by Jiffy Kate
“Shit,” Shep mutters, wiping a hand down his gorgeous face. “Settle down.” Exhaling harshly, he rearranges himself in the seat before running a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more. Have I mentioned I like this version of Shep even more than the kempt, tidy version? The more he grows his hair out and lets his true colors shine, the better.
“My house is being painted,” he explains. “The furniture is all covered and it isn’t suitable to spend the night in. Besides, it’s only for two nights and my mother insists we stay there. I’m sorry…I should’ve warned you, but you’re you.” He waves a hand in my direction. “You’ll be fine.”
He obviously gives me way more credit than I deserve. If he only knew exactly how much this is freaking me out and exactly how much I’ve been stressing over meeting his parents and actually having to play the part of his wife, he would’ve warned me. Shit, he might’ve even sedated me.
“Sure, I’ll be fine.” I huff out an exasperated breath, trying to convince us both of the statement. When a semi-sardonic laugh escapes, I lean forward and think briefly about taking my seatbelt off. I’m starting to feel a bit claustrophobic. The air is too still. And this careening tin can is starting to feel too small.
Pressing my palms into my eyes, I will myself to calm down. “Yeah, no worries,” I mutter, more to myself than the man sitting beside me. “I just have to talk about things I know nothing about, while being paraded in front of people I know nothing about, who coincidentally hate me because I’m married to their prize pony. All while pretending to be in love with you. Piece of cake.”
Shep shifts, drawing my attention back to him and reminding me I’m having a meltdown with a captive audience of one. I swear, I see a hint of a smirk and it makes me seethe. As he composes himself and takes my outburst in stride—being his typical calm, cool, and collected self again—I want to smack that smile right off his face.
Whoa, where did that come from?
Get yourself together, Cecelia.
“Our agreement was that we get married. We never negotiated on falling in love,” he teases. “I understand, it may happen regardless, but I won’t hold it against you.” His joking tone makes my shoulders ease a bit, even though I’m still considering bodily harm.
However, when he pulls my hand away from my face and brings it to his mouth, kissing the top, I melt. Whatever tension that had crept in with the knowledge I’ll be facing his parents tonight fades. The feel of his lips on my skin, the way his breath warms the area as it escapes his nose, it becomes all I can think about. But I’ll never let him know what he does to me. There’s too much power in knowledge like that and Shep already has enough of that. Instead, I jerk my hand from his and cross my arms, making him snicker in response.
Does nothing get to this guy?
“Relax,” he soothes. “It’s less than two days. And yes, they’re horrible, but I assure you, you’ll make it out alive. In fact, I’ll guarantee it. I’ll even offer hazard pay.”
That damn cocky smile is back in place and the air in the cabin finally goes back to normal.
I should probably spend the rest of the flight grilling him about his parents and the people I’ll meet at the reception tomorrow night, but I decide instead to soak up as much serenity as I can, while I can.
Shep leans back in his seat, crisis averted, and somehow, I manage to doze off for a few minutes. When the captain announces our descent, I put my seat back in its upright position and tighten my seatbelt.
I’ve read the ascent and descent are the most dangerous parts of flying.
As soon as we’re safely back on land and cleared to deboard, we’re ushered down the steps and out to a waiting car. I feel like I cheated on my first flight. I didn’t have to wait in long security lines or deal with a swarm of strangers. There was no one elbowing me the entire flight. Well, I did have to put up with Shep’s charm and sex appeal, so that makes up for some of what I missed out on.
However, this plane-side service is something anyone could get used to, even me.
“I still can’t believe you’ve never been to Dallas,” Shep says as we settle into the back seat of the sleek sedan. “It’s not even that far from New Orleans. Traveling was how my fucked-up family survived. I mean, we didn’t spend our vacation time together but it was still an escape from our everyday lives. How do normal people manage?”
I don’t take offense to his question because I can tell he’s genuinely curious. He has absolutely no idea what it’s like to be not-rich. And, although I hate the word normal, because who has the right to decide what it means, I answer him.
“Vacations were a luxury we couldn’t afford,” I admit. Being vulnerable in front of Shep is starting to feel easier and I’m not sure if I should be worried by that, but I just go with it. “We felt lucky just being able to drive to the beach in Alabama for a couple of days during the summer. Managing, as you put it, is what we simply consider living. If you don’t know what you don’t have, you don’t miss it.” I sigh, leaning back into the seat and feeling the exhaustion of a long-ass day settle over me. “I’ve always wanted to travel, though. I’d love to see the world but that’s pretty much impossible at this point.”
“Why do you say that?” Again, I can tell he’s truly interested. I don’t usually like being the focal point of a conversation, but with Shep, I oddly don’t mind it as much.
“Because, I run my own business and have only one other employee to help out. Also, there are these things called bills and responsibilities I have to take care of. It’d be incredibly selfish for me to travel—”
“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.”
“We need a honeymoon anyway, right?” he asks. “You pick the place and I’ll take care of the arrangements.”
“You’re not listening to me. I can’t abandon my life to go traipsing across the globe with you. Gah, you really are clueless sometimes.”
When I feel Shep stiffen beside me, I turn to look at him. I’ve obviously hit a nerve because his body language just made a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn. His face that was casual and inquisitive is now devoid of emotion and his relaxed posture has been exchanged for rigid and cold.
I instantly miss the way he was before and I feel terrible for causing this kind of change in him. I want the happy, teasing Shep back. The guy with the megawatt smile and eager conversation. The man I married.
Before I can apologize, though, the car stops. When I look out the window to see where we are, I know immediately we’ve arrived at Casa de Rhys-Jones. It’s not a house. No, that’s far too menial of a description for what I’m seeing. It’s a freaking mansion. Seriously, there’s no other way to describe it. If it wasn’t so late at night, I’d expect a line of people waiting outside to pay admittance for a tour.
Shep steps out of the car and offers me his hand, which I accept, not just because I need help out of the car, but also because I need something to ground me.
What has my life become?
I feel like I’m in some weird movie or alternate universe.
“The house is dark so, hopefully, my parents are in bed,” he says, sighing in relief as he shoulders both of our bags and we walk up to the massive doors. “Let’s keep it quiet. We might be able to avoid the Spanish Inquisition until morning. My mother and father are scary enough during the daytime but if they’re awakened in the middle of the night…” He shivers rather than filling in the blank and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
“Spoken like someone who’s been caught sneaking in a time or two,” I whisper, trying to keep the mood light.
A half-smile appears and I’m grateful. “You could say that.”
Once Shep uses a keypad to unlock the front door and quickly disarms the security system, he leads me inside and places our bags at the bottom of a massive stairwell. I mean, I assume it’s massive. I can’t see the entire thing because of the darkness but a staircase in a house like tha
t would have to be huge.
“Shit.”
The curse coming from Shep surprises me but when I see what he sees, I want to repeat his sentiment.
“They’re awake, aren’t they?” I ask, timidly, already knowing the answer when I see the dim light coming from a room to our right.
“And they’re waiting for us.” He grabs my hand and starts walking down the hallway. “Let’s get this over with.” When he pauses and grabs both of my hands, there’s a desperation in his eyes and tone as he whispers in the darkness. “I just want to say thanks for doing this and I apologize in advance for anything my parents do or say this entire weekend. Promise you won’t hold it against me…or divorce me before we even get started.”
There’s a laugh that tries to bubble up inside me. I don’t know if it’s hysteria from the stress of this whole ridiculous situation or pity for the man in front of me, but I nod my head and squeeze his hands. “Okay,” I assure him and watch as his shoulders visibly relax.
He turns, obviously giving himself a mental pep talk, before reclaiming my hand and striding into the room with confidence.
The massive space we step into could only be labeled as a sitting room because every piece of furniture in here, with the exception of a few small tables, is a chair or sofa. There’s literally nothing else to do in here but sit. In the corner of the room is an unlit fireplace and standing in front of it is a man who I can only assume is Shep’s father. To his right, a woman sits on a chaise lounge, staring icily at us. Both of them are drinking martinis, as if it’s the most natural thing to do at this time of night and I feel like I just stepped into a horror movie.
Again, that inappropriate laughter is back, and I have to tamp it down.
“For fuck’s sake, what are you, The Addams Family, now?” Shep spits out before flipping the light switch on and saying exactly what I was thinking. If I wasn’t scared shitless, I’d let the laughter spill out. “Enough of the theatrics, please. You’re being ridiculous.”
I appreciate Shep’s candor with his parents, but my mama would tan my hide if I spoke to her like that, even to this day.
“We can’t enjoy an evening cocktail while we wait to meet our new daughter-in-law?” his mother asks, batting her eyelashes. I really try not to judge people before getting to know them, but a fool could see this woman is a snake. And a manipulative one, at that.
Shep rolls his eyes before turning to me and grabbing my hand. “Mother, Father, this is CeCe, my wife. CeCe, these are my parents, Phillip and Jane.”
“Hello,” is all I manage to get out, but it sounds clear and confident. To my ears, at least.
Score one for CeCe.
Shep’s mother walks over to me, ignoring her son, and gives me air kisses on both of my cheeks. I should’ve expected that, I guess, but it still catches me off guard and I end up standing there, frozen like a statue, side-eyeing Shep.
She then takes a step back and makes no attempt to hide the fact she’s assessing me. With a fingertip on her chin, she looks me over—up and down, from head to toe—before giving me a tight smile. “So lovely to meet you, dear,” she says before turning to Shep. “Since the reception is formal, I assume she’ll need to go shopping tomorrow.”
Heat floods my face in embarrassment but Shep is quick to come to my defense. “You don’t have to worry, Mother. I’m looking forward to spoiling my wife in many ways this weekend.” I’m shocked at the suggestive tone he takes with his mom but it’s not enough to stop the warm feeling in my belly. I know how it feels to be spoiled by him in the bedroom and I’d be lying if I wasn’t looking forward to experiencing that again.
“Of course, you are,” she mutters before returning to her drink and chaise lounge.
When his father looks me over, it’s in the same manner as his wife but instead of feeling like I’m a disappointment, I get the impression of quite the opposite. Ew. Before he can get much closer, Shep puts a possessive arm around my waist, pulling me into his side, as if to say mine, like he’s staking his claim.
Yeah, I’m definitely freaked out now.
Shep turns me toward the room’s exit. “We’re going to bed. We’ll see you sometime tomorrow.” His parents say nothing in response. No “goodnight”, “sleep well”, nothing. They just go back to their weird sitting and standing.
This is truly some Twilight Zone-shit.
I don’t think I start breathing again until we’re up the staircase, which was massive, and in Shep’s room with the door closed. I’m using the word room loosely, of course. It’s more like his own wing of the mansion. It’s a huge space with a couple of different sitting areas that ultimately surround what I’m guessing is a California king bed. I would’ve killed for this kind of space while I was still living at home but I also imagine it must’ve been terribly lonely for anyone to grow up here. There’s nothing cozy or personal. Distant parents and no siblings—no wonder Shep has little concept of what commitment or family means. I’m thankful he found Maverick and had him as a positive influence.
“Are you okay?” His voice is quiet, like he’s bracing himself, expecting me to freak out or have another meltdown.
“I am, but I have a question.”
“I’d be worried if you didn’t,” he says with a small laugh.
“What was that thing…with your dad…”
He immediately shakes his head. “A warning. He’s never touched anyone I’ve been with, at least not to my knowledge. Unfortunately, he’s known to struggle with keeping his hands to himself around beautiful women, so just wanted to give him a reminder.” It’s so matter-of-fact that it makes me cock my head in disbelief. “If he makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, at any time, you tell me. Understood?”
His tone brooks no argument and the look on his face tells me he’s dead serious, so I immediately nod my consent.
“The bathroom is down the hall that way,” he says, pointing. “Go ahead and get ready for bed. We’re going to need a good night’s sleep. I can only imagine what is waiting for us tomorrow.”
I grab my bag and quietly walk to the bathroom. Part of me hates leaving Shep alone right now, he’s obviously bothered by all of this more than he would ever admit. But the other, more urgent part of me, really needs a shower to wash away this crazy day. While bathing, I try to wrap my brain around this insane situation I’m in. I don’t regret the initial agreement between Shep and me, but I’m starting to doubt my ability to pull this off.
There’s always been this part of me that feels like I don’t fit in. I wasn’t popular in high school and never went to college. My three closest friends, Cami, Carys and Avery, I met once I was living on my own and finally feeling like the person I was meant to be. Now, though, being thrown into a world I thought only existed on Bravo TV, all my old insecurities are resurfacing. At least I’ll have Shep’s help to navigate my new, temporary surroundings and he really does seem to want to make this as easy as possible. I just hope it’s enough to survive the weekend.
Things will be back to normal once we’re back in New Orleans, I tell myself. But even I can hear the doubt in that statement. Who knows what the next year will hold?
Once I’m clean and dressed for the night, I make my way back to the room, coming to an abrupt stop when I see Shep stretched out on the bed.
He’s shirtless, only wearing plaid pajama bottoms, and he’s reading a freaking book.
A mother trucking book.
And he’s wearing glasses!
This must be a cruel joke.
How did I not know he wears glasses? I thought I remembered every detail from our weekend together, but I guess the shock of how perfect he looks like this rotted a part of my brain. It’s probably a good thing, now that I think about it. If I would’ve remembered this version of Shep, I never would have gotten over him because I am now. Over him. Totally and completely.
I just have to be married to him for a year. And sleep in the same bed tonight and tomorrow night.
No
pe, I can’t do it.
I’ll have to pick one of the millions of couches in this house and sleep there because there is no way I can sleep next to this man and not want what we had two years ago.
Not possible.
“Are you going to join me or do you plan on sleeping standing up?” His voice startles me and I try to ignore the look of amusement spreading across his stupid, gorgeous face.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admit.
His amusement quickly shifts to something more serious.
“Why not? We’re just getting started. You haven’t even given it a—”
“I don’t mean the marriage,” I say, ending his momentary panic. “I mean this sleeping arrangement. I can’t sleep next to you. You know, in a bed.” I’m talking with my hands now and I know I look ridiculous, but I can’t help myself.
Shep carefully places a bookmark in his book and places it and his glasses on the nightstand before gracefully climbing off the bed. I swear he’s moving in slow motion as he walks over to me and I try really hard to swallow the lump in my throat. When he reaches me, he simply grips my hand and leads me to the opposite side of the bed.
“Are you nervous about consummating our marriage?”
Umm, what? Is that what’s happening?
“Shep, I’m not having sex with you here. Are you crazy? In your parents’ house where they can hear or maybe even watch! A place like this probably has cameras in every corner. No, not happening.”
Laughter fills the room and I’m mesmerized by the movement of his Adam’s apple as he tips his head back. I’m also confused as to why he’s laughing.
“There she is. There’s the woman I married.” His large hands cradle my face. “Relax, CeCe. I have no expectations of sex this weekend. I only said that to get a reaction from you because you’re thinking too much.”
“You don’t know that.” My jaw juts out to emphasize my stubbornness.
“I do know that. When you get quiet, it means you’re overthinking things. You need to loosen up and I hear getting laid is great for that, but if you’re not ready, I can wait.”
