by Brinda Berry
He huffs an irritated breath and opens the passenger door of the car for me to get in.
Several miles into the drive, he breaks the heavy silence. “I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole.”
“Yes. You sure are.”
“And I meant that I’m really sorry. I’m a jealous man. I could tell you I have reasons to be, but it’s no excuse.”
I look straight ahead but smile. “No, it’s not.”
“I’m not good at groveling. What can I say to redeem myself?”
“Say you trust me.”
Collin accelerates onto the entrance for the bypass road. He’s heavy-footed in his driving tonight, a sure sign he’s thinking too hard. “I trust you. I just don’t trust everyone else. Do you have any idea how I feel about you?”
I don’t answer. Do I know? I peer at him from beneath my lashes without turning my head. The evening sun shines through his side window, illuminating the planes of his gorgeous face. He’s not smiling.
I wonder if Shawn’s messed me up for life. Rendered me emotionally crippled. I’m unable to trust my own feelings, unable to trust the words of another.
“I’m scared. That’s the simple truth. I want this life so badly. I want to shut the door on my old life and wrap you around me like a cocoon. But I know I have to rely on myself and quit depending on other people. I relied on Gunner for years. And now you want me to rely on you.” I press my hands against my knees and close my eyes.
The car stops and I realize we’re at Collin’s house. He gets out and comes around to open my door. Always the gentleman, even when we’re fighting. He doesn’t say anything but takes my hand and leads me into the house. We walk up the stairs and he drapes his arm around my waist at the door to his bedroom.
“I don’t want you to trust me blindly. I want you to trust me with your eyes wide open because you see who I am. Don’t you see me?” He guides me into his room and closes the door.
I nod, unable to speak. Collin presses me against the wall beside the door and every inch of my body buzzes with awareness. He threads his fingers through mine and gazes into my eyes with an intensity more powerful than words.
“Do you?” he asks.
“Yes.” I’m breathing in little pants, frightened at my body’s response to him. He releases my hands and slants his mouth down on mine, kissing me deep and hard. His tongue tangles with mine in an erotic tease.
Collin moves one hand to my breast, the nipple already pebbled and aching. His other hand glides roughly down my side as if he’s fighting the instinct to explore. A low rumble of appreciation sounds from deep in his throat.
I feel his hand move underneath my bottom and he urges me higher on the wall. My legs instinctively wrap around his hips, placing him firmly in the cradle of my desire. He breaks our desperate kiss and pulls back, carrying me with him to his bed.
“I want you in every way possible. I want you in this bed and out of this bed. Do you understand? I want your happiness more than I’ve ever wanted anything. And I’m going to keep trying to earn your trust until you give it.”
I miss his mouth and I want his kisses again. “Stop talking.”
He tosses me onto the bed and chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.” One corner of his mouth tips and a wicked glint appears in his eyes. “I like this bossy side.” He crawls up the bed and over my body, teasing me with the inches of space between us.
“Collin?” I plead his name and grab his shoulders to urge him closer.
“You tell me what you want.”
“Kiss me.”
He bends his head and kisses and licks the corner of my mouth like he’s tasting an ice cream cone. His lips trail along my jawbone and the tip of his tongue darts out between kisses to taste me.
I can’t help the shudder his teasing elicits. “Collin.”
“Yeah?” His minty breath plays over my lips. His hooded eyes promise me everything I want. His body holds back … waiting.
I feel the heat in my cheeks when I realize I’ll have to voice what I want. “More,” I say. “Kiss me more.”
His tongue sweeps over my parted lips and his mouth slants to kiss me fully. Still, he makes no move to touch my body.
“I want to feel your skin,” I say.
He doesn’t move except for a parting of his lips into a smile. “Are you asking me to strip?”
“Yes.”
He raises up on his knees and tugs his shirt over his head. “More?” he asks, as if mocking my earlier lack of direction.
I sit up and reach out a hand to the waist of his jeans. A blush steals into my face, hotter than an oven on broil.
He grins. “Help yourself. I’m trusting you to take what you want. I’m all yours.”
I suddenly decide it’s all the encouragement I need.
21
Collin
Mom sits across from us and folds her napkin into her lap. The restaurant lighting is good, probably too good for Mom. She’s wearing heavy makeup and her lips look unnaturally plump. Veronica, on the other hand, sits looking so beautiful without makeup, you’d swear she was Photoshop’d.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Mom says while examining Veronica instead of the menu.
Veronica gives her a nervous smile. “Nice to meet you, too.”
“Your family is from St. Louis?” Mom takes a sip of water.
“No, ma’am. Arkansas.” Veronica’s gaze shifts to me. “I moved here recently.”
“What do your parents do?” Mom leans forward as if the answer is so important she might take notes.
“Mom, let’s order.” I feel Veronica’s relief from beside me.
Mom’s manicured red nails click against the stiff menu back. She lowers it to peer at me. “Trout? What do you think? Have you had their fish?”
“I always get their salmon.” I glance over at Veronica who hasn’t touched her menu. “You know what you want?”
“I’ll have whatever you have,” she says in a soft voice.
“Crab bisque for a starter?” I smile at her and put one hand on her knee under the table.
Veronica gives me a grateful smile that makes me squeeze her knee and slide my hand up mid-thigh. A little distraction can’t hurt.
“I’m sure she’s able to choose a meal for herself, Collin.” Mom leans back in her chair and taps her nails on her silverware.
“She hasn’t been here before.” I inch my hand a little higher on Veronica’s leg before she stops it with hers.
Mom widens her eyes and laughs. “Veronica, you are a shy little thing. Raquel—”
“Mother,” I say with a razor edge to my voice. “We’re not going to talk about her.”
She ignores me and looks straight at Veronica as if I’m not at the table. “They’re so different from each other. It’s funny to me that you’ve picked a girl who is a total opposite to the one you planned to marry a year ago. I only wanted to point out—”
My blood begins to bubble. “That’s enough. I—”
“Mrs. Cordova,” Veronica says. “I’m happy to be here, but I’d rather talk about you or me or Collin. I’m not interested in anyone else.”
Mom’s mouth drops and then morphs into a smile that ends in a chuckle. “I think I’m going to like you.”
I close my eyes and exhale. “Now that we have the hard part behind us, do you think we can have a nice lunch?”
Mom looks at her phone and scoots her chair from the table. “If you’ll excuse me. I’ll be back after I return a call.”
Mom scurries off with her bling-encrusted phone.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sass your mama,” Veronica whispers to me with a grin.
“Sass all you want. I’d rather have you sassy than nervous.”
“I thought she was about to ask more about my parents and I was going to have to go into an explanation about my mom and Jerry being in prison and I knew that would embarrass you and then I started to sweat and I haven’t eaten the things on this menu and—”
<
br /> I place my fingers on her lips. “You can tell my mother anything you want and it will be fine.”
“I don’t want you to be embarrassed of me,” she says against my fingers.
I shake my head slowly. “I don’t know why you’d ever think that would happen. Are you judging me by my crazy mother right now?”
Her lips curve into a slow smile. “No.”
“Good. Cause parents are sort of non-refundable. We’re stuck with them.” I look in the direction of the restaurant’s lobby where Mom stands talking on her phone. “And she’s not so bad. Just don’t bail on me. I know you had some horrible things happen in the past. And I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”
Her brows furrow. “I know that.”
I lean in and take her hands in both of mine. “I guess I’m afraid you’ll feel like you can’t handle us and I’ll wake up with you gone. I’m trusting you.”
“I won’t run from us. I promise.” She pulls her hand free. “And look. Your mama’s coming this way.” She places her hand on my inner thigh and lets it slide north an inch.
“You are a very bad girl.” I take a steadying breath as her hand moves another inch.
* * *
Less than two days until we head down to the coast and watch Ace and Malerie tie the knot. I’m not sure why I’m nervous about it. You’d think I’m the one getting hitched in a few days. Once that thought hits my gray matter, I can’t get rid of it.
It’s the real reason I’m nervous.
“Are you sure you want to do it this way? I’m no expert, but sometimes the girl wants to pick out the diamond.” Dylan opens the passenger door and hops out. It’s lunch hour and Dayton’s Jewelers has me down for an appointment.
“Yeah. I think I’m sure.”
He saunters ahead of me and opens the jewelry shop door. “Veronica will like anything you pick out. The girl would take a soda tab and wear it if it came from you.”
“I want to surprise her. Soda tab, huh?”
“If you’re nervous, ask Mal’s advice. I’m not sure why you asked me for help. I’ve never been engaged before.” Dylan strolls down the counter and smiles at the brunette behind the counter. She gives him an interested and somewhat inappropriate smile.
I walk next to him. “Because you have good taste.”
“Taste doesn’t have much to do with a ring. You buy whatever fits the girl. Veronica’s not the type to want something showy.”
“I’d buy her anything she wants. She sure as hell deserves it.”
Dylan places a hand on the glass counter and peers down at a selection of solitaires. “Bud, I think she’s great. But listen,” he says, glancing up at me. “Are you sure about this. You haven’t known her … what … less than a couple of months?”
I ignore his statement. I’m well aware of how quick it seems.
“Excuse me,” I say to the salesgirl who hasn’t moved from her positon inches away from Dylan. “I’m looking for a ring and I’d like for it to be a surprise. I don’t really know what I’m looking for here.”
“Hi. I’m Mariah and that’s what I’m good at. Helping you find the perfect ring.” She takes a corded key from her wrist and opens the glass case.
“Perfect,” I answer, relieved for some positive reinforcement after Dylan’s remark.
“Tell me about the woman. Something about her taste. Does she already wear jewelry you can tell me about?” Mariah waits for my answer with a more professional smile.
“No jewelry.” I frown a little.
“Can you tell me about how she dresses? Maybe she is trendy or classic in her clothing choices?” Mariah looks into the case while giving me time to answer.
I begin to sweat. Veronica’s own clothes from the day I picked her up don’t tell me a lot. Afterward, her clothes came from Malerie’s closet.
“Simple,” I finally say.
Dylan taps the glass. “I can see her wearing something like that.”
I exhale. “Yeah. She doesn’t wear jewelry now, so something … not too big and in the way.”
Mariah pulls out the black-velvet display tray. “You’re lucky. She sounds like she might be best suited with a classic solitaire. Something timeless.”
I nod, grateful things are moving in a better direction.
Mariah pulls a second selection of rings from the case and pushes both trays toward us. “We can look at baguette, oval, or round cuts.”
All the rings appear to be the same to me. Oh, I get the different shapes, but have no clue if women prefer one over the other.
“Not that one.” I point at one in the tray, realizing it’s a ring almost identical to Raquel’s cut. This ring has to be perfectly matched to Veronica. Not a diamond that screams pretention.
So, now I’ve ruled out one of a store full of rings. I pull my collar away from my neck.
“You okay?” Dylan raises a brow at me.
I draw in air. “Oh yeah.”
My fingers tingle and I have the distinct urge to line all the jewelry trays in lines and equal distance apart.
“You can change your mind or do this another time. Maybe we should get a drink. How about it?” Dylan shakes his head at Mariah. “I think we’ll come back in a little while.”
Mariah replaces the displays and locks them up. “Come back and see me when you’re ready.”
“We may be back in a while.” Dylan walks toward the door and gives me an expectant look as I stand frozen at the counter.
What the hell am I thinking?
“Coming?” Dylan checks his phone and glances back up.
“In a minute. I’ll meet you down at Glacier’s Pub, okay?”
Dylan grins, shakes his head, and heads out the door.
Mariah, like a dog on alert, trots over immediately. “Cold feet. It happens all the time.”
22
Veronica
Packing four days’ clothing into one large suitcase should be easy. I examine my list again and compare to the burgeoning case. Four things to wear during the day. Check. A nice dress for dinner. And another dress I don’t remember packing. Check. Check. At least one problem identified. Malerie must’ve stuck in the additional dress. I pull it out and toss it across the futon’s back.
The creamy silk dress I bought for Ace and Malerie’s beach ceremony. Check.
Malerie lifts her head from her phone browsing and wrinkles her nose. “Where are you going to put your shoes? You have to bring another suitcase.”
“No. One checked bag is complimentary. I’m not paying extra.”
She rolls her eyes and throws her head back in mock tantrum. “You are ridiculous. No one takes one suitcase.”
“I’m not going for a month. And I can take a carry-on for shoes. Problem solved.” I smash down the lid of the suitcase and look for the end of the zipper pull.
“Makeup,” she says. “And the sexy lingerie … wait. You have no lingerie. I guess you’re going to my wedding au naturel.” She waggles her brows.
“I don’t have sexy lingerie.” I stop what I’m doing and frown. “No. You’re right. I don’t even have unsexy lingerie. I am a terrible packer.”
My phone buzzes an incoming call and I grab it from my pocket. “Hello.”
“Hey, baby.”
The low, sultry voice is so unexpected, like walking through a field and stepping into an armadillo hole. I turn my back on Malerie and study the screen. The phone number is blocked from display.
I click END and set the phone on the futon with a shaky hand. “I have no idea about the shoes thing.”
My phone buzzes again.
“Aren’t you picking up?” Malerie looks at the phone.
“No. I’ll let voice mail pick up.”
She yawns. “I’d better go home. Ace and I aren’t finished packing and we have to take the dogs to a sitter.”
“Okay.” My nerves scream to keep her with me and then in the next second to push her far away. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
She
gets to her feet and leans in to give me a rare hug. “Shove the shoes in Collin’s bag. You know how guys are. He’ll have extra room.”
“Sure,” I answer with a plastic smile that hurts. “I can do that.”
She gives me an odd look. “It’s going to be fine. And one more thing,” she says while getting to her feet.
“What’s that?” I force each word out.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
“Maybe it’s Collin.” Malerie gestures to the phone. “If he’s like Ace, he’ll get worried if you don’t pick up.”
I snatch the phone up and hope it is Collin. Hope the last few minutes didn’t happen. The phone is warm in my hand and the number from hell itself flashes across the screen.
What do you do when the devil calls?
Malerie gets to the stairs and waves a hand in the air. “Call me.”
“Mal,” I say.
“Yeah?” She pauses on the top step.
“Thanks for everything.” Don’t cry. “I couldn’t ask for a better friend. You’re really … terrific. Special.”
Her expression loses some of its usual toughness and her brows draw together. “You, too.”
“Now, go home to Prince Ace. I’ve got to finish squeezing a couple of things into my suitcase.”
Her throaty laugh at the bottom of the steps does something odd to the pit of my stomach. Makes me feel lucky for this time today.
I stare at the phone for one second before the next incoming call appears. “Hello,” I say as calmly as one can before an impending storm.
“Baby. You had me worried for a minute. I’ve been trying to find you and once I do, you hang up on me.” Shawn’s phone voice, that drawl I once found sexy and loved hearing before falling asleep at night, now fills my soul with terror.
“How did you get this number?”
“It was not easy.” He pauses. “Ah, fuck. I should tell you Gunner is not the heaviest tool in the shed.”
