by C. M. Owens
“Stunning,” she finally says, meeting my eyes again. “Do you want children?”
Ethan curses, and I choke back a laugh. “One day,” I say, smirking when Ethan rolls over and buries his face in his pillow again.
His mother, bless her, is dancing from foot to foot right now.
“And is this serious between you and my son?”
“Mother…” Ethan’s tone is warning, but she doesn’t bat an eye, obviously not the least bit intimidated by him.
“It’s still fairly new,” I say awkwardly.
She looks like I just stole her favorite lollipop and fed it to the dog.
“But you like him?” she goes on.
Why is it so hard not to laugh and mock him mercilessly right now? Oh, I can’t wait until I can.
“Yes. I like him.”
Her smile returns, and she beams at me. “Well, then. I’ll be right back.”
She pretty much zips by me and heads toward the door, and I take a seat by Ethan, grinning like the hippo who just found the perfect mud hole. Damn hippos are even in my conscious state of mind now.
He rolls over, glaring at me like he wants to smother me with a pillow.
“Don’t say it. Not one fucking word, Bella,” he cautions.
“You’re such a closet momma’s boy!” I whisper-yell, barely stopping myself from bouncing around in glee.
“No the hell I’m not.”
“Awww. It’s adorable.”
“Bella,” he growls, still glaring at me.
His mother walks in, and I wipe away my taunting grin, trading it for a sweet and innocent grin. Ethan watches her with a wary eye as she nears us with some sort of scrapbook. The second he sees what it is, his eyes widen and he actually pales.
“Mom, don’t fucking bring that damn thing in my house.”
“Ethan Markus Noles. Don’t you use that language in front of a lady,” his mother scolds, and… yeah… I barely stop myself from losing it.
My entire body is shaking with silent laughter, but she doesn’t notice.
“Yeah,” I say, looking at Ethan as I fight with all my strength not to laugh. “Don’t use that language in front of me.”
He mouths, “Fuck you,” and I snort, then cough to clear the trace of laughter from my tone.
“What have you got there, Mrs. Noles?” I muse, smiling over at his mother as she sits down on the love seat.
I go to join her, even as Ethan tries to grab me before I can get up. Fortunately, he’s currently too weak to react quickly enough.
“Call me Arlene,” she says with a broad grin as she flips the book open and thrusts it at me.
Trying not to burst out into a fit of laughter becomes my primary objective when I see the book is titled “Ethan’s Future Wedding.”
“This is very interesting,” I confess as Ethan groans and covers his head with the pillow.
“I’ve been working on it for so many years. I was starting to wonder if he liked boys the way that sweet boy Leo does, since he never brought home a girlfriend. That’s why there’s an entirely different wedding scenario in the back of the book.”
Ethan strangles, and my eyes fill up with tears as I hold back the laughter on the tip of my tongue. Leo would so love to be here for this right now.
“You planned my gay wedding?” Ethan asks in disbelief, though his voice is muffled against the pillow.
“Yes,” Arlene says seriously. “Yes, I did. I was hoping the two of you would adopt as soon as you got married.”
She goes back to work, flipping through the pages as though she’s searching for something, and Ethan squeezes the pillow closer to his face.
Me? I’m in heaven right now. Arlene is freaking awesome.
“But since you’re here, you can see the girl version with all the dresses I’ve clipped out of magazines. Hopefully it’ll give you inspiration. I even have some pictures of Ethan as a baby and a little boy in here too, so you’ll see what an adorable child he was. It’s to give you incentive for children, because he really was the cutest kid ever.”
I soak it all in, letting her tell me about every embarrassing detail of this wedding she wants to take place soon. I also get to hear about all of Ethan’s worst moments.
“Oh, but it was adorable when he found out that the Saylor Moon panties weren’t for boys. He loved them so much, and it broke his heart when his father informed him they were for little girls and not boys. I’m not even sure where he found them.”
“That’s the best story ever,” I say with joyous enthusiasm.
Ethan groans numerous times, but he gives up on his incorrigible mother.
I notice, with some appreciation, all the quilts in all the pictures. Handstitched, beautiful quilts are in the backgrounds, seeming to be forgotten articles, but they draw my eye in.
Arlene is a quilter, and my smile grows as an idea forms. It’s been too long since I’ve met someone as open and sweet as Arlene.
After she finally closes the book and finishes with the embarrassing childhood stories, she stands and walks over to Ethan.
He’s pretending to be asleep now, and I’m in miserable pain from all the laughter I’ve held back when I wasn’t supposed to be laughing. She feels his forehead, shaking her head as she straightens and backs away.
“I’ll go grab some water and a sponge. Then I’ll be right back,” she informs me, which again has me restraining the riot going on inside me.
As soon as she leaves, Ethan’s eyes fly open, and he sits straight up.
“If you don’t stop her from attempting to give me a sponge bath, this thing between us is really fucking over.”
My laughter slips out before I can stop it, and I wipe away the tears as I stand and head toward the bathroom where Arlene is filling up a bucket of some kind.
“I’ll handle the sponge bath, Arlene,” I tell her, ceding this much for Ethan, even though I’d absolutely love to see him running from his mother while she tried to bathe him.
Her cheeks turn pink and her eyes widen.
“Oh. Oh my. I didn’t know you two were so at ease with each other’s bodies already. You said this was new.”
Her eyebrows are up in surprise, and I feel like an idiot. It’s not like I can tell her I let her son fuck me up against the wall before he ever took me out on a date. Have we been out on a real date? Now I’m basically admitting I’m sleeping with her son, after telling her this was new.
“I’m a bit modern,” I state, expecting that judgment to flare up at any moment.
Instead, her eyes drop to my hips, and she grabs them firmly, even shakes me a little. What the…
“You’re going to have to put a little weight on down here if you ever want to have my son’s babies. He was a big boy when he came out, almost split me in two. He’s also a strong man now. I’d hate for him to accidentally break such a tiny thing like you. Put on about fifteen pounds. That’s what I did when I decided to take on his father. He’s tall and strong like Ethan. The extra weight should help.”
I… Words… Yeah, no.
Horrified, I watch her as she drops her hold on my hips and beams at me again. “I’ll let you get to it then. I can’t wait to tell James what a lovely girl our boy found.”
No words. They’re still stuck somewhere in my throat.
With that, she whirls out, telling her son goodbye on her way out the door, and I sluggishly walk back toward the living room where Ethan is watching me with an amused smirk on his lips.
I drop to the couch beside him, putting myself right in front of his waist, and he pinches my ass, causing me to yelp. “Better grow those hips out,” he pokes. “I’m a big man.”
Now he’s the one restraining a laugh.
“Did your mother really just tell me to gain weight so I could handle you? That’s… ew…”
He bursts out laughing, then starts coughing before letting his eyes close and groaning.
“Yeah. Welcome to my world.”
Sex was taboo
in my house, and we sure as hell never talked about it. Hell, if my parents had their way, I would still believe babies magically appear in a mother’s stomach.
My hand smooths over his chest, just as he starts shivering and a new coat of sweat breaks across his skin.
“The chills are almost the worst,” I assure him as I move and wrap the blanket around his body.
“Lucky me,” he grumbles as his eyes stay closed.
As he slowly drifts off, I settle down on the floor in front of him, getting comfortable as I cut on a show.
“No girly shit in this house,” he mumbles, letting me know he’s not fully asleep yet.
Grinning, I flip the channel to some sports channel, and he smirks while keeping his eyes shut.
Compromise… Yeah, that’s going to take some getting used to.
After a while of steady snoring, I head toward the kitchen, and grab a banana to eat as I wait on him to need the trashcan—because he will need it. His house is so plain and sterile. He has a maid who cleans four times a week, so it’s also spotless.
Moving back to the living room, I study Ethan, watching as he sleeps peacefully. When I reach his side, I sit down next to him, and his arms immediately fold around my waist as he rouses from his sleep just a little.
“Thank you for coming,” he murmurs, pulling me closer until he can put his head in my lap.
Idly, I run my fingers through his short, dark, silky hair. He makes a sound of approval, and I stare at the TV as I continue affectionately stroking his hair. Arlene mentioned dinner between her spiels of Ethan’s most mortifying moments.
As much as she seemed to like me, I’m a little worried about his father.
I really hope he’s not as rude to me as Ethan is to most women.
Chapter 39
ETHAN
“So you and Bella are like a real thing?” Maverick asks me as I finish my workout and wipe away some of the sweat.
“Yeah. Why?”
He shrugs, even though there’s a taunting grin on his face. It’s been over a week since I actually got to have sex with Bella. First she was sick. Then I was sick. Hell, I haven’t even seen her since the day after she took care of me all day and night.
She had two doubles to work after that. Then she wanted to spend some time with Angel, and… Well, kids aren’t really my thing so I skipped out on that night.
Now it’s been three days, going on four, since I even saw her, since she and Allie needed some time to catch up, and the very next night I got hit up for poker.
Fucking eh. It’s not like I could tell the guys I needed to see Bella, considering the immortal hell I’ve given them since they got domesticated—which I’m not. At least… Fuck. I’m not, am I?
“Just curious,” Maverick says with a shrug. “You came back acting like we were all too tame for your taste, and here you are without any partying going on and a girl waiting for you at home. Just find it… funny.”
I crack my neck to the side while glaring at him. “She’s not waiting for me at home, and I’m not having this discussion right now.”
Ignoring his mocking laughter, I pull my phone out.
ME: You still coming at dinner tomorrow? Anyway I can squeeze in a date tonight?
Immediately there’s a text, as though she was waiting with a response on hand.
BELLA: Not tonight. I have to get my house clean. And as for tomorrow… Maybe it’s a little soon for a family dinner.
That has me pausing, and I cock my head to the side. She seemed fine with it just last week.
“Read this and tell me what it means,” I say to Maverick, tossing him my phone.
He’s laughing at first, but then he reads it, and his laughter fades as he grimaces. “It means she’s putting on the brakes. She has to clean? That’s a bullshit excuse if I’ve ever heard one. I take it you fucked up?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” I grumble, wondering if this is because I still haven’t met Daniel.
I don’t want them treating me like the hero, when I never would have heard about him if not for Bella. She deserves the praise, and I’m not taking that away from her no matter how much she tries to get me to do otherwise.
“Text her about this weekend. You don’t have a party or anything, do you?” he asks.
“Not this weekend. I cancelled it. But I do have one next weekend, and she’s supposed to be coming.”
“So text her about this Friday,” he says, handing me my phone back.
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
ME: Friday night—you and me.
BELLA: Can’t. Girls’ night. Leo’s boyfriend is opening a club a few towns over. We’re all going to support the opening.
That’s the first I’ve heard about that shit.
“Well?” Maverick prompts.
I blow out a breath while raking a hand through my hair.
“I’ve definitely fucked up somehow, but I have no idea how.”
He frowns while following me out to my car.
“I’m heading over to her house after I make a quick stop to grab a present I bought for her.”
Present? Shit! “Did I miss her birthday or something?”
He laughs then covers it with a cough. “Nah. It’s just something special I picked up for her. I’ll see what I can find out for you.”
He’s going over there, but I can’t?
Fuck that.
Instead of waiting around to figure out what I’ve done, I decide to go home, shower, and then head over to her house.
Unfortunately, when I roll up in my yard, Rye is pulling up at the same time, and he’s… wearing a dress…
It’s lacy, short, white, and… hideous.
“What the fucking hell?” I ask him, choking back a laugh at the insanity before my eyes.
“I need to borrow some clothes,” he growls, his cheeks puffing out. “And a shovel.”
Laughing, I head over to open my door, but I can’t stop myself from snapping a quick picture.
“I’ll kick your ass if anyone else sees that.”
“How did she get you in a dress?” I ask through my painful guffaws.
His cheeks turn red as he glares at me, shouldering by me on his way inside.
“She stole all my clothes, and this was literally the only thing in the fucking house besides her clothes that are way too damn small. It was either this, or get arrested for public indecency. I already almost got arrested for that once. I doubt they’d let me by again. Now give me some motherfucking clothes so that I can go kill my girlfriend.”
“Bedroom. Have at it,” I tell him, still laughing so hard that I have to double over.
Hell, if Rye can manage a relationship with a crazy one like Brin, then anyone can find a way to make it work.
“Can I ask you why you continue to do this?” I ask as I head into the bedroom.
“Because it’s fun when I prank her. Not so much when she gets me back twice as good.”
I lose it when I see him struggling to get the dress over his shoulders, and the pink thong he’s wearing just slays me completely until I’m collapsing to my knees, laughing so hard it hurts.
“The fucking hell?” he snaps, falling over when the dress tangles him up and he loses his balance.
He crashes to the floor with the white, old-school lacy dress that is wrapped all around his head, cursing as he spins in a circle on the ground like he’s trying to wiggle out of it.
“Why… Why are… you wearing… those?” I heave out through heavy falls of painful, somewhat maniacal laughter.
“Damn it!” he barks, still wriggling. “It was the damn pink shit or nothing at all, and this dress is too short for me to free-ball it.”
Words I never thought I’d hear him speak.
Dying. I’m fucking dying. Oh, it hurts too much to laugh this hard. I’m going to need a pain reliever.
“And why do you put up with this?” I ask when he finally rips the dress enough to get it off, and he glares over at m
e as he stands.
It’s really hard to stand here in front of my best friend when he’s wearing a motherfucking pink thong. The anger in his gaze fades as he rolls his eyes.
“Because she’s my person,” he says as though that explains everything.
That sobers me, because I didn’t mean for this to turn deep.
“She gets me—all of me—and she makes me smile when I never thought it’d be possible. Even when she makes me wear a stupid fucking dress,” he says, stifling a grin. “There will be hell to pay for that one though.”
It’s not so funny anymore.
“Besides, when Brin came along, I couldn’t seem to stay away unless I forced myself to. Not that you’d understand. But when it happens, nothing else really seems to matter as much, as long as you quit holding onto all the bullshit.”
I start to speak, but I decide to not get into chick talk, regardless of the fact it’s more tempting than it’s ever been before. It’s not been easy to let Bella work or spend time away from me. But she has. And she doesn’t seem to be having the same problem I am.
Guess I need to do something to change that.
Chapter 40
BELLA
It’s just starting to get dark, and I walk in with more of the fabric squares with pictures on them. I hated blowing off Ethan, but I really want to finish this project. Besides, the more I spend time with him, the less I see him as a hot time. He’s starting to become a lot more to me, and that’s dangerous territory with a guy who has confessed he’s ready to live like he never had the chance to.
Just as I walk through my kitchen, I hear a noise slap the floor, and something else slams into the ground as well. The fabric pictures tumble from my hand as I sprint across the room and head toward my bedroom as fast as possible.
Another loud noise clatters to the ground, and I scream, then clamp my hand over my mouth so that I don’t become the first dead dumbass in the horror film. As soon as I get my door shut, I lock it with shaking hands.