gave her what she needed.”

  Grace heard the regret in Lucille’s voice and felt a stab of empathy. If she’d been in the same situation, if she’d been forced into a parental role now, could she do any better than Lucille had done? Grace wasn’t sure.

  Lucille cleared her throat. “Don’t get me wrong. I gave Sadie what she needed to stay alive, but Nicky’s the one who gave her what she needed. He raised her. Loved her. Taught her how to be a good person. I was a shitty, selfish excuse for a mother figure, but Nicky…he’d do anything to make her happy. Even somethin’ that wasn’t in her best interest.”

  Grace frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  Lucille swiveled on her chair and looked down her nose at Grace. “I mean he’d let her marry your brother even though it’s the most fucked-up idea in the history of fucked-up ideas.”

  Grace wasn’t sure who she should stand up for first: her brother, Nick, or Sadie. “Well, honestly, it’s not our business. This is between Sadie and Michael.”

  The look Lucille pinned her with was entirely too knowing for Grace’s peace of mind. “That’s Nicky talking. I can tell you would’ve intervened by now if it’d been up to you. You’re following his lead, and I can respect that. But don’t pretend it’s the way you would’ve handled things.”

  No, Grace thought, going with the flow was definitely not how she usually handled things. That was all thanks to Nick. But she couldn’t exactly say he was wrong. There was some obvious merit to letting Sadie and Michael work out their problems on their own.

  “Look,” Lucille said, “I’m not one to beat around the bush, blondie…”

  Understatement of the year.

  “…and I think you would agree with me that this marriage is a shit idea. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with your brother. He’s a cute kid. Seems nice enough. But he’s young. Way too young to get married.”

  “Well, yes, but—”

  “And Sadie’s too young to make a commitment like that. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be making puppy-dog eyes at your cousin—who, by the way, is hot as the devil himself. I made a solid pass at him in the hotel bar the other night, and he turned me down cold. Guess he isn’t into cougars.” Lucille paused to hike up the top of her tank dress. “His loss. But anyhow, it’s up to you to be the voice of reason here, Grace. You’re going to have to talk Michael into walking away from Sadie tomorrow, because she won’t be strong enough to walk away on her own.”

  Grace was at a loss. First of all, how did Lucille, who hadn’t spent one minute with the family so far since their arrival, know so much about what was going on with everyone? Did she have spies in the hotel or something? She must’ve.

  Second, even though she sort of secretly agreed with Lucille, doing anything to interfere with the wedding would be breaking her word to Nick, and there was no way she could do that. She’d never be able to betray him like that. He meant way too much to her.

  Third…Lucille made a pass at Gage? Ew!

  She shook her head. “It’s not up to me, Lucille. If you have something to say to Sadie about her marriage, it’s up to you to say it, not me. I made a promise to Nick that I would stay out of this and let the kids work things out on their own. I’m not going back on my word to him.”

  Grace didn’t actually stomp her foot to make her point, but in her head she did.

  Lucille studied her with a steely-eyed stare that up until that point, Grace had only ever seen Detective Reagan give perps on Blue Bloods. It was like she was looking straight into Grace’s soul. It was terribly unnerving. But after a long moment, Lucille broke out a wide smile that somehow made Grace even more nervous.

  “Thanks, blondie. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. I guess you’ll do, after all.”

  Grace considered herself to be an intelligent person. She was hardly ever at a loss for words. But still, she heard herself muttering, “Huh?”

  Lucille pulled the lever on her slot machine with relish. “I was hopin’ you’d tell me to go to hell when I asked
you to interfere in the wedding, and you did, in your own lawyerly kind of way. Kudos, doll.”

  Grace was still confused. “You mean you didn’t really want me to talk Michael out of marrying Sadie?”

  Lucille chuckled. “Fuck, no. That’d piss Nicky off something fierce. But I had to know if the girl he’s in love with had some integrity and loyalty. You bein’ a lawyer and all, you can see why I was concerned.”

  The lawyer comment barely phased her. Nobody really liked lawyers. Until they needed one, that is. But the girl he’s in love with part really stuck with her. Was it possible? Could Nick really be in love with her? How would Lucille know if he was?

  She quickly kneecapped that thought before it could take root. Speculation was less than worthless, in her professional (and personal) experience. “You played me,” Grace murmured.

  “Like a harp from hell, doll.”

  There wasn’t an ounce of guilt in her voice, either. Then something occurred to Grace. “Why would someone who is a shitty, selfish excuse for a mother figure care about what kind of person Nick may or may not be in love with?”

  One of Lucille’s perfectly painted-on eyebrows raised incredulously. “You really are a lawyer, aren’t ya?”

  Grace raised a brow at her in return.

  Lucille smiled again. “Just because I’m not cut out to be a mother doesn’t mean I don’t love those kids like they were my own.”

  Grace chewed on that one for a moment before saying, “You know, it’s never too late to be there for Nick and Sadie.”

  Lucille looked downright wistful for a moment, but then she blinked and the look was gone. She sniffed. “We’ll see. But I feel better knowing you’ll be there for Nicky when the whole thing falls apart tomorrow.”

  “Of course I…wait, what?”

  Lucille rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. We both know that wedding ain’t happening. Those kids are breaking up tomorrow, even if you don’t do the breaking yourself.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “You’re not a gambler, but I am, and I win more than I lose. Why? Because I make more safe bets than risky ones.” She fed another nickel into her slot machine. “And a breakup tomorrow? That’s a safe bet.”

  Grace opened her mouth to argue, but snapped it shut again, fearing that anything she said would lead her directly into another one of Lucille’s word snares. So instead, she muttered a few nice-to-meet-you’s and hope-to-see-you-again-soon’s before getting up to leave the casino.

  She’d only made it a few steps before Lucille called out to her.

  “Oh, blondie? Just so you know, if you do end up hurting or betraying Nicky? I have people on speed dial who can make bodies disappear for a few hundred bucks, a case of PBR, and a bag of lye. Just so you know. Are we clear?”

  Grace looked for some sign in Lucille’s eyes that she was kidding. After finding none, she nodded and muttered another goodbye.

  Jesus, she thought when she made her way back into the hotel. And she’d thought her family was complicated.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  The sun shone brighter than usual the next day. The flowers in the vase by the bed in her room smelled a little sweeter. Colors looked a little more vibrant. It was a beautiful, beautiful day.

  Or maybe everything was no different than it was yesterday and all of that was just a pleasant side effect of two full nights—in a row—of sweaty, athletic, mind-blowing sex and so many orgasms Grace had lost count.

  Whatever the reason, it was a glorious day…even though Grace had almost managed to make a complete ass of herself with Nick the night before.

  She’d almost said that thing. That thing a woman should never say to a man when he was inside her. That thing that made so many men run for the hills. The memories of her almost-epic failure assailed her against her will.

  He cupped her face in his hands and stared down into her eyes as he slowly—so, so slowly—slid into her, inch by hot, hard inch. “You’re amazing,” he said on a ragged groan.

  She blinked back tears at the reverence, the awe, in his eyes as he looked down at her. “Oh, God, Nick, I love…”

  He stopped moving, his gaze intensifying. “You what?” he asked.

  Grace felt a blush rising to her cheeks as she panicked.

  She’d almost told him she loved him.

  She knew Nick had feelings for her. She knew he wanted her. He wouldn’t be willing to move to LA to date her if he didn’t. But love? It was too soon for that!

  Even though she was 100% sure love was exactly what she felt for him.

  When she stubbornly bit down on her lower lip and remained silent, he pulled back, almost pulling completely out of her. “You what?” he prodded.

  Her mind raced. Well, as much as it could race with him overwhelming her senses like he was. The best way to avoid honestly answering a direct question was to offer up an alternative response that was still true, she realized.

  And reminding a man that she had breasts couldn’t hurt, either.

  So, instead of blurting out that she loved him, Grace arched her back, which shoved her breasts into his chest, making him groan aloud, and said, “I love this. How you feel in me. God, I just want you so much. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

  It had worked, too. To an extent, at least. Grace could tell Nick hadn’t believed that was what she’d intended to say, but apparently her absolutely true statement had been sufficient, because he’d plunged back into her immediately.

  And the best part? He’d maintained eye contact with her the entire time they’d made love. Every time they’d made love, as a matter of fact. No closed eyes, no dropping his head to her shoulder, no glancing down at her breasts, no weird O face. He’d held her gaze the whole time as if he wanted nothing more in the world than to watch her come. It was intense and erotic in a way sex had never been for her before. Maybe because with Nick, it wasn’t just sex.

  Grace silently did the math on when she’d be able to tell Nick she loved him without him thinking she was crazy. Maybe when they were in LA? Certainly not before. But then again, math had never been her strong suit. Maybe she should just…

  “Boy, what in the hell is the matter with you? Are you constipated?”

  And so much for mental math, Grace thought, as every calculation fled in the wake of Ruthie’s words, bringing her back at jarring speeds to the here and now, which was the small room next to the reception hall that had been designated as the groom-to-be’s ready room.

  Michael straightened his tie and blew out a harsh breath. “I’m fine, Grandma.”

  Ruthie patted the cloud of blue curls Grace had spent an hour arranging for her, then started digging through her handbag. “You don’t look fine. I have a supplement in here that could get you going in no time. You don’t want to be all bound up on your wedding night.”

  Sarah brushed a wrinkle out of her silk skirt and frowned at Michael. “Don’t take anything she pulls out of her purse. You’ll wake up the next day with no memory of what happened and suspicious wheel marks across your back.”

  Ruthie rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault you can’t hold your sedatives.”

  “You told me it was aspirin,” Sarah said dryly.

  “An honest mistake,” Ruthie said, and sniffed.

  “And the fact that you tried to drive over me in your chair while I was passed out on the ground?”

  Another sniff. “I might’ve panicked while trying to get help.”

  Sarah’s jaw dropped. “You didn’t get help! You let me lie there for four hours! You didn’t even—”

  Michael shoved his hands through his hair and growled—honest to God growled—like a pissed-off Rottweiler. “Get out!”

  Everyone jumped, but it was Grace who found her voice first. “Okay. We’ll go. Sorry about that.”

  Michael grabbed her arm. “Not you. Everyone but you. Get out.”

  “Michael Thomas Montgomery,” Sarah whispered, aghast. “What in the h-e-double-
hockey-sticks has gotten into you?”

  He looked so lost in that moment that Grace’s heart broke for him. She took her mother’s arm and led her to the door. “I’m sure it’s just pre-wedding jitters, Mom,” she said. “Nothing to worry about. Why don’t you go check in with Gage and dad and make sure everything looks good in the reception hall, okay?”

  Sarah somewhat reluctantly nodded her agreement, and moved aside to let Ruthie roll by on her way out the door.

  “See?” Ruthie said to Sarah as they both left. “I told you the boy’s constipated. No one’s that grumpy when they’re regular.”

  When they were gone, Grace threw her hands up in the universal what-the-hell gesture. “Talk to me.”

  Michael closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then blurted, “Sadiecriedduringsexlastnight.”

  Grace had a quick mind, but that was a little too quick even for her. “Pardon?”

  “Sadie. Cried. During. Sex. Last. Night,” he said through gritted teeth.

  She blinked at him. “She Meredith Grey’ed you?”

  “What?”

  “Season two, Grey’s Anatomy, Meredith cried during sex with…oh, never mind.” Grace shook her head. “I guess that’s not important. You’re going to have to back up and tell me the whole story.”

  Much to my dismay, she thought. The thought of hearing about her brother’s sex life had her choking back a little vomit, but damn it, she was the best man at this wedding. It was her job to put Michael’s mind at ease. Even if his fiancée was crying during sex.

  Yikes.

  She listened patiently—doing her level best to maintain a completely impartial expression—as Michael told her about the conversation he’d had with Sadie the night before. How they’d both opened up and talked about how much they loved each other.

  “She’s my best friend,” Michael said, chewing on his thumbnail like he used to when he was a little boy afraid to get a shot at the pediatrician’s office. “I’m her best friend. So, I asked her if she still wanted to go through with the wedding. She said she did. I thought everything was fine. So, we started…you know…”