Tiny Threads (Snapdragon Book 1)

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Tiny Threads (Snapdragon Book 1) Page 10

by Jami Denise


  I'd just set the bread on the counter and wrapped them in cloth when the doorbell rang. I was equally nervous and excited. Nervous about how Royal would behave, worried about having Tara and Glenn in the same room, and excited about having everyone in the same room together for the first time in a long time.

  It was technically Glenn’s birthday dinner. Using that as an excuse was truly the only way to get everyone to agree to come over and pretend to get along.

  As mentioned, the family was nuts.

  "I'll get it!" Delaney bellowed as she ran to the door. I smiled. She was the perfect hostess to greet Jason at the door.

  I wiped my hands on a dish towel and removed my apron before following after her. I chuckled under my breath at the sight of my three daughters being just as dazzled as I'd been the first time I met Jason.

  "Girls, ask the poor man inside! Where are your manners?"

  Jason peered over their heads and winked at me before stepping over the threshold and into the house.

  "Jenna, hello. Thank you again for having me. It smells delicious—someone's been busy."

  I smiled. "It's almost ready. Let me grab your coat."

  He handed me a bottle of wine and then his jacket, and I turned to hang it up while introducing him to the girls.

  "It's a pleasure to meet you,” he said, smiling kindly. “Your mom sure didn’t exaggerate about how beautiful you are. I shouldn't be surprised; you all have your mother's smile."

  The girls muttered and fidgeted nervously under his compliment. They weren't strangers to being told they were pretty, but they were under the same spell I had been the first time I spoke to Jason Hutchens.

  The man had a gift.

  "What about my wife’s smile?”

  I stiffened when I heard Royal’s voice behind us. There was a definite tense edge to his voice. That was not the first impression I wanted Jason to have of my husband, so I turned quickly and begged him with my eyes to be nice.

  Thankfully, Jason wasn't fazed by Royal's attitude one bit. In fact, he didn't miss a beat and swiftly moved forward, hand out.

  "You must be Royal. Jason Hutchens."

  I watched, mortified as Royal stood stoic, arms crossed over his chest and lips tight. I wanted to kick him in the shins and then twist his testicles until they looked like raisins.

  I was horrified.

  Jason took it in stride. His hand went back to his side and a genuine smile pulled at his lips. There was understanding in his eyes, something I’d never understood about men.

  "I really appreciate you inviting me to spend the evening with your family."

  "I didn't invite you. My wife did."

  My hands shook. God, I was so embarrassed. One night. That’s all I asked for was one damn night for everyone to act normal. It wasn’t a lot to ask, but apparently for my husband, it was.

  He was acting like a jealous ass. Jason was far from a threat, but I guess to him, he was. Yes, Jason was an attractive man, but I had no interest in him whatsoever. There wasn’t even a moment of attraction for me. We hit it off but in such a friendly way.

  I was trying to set him up with my best friend for crying out loud!

  "Yes, well, just the same. I'm glad she took pity on a lonely old man and offered him a home cooked meal and company. You've married a very special young lady, Mr. Grainger. She's been like an angel."

  "Yes, she is."

  Jason gave him a short nod, and the air swirled around us thick and tense like a testosterone cloud. I felt sick. The girls stood to the side, watching the entire thing unravel with wide eyes. It was like a twisted tennis match—entertaining and bizarre.

  My party was already turning into a disaster. Of course it was.

  "Macy, can you take his wine into the kitchen? Girls, help her get the wine glasses from the cabinet in the dining room."

  They nodded and scuttled off, anxious to escape whatever-the-hell it was going on between Jason and Royal.

  "Let's go into the living room. Glenn and Sarah are already here. Dinner will be on the table shortly. We’re just waiting on Tara and Abbie."

  I led Jason into the living room where he was, thankfully, greeted warmly by Glenn and Sarah.

  While I got dinner on the table with the girls help, Tara and Abbie showed up and I was finally able to introduce Abbie to Jason. I’d been waiting a long time to see the look on her face.

  “And this is my oldest friend, Abbie. Abbie, this is Jason Hutchens.”

  You could hear crickets sing in the silence of the room, but the sparkle in Abbie’s eyes... oh yes, she owed me one. Forever.

  Jason had a little twinkle in his eye as he took in the wonder of Abbie, too. She’s gone all out for the occasion—not that she ever looked frumpy—but she looked gorgeous. Her chestnut hair fell around her shoulders like silk, and her dress hugged each of her generous curves.

  Just perfect.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Abbie. Jenna’s been singing your praises.”

  She lifted an eyebrow in my direction and smiled. “Well, I’ll have to thank her for that later.” She winked and reached for his hand. “It’s really nice to meet you, too. So, Jen tells me you just moved into town...”

  I took that as my cue to let them get better acquainted.

  "Would anyone like something to drink while I set the table? Jason? A glass of wine?"

  He turned and smiled. "No, thank you, Jenna. I think I'll wait for the meal."

  "All right, then, I’m going to finish up in the kitchen."

  I glanced over at my fire-breathing husband, who was burning holes in the side of my head from across the room.

  "Do you need any help in there?" Jason asked.

  "I've got it," Royal snapped before stomping out of the room.

  I mouthed sorry on my way out and followed Royal into the kitchen.

  He stood against the counter scowling, hands on his hips.

  “An old widower, huh?”

  I scoffed. "I never said he was an old widower, Royal. Maybe if you actually listened to me once in a while. Yes, he’s a widower, but I never said he was old. I said older. Why are you being such a bastard? I begged you to be nice, Royal."

  He took two long strides forward until I could feel his breath on my cheek.

  "He's a fucking chump, and he was flirting with you. In my fucking house."

  I shook my head. "He was not, Royal. He's very charming, that’s all. He was flirting with your mom, though."

  That pissed him off, to the point he trembled. Somehow, I had to shut my mouth and get him settled down before he did, or said, something stupid.

  I had to admit, though, that for a moment it felt fantastic having him look at me with such a fierce possessive gleam in his eyes.

  "Jenna, I'm this close to breaking that guy's neck. He fucks with my mom, and it's over."

  I let out a small snicker. "I'm playing matchmaker, Royal. Remember? He’s here to meet Abbie.”

  "Great. That’s not much better, Jenna. The guy is... “He took a deep breath and shook his head.” I don't like him. He's not Abbie’s type."

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed his face between my hands. "Royal, you adorably, stupid man. He is Abbie’s type. Trust. Me. Did you see her reaction? She’s happy."

  He pinched his lips together tightly and narrowed his eyes. "I don't like you hanging out with him. We don't even know this guy."

  I dug my fingers into his cheeks and growled. "Ugh! That's why I invited him over, Royal! So we can get to know him! Be nice, damn it!" I released my grip on his face and patted his chest, giving him a sultry smile and trying to divert the conversation. "Play nice now, and maybe we can play nicer later."

  His eyes sparkled before laying a scorching kiss on me. His hands fisted into my hair, and he pushed his pelvis against mine, forcing me back against the countertop. I groaned when I felt his tongue brush against my lips and opened my mouth, eager to let him in.

  I was lost and ready to abandon my family and our gue
st to fend for themselves. I couldn't even remember the last time we'd made out in the kitchen.

  "Somebody slip some Spanish Fly in the wine or something?"

  Tara's voice startled me, and I giggled nervously against his lips.

  "Beat it, Tara," Royal growled.

  "I saw you kissin'.”

  Royal smiled widely when he heard Lily’s tinkling voice behind us. "Pip Squeak, you get over here and hug Uncle Royal!"

  He bent down, holding his arms wide for her, something he always did. The tap, tap, tap, of her tiny shoes clamored through the kitchen, and then she squealed when she reached him. She wasted no time with the hugs and kisses. It was always the sweetest thing to see.

  "I missed my little bug," he told her. "You look so pretty." He tapped her nose before placing her back on her feet.

  "Thanks. Mama got me a new dress. And shoes!" She wiggled her foot back and forth, showing off the little sandals on her feet.

  Tara leaned in and whispered. "So, where's the hot doc at? I'm dying to check him out."

  "He's in the other room."

  She turned to walk out of the room when Royal whisper-yelled at her. "He's an old man, Tara."

  I smacked his chest. "He's very nice, Tara. Go on. Royal can help me finish getting the food.”

  "Could I help?" Lily asked, tugging at the edge of my dress.

  "Come help me, Pip," Royal said.

  Five minutes later, we all sat around my dining room table.

  "Shall we say grace?" I asked.

  I was grasping. We never said grace on a regular basis. Thanksgiving, holidays, yeah. It just felt like a good night for a prayer as the tension settled around the table like knotted pine.

  "Royal, you should do the honors since we're at your table," Sarah said, laying her napkin in her lap.

  "I'm not saying a prayer. Food's getting cold," Royal grumbled. He went to pick up his fork, but I smacked it out of his hand.

  "I'd be delighted to offer grace," Jason said.

  Royal rolled his hand dramatically, giving him the go ahead.

  "Thank you, Lord, for bringing me to the home of this lovely family, and for the delicious dinner we'll share. Thank you for providing for us, and most of all, thank you for new friendships. Amen."

  "Amen," we all said in unison.

  "Thank you, Jason. That was beautiful," Abbie said, smiling longingly at him.

  "It's all true. It's been a long time since I've been in such good company.”

  Tears pricked at my eyes, and I wiped them away with my napkin. I knew my family was special. We weren't perfect—more like borderline dysfunctional and crazy. We were a little mixed-up, and we all carried baggage, but there was a lot of love underneath the sludge.

  Once the niceties were over, everyone dug into their dinner—except for Laney. Two weeks before, she’d decided to become a vegetarian, so she picked at her green beans and tore into her bread while the rest of us enjoyed prime rib and sinful cheesy potatoes.

  Sarah unfortunately brought up Glenn’s condition and the visit with the doctor the week before. She never did have the good sense to know what was appropriate in mixed company. I had a feeling she only did it because Tara was there. It was a sore subject, and she was uncomfortable as it was.

  Tara would’ve been left in the dark about Glenn and his treatment and condition if it hadn’t been for me filling her in. He refused to talk to her about it when he talked to her at all. It was his stupid pride. He still loved her; I knew it, Royal knew it, and he damn well knew it. The only person that didn’t was the one that really mattered.

  Tara.

  His actions and behavior hurt her to the core. She sat quietly and listened intently, but she didn’t dare look at him. It was so uncomfortable; it always was with the two of them.

  And then there was Royal. He barely offered anything to conversation throughout dinner and had excused himself at least three times to get a beer from the kitchen. Finally, I had had it, so I followed him.

  Except he wasn’t in the kitchen, he was in the bathroom, talking on the phone. I was livid. Not only was he being rude, he was being sneaky, and it sent cold chills up my spine.

  I banged on the door, barely holding onto my composure. "Royal? What are you doing in there?"

  His voice dropped abruptly, but not low enough that I couldn’t hear what he was saying.

  "It's not a good time. We're in the middle of dinner, I gotta go."

  I knocked again, louder and more insistent, getting angrier by the minute.

  "Who are you talking to?"

  "I can't," he whispered, lower than before.

  My nerves were shot. The anxiety over the party—introducing Jason, and then Royal's secret bathroom bullshit—I was about to snap.

  "Look, I have to go. Call the office or come by tomorrow. Bye, Lana."

  He opened the door a moment later, and the echo of my hand hitting his cheek ricocheted off the walls. "You son-of-a-bitch," I seethed.

  He glared, silently, holding his hand against his reddened cheek.

  "You think it’s okay to take a call from her while we're in the middle of family dinner? We have company, Royal!"

  He leaned in close and whispered harshly. "I came to take a piss, and she called, so I answered. Calm down."

  My breath shuddered. He was so full of shit. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but whatever it was, it wasn’t good. My heart raced, and I could feel every pulse in my throat.

  "You said you wouldn’t talk to her again,” I whispered."

  His lips pressed together tight, causing the muscles in his jaw to tick.

  "No, you decided I wasn't going to talk to her anymore."

  His words shot through me like a knife. I stood, staring at him while I tried to digest what had just come out of his mouth.

  Then, the thread snapped.

  "You know what?” I screamed “Go to hell!"

  I stomped past him and locked the bathroom door behind me. So many emotions rushed over me at once, I was faint. How stupid was I to fall for his crap? I should’ve seen what was going on. All the progress we’d made was crap. It was a delusion, my own sad attempt to save something that was obviously a waste of time. My hopes were crushed. Anger didn’t even cover how I felt.

  And he was an idiot. She was working her way back into his life with her bullshit intentions. He either didn't care, encouraged her, or he was just the most ridiculously clueless man on the planet. I was steering toward stupid, uncaring idiot.

  Yeah, we'd taken a few steps in the right direction, but it wasn't nearly enough.

  He'd opened up to me once. We'd had sex more times in the prior month than we had in over six months, and he'd started sleeping in our bed more nights than not—but none of it was enough.

  It was all superficial—Band-Aids, and badly applied.

  I'd been too optimistic—too forgiving and nearly blind.

  He'd gotten away with distracting me with what he thought I wanted—attention. Sure, I craved his attention, but what I needed was to know he truly wanted me—loved me, and was as committed to our marriage and family.

  Kissing, touching, and hurried sex wasn’t going to fix things. We were back at square one as far as I was concerned.

  I splashed some water on my face, wiped it dry, and stared at myself in the mirror. I did not like what I saw. I looked tired, weary, and lost. There was misery and fear written all over me. I wasn’t fooling anyone, especially myself.

  Once I felt like I had myself under control, I went back to my guests and tried to ignore the curious stares as I took my seat. I wasn’t discussing it, no way in hell. I was already freaking humiliated and hurt. I wasn’t in a sharing mood.

  "Sorry about that."

  "Dad left," Skylar said quietly.

  She wouldn’t look at me—her eyes stayed pinned on her plate. I couldn’t look at the other girls or the rest of my family and friends. God, how dare he treat me that way in front of everyone. There was no way they hadn’
t heard us fight. Our house wasn’t big enough to get away with secret screaming matches.

  "He must have had work to do. He's a very hard worker. He has to work so hard," Sarah sighed sadly.

  "It's Saturday night, Sarah. What conceivable reason could he have to walk out on his family at dinner?" Tara snapped, grabbing her glass of Merlot and draining it. I could see her eyeball twitch from where I sat.

  "It's none of your business, Tara. Stay out of it," Glenn said from across the table. "And apologize to my mother for talking to her that way."

  My eyes widened, and I shot a quick look over at Jason. He was shocked, and I didn’t blame him a bit for being put off by the freaking antics. Jesus, he’d never want to be around any of us again.

  "I didn’t say anything that everyone at this table isn’t already thinking, Glenn. And it is my business. We’re sitting at his table for dinner and he leaves without explanation? It’s unacceptable for him to disrespect Jenna like this.”

  "Tara, just stop," I begged.

  "You don’t deserve this, Jenna. You don’t.” She took a deep breath and threw her napkin on the table. “I’m sick of him embarrassing you with his selfish crap.”

  "Oh, she's not embarrassed," Sarah chided. "She knows this is the way it is. He works too much. If she wants these fancy dinners and fancy cars and things, someone has to pay for them, don’t they?"

  "Oh my God, Sarah! Shut up!" Tara barked.

  Sarah gasped and lowered her head. Yeah, it was getting real at the Grainger table. I knew it was coming, I just freaking knew it.

  Tara stood and pointed at Glenn. "That was an insult, asshole. Now you can tell me not to be mean to your mommy!"

  I stood and held my hand out to her. "Tara, calm down."

  Unshed tears finally broke free and traveled angrily down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Jenna. I told you this would be a bad idea. I am so sorry I ruined your evening. I should’ve known better than to think I could be in the same room as the two of them and expect us all to get along."

  She gave me an apologetic smile, teary and sad, before turning to Jason. "Dr. Hutchens, it was really nice meeting you. I'm sorry for... everything."

 

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