Now a hundred, maybe even two hundred retorts came to mind, but it was too late to say any of them.
I could have said, Yeah, it’s called disgust.
Cody, don’t you know what annoyance is?
It’s exasperation because Flynn is nothing more than a spoiled child.
But even I knew they were feeble attempts to cover the confusion, because I didn’t know what look he was talking about. Not exactly anyway. The way I felt about Flynn, around Flynn, was so damn confusing.
Worrying my ring, I sat there staring at the bright stone and trying to understand just what it was Cody thought he saw, trying to understand what it was I felt when Flynn kissed me. Something I knew I didn’t feel when Edward kissed me. It was a mix of frustration and heat and…need.
The word whispered through my brain and as soon as it did, I shoved it away.
I didn’t need Flynn. I didn’t need anything from him, except for him to give me the pictures and then leave me alone.
As if on cue, my phone chimed. Looking around, I saw that we were still a good thirty minutes away from Edward’s elegant home, trapped in the concrete canyons of the city. I pulled out my phone and slid Paul a look from under my lashes before I read the text.
The pictures are mine, Tennessee. They’re in good hands, so you can relax. But I’m not giving them to you.
I wanted to lash out. I wanted to call him back and scream at him, demand a straight-forward answer as to why he was determined to make things so difficult.
Instead, I deleted the message and tucked the phone away. I wasn’t conceding, but rather giving myself time to regroup and plan my next attempt. My dad had once told me I had a way of getting the things I wanted because I simply didn’t give up. This wouldn’t be any different. Somewhat calmed, I focused on the rest of the evening ahead of me.
I thought I’d chase everybody out of the kitchen and make Edward dinner myself.
We could listen to something low and bluesy. Have some wine. Maybe dance.
Whatever it was Cody thought he didn’t see? It didn’t matter.
I was in love with Edward. I wore his ring.
We were getting married.
That was what mattered.
That was all that mattered.
***
I felt somewhat serene as I entered the house, shooting Paul a smile before I closed the door behind me. The smile wobbled, crashed, fell as a laugh echoed through the house. The sound of that laugh was like an icepick jabbing into my ear and I was tempted to disappear back outside.
I didn’t though.
I lived here, dammit. I wasn’t going to let my insecurities around Stacia Vanderbilt get to me. Instead, I mentally squared my shoulders and strode farther into the house, stopping in the door of the sitting room when I saw them. Edward was standing close to the fireplace, Stacia sitting on the couch, her lovely, long legs crossed, a coy smile on her face. She leaned forward, gazing at him with those wide, near-black eyes.
Edward saw me and his face lit up.
Hers didn’t.
Within seconds, that coy smile was replaced by a familiar sly one, not that Edward noticed as he came around the couch to greet me. “Sweetheart.” His mouth pressed to mine, quick and soft, before he pulled back. Mustn’t be overly affectionate in front of guests. “Stacia dropped by.”
“So I see.” Southern manners don’t die easily so I gave her a polite nod and smile while I seriously considered the repercussions of grabbing Edward and hauling him to me for a long, deep kiss.
“Gabriella.” Her eyes ran over the nice, but simple jeans and blouse I’d chosen for the day.
I hadn’t planned on doing much, so it wasn’t like I’d needed to dress up. One of the benefits of being self-employed was setting your own dress code for regular days.
“You look tired, my dear. The wedding plans wearing you down? I hear you’re doing a lot of the work yourself.”
Most of the people I knew would’ve sounded impressed by that rather than patronizing. Still, I didn’t take the bait. “No. I’ve just had a crazy day working, that’s all.”
“Working.” Edward stroked a hand down my back. “Did you pick up another client?”
“Short term gig.” The lie came too easily and I realized I hated myself in that moment. I used to pride myself on doing the right thing, not the easy thing. Some days recently, I didn’t even recognize myself. I couldn’t even bear to consider what my parents would have thought.
“But it will look good to future employers,” Edward said, catching my hand and squeezing it. “Any experience is good. Come, sit down. A congratulatory drink is in order.”
As Edward led me around to the couch, Stacia pinned me with a look. “What sort of work did you say you did again?”
“Freelance writing.”
“Reporting?” Her brow arched in an elegant tilt.
“No. Ghostwriting here and there, copywriting. That sort of thing. It just depends. I’m writing under an NDA right now so I can’t discuss it in any detail.”
Confusion crossed her face and I could tell that she didn’t like it. “An NDA?”
“Non-disclosure agreement,” Edward clarified. “Common enough in the business world.” He gave me a glass of wine and bent down to kiss me.
I teased the seam of his mouth with the tip of my tongue and caught the surprised glint in his eyes as he straightened.
“I’m proud of you.”
I smiled at him and, as he walked back to his place by the mantle, I told myself to relax. Everything was fine.
***
It wasn’t fine.
It really, really wasn’t.
After subtly letting it be known how famished she was, Stacia ended up getting herself invited to dinner, which ended up being served in the small dining room because it was so informal, so much easier to talk. With her to Edward’s left and me on his right, she managed to commandeer the conversation and I found myself smoldering as she tugged out details about our trip to Tennessee and made one cutting remark after another, all of them disguised as witty little quips.
“Farmers…imagine.” She laid her fork on the table and leaned back. She lifted her wineglass in hand and looked at me. “I’ve never known a farmer, Gabriella. What was it like, growing up like that?”
Edward opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off, tired of it. Tired of all of it.
“I had two parents who loved me. I have three sisters and two brothers, so I was never lonely. I know exactly what it’s like to have strawberry shortcake when the strawberries were just harvested and what it’s like to have a salad right after my mom and I picked everything out of the garden. What’s it like?” I shrugged and looked down at my plate that had most of the potatoes and the steak I hadn’t been able to finish. My family hadn’t been the only farmers in our area, but we also hadn’t been the majority either. But even with all of the richer kids, and the normal teenage bullying that went on, no one had ever tried to make me feel ashamed of what my family did. “I have to admit. It’s pretty amazing.”
Her gaze held mine and then fell away when I refused to back down. Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t done yet.
I leaned forward and smiled at her. “You know that Kors purse you’re carrying? It’s leather. Leather doesn’t exist without farmers. They raise the cows it comes from.” I nodded at her plate. “That steak? From a farm. The potatoes and asparagus? From a farm. Your pretty leather shoes? From a farm. Cotton? Silk? All of those fruits and vegetables you eat. Farms. You’re surrounded by the things a farmer provides for you. So if you want to look down your nose at people like my family. Go ahead. See how long you’d survive without them.”
The silence that stretched out for the next ten seconds seemed so much longer.
Blood rushed to her face, turning it splotchy.
I could count off the very beats of my heart.
Then she laughed. It was harsh and false and the sound was so sharp, I almost flinched. “Really, Gabriella. What makes you
think I’m looking down my nose? You’re so sensitive.” She reached over and touched Edward’s hand, gripping it tightly. “Sure you know I didn’t mean any offense, Edward.”
“Of course.” He patted her hand before looking at me. “Darling—”
“Don’t.” I pushed back from the table, feeling my cheeks heat up with anger. How dare he try to defend her? “I’m not a child, Edward. I know when someone intends to be offensive. You always want to believe the best of people, Edward, and I love that about you, but please don’t tell me that I’m not hearing what I know I heard.”
He lapsed into silence, looked at the table instead of at me while Stacia gave me a cool, glittering stare. At least he’d tugged his hand from hers.
Looking down at Stacia, I spoke softly, “You’ve mocked my accent, and I barely have one. You’ve asked if my family walked around barefoot or if they wore overalls for formal events. But you meant no offense. Then you claim you asked simply because you know so little about my kind of people. Maybe that’s true. Maybe you aren’t cruel, just ignorant. And if that’s the case…well…” I smiled and then unleashed one of the southern woman’s most cutting insults. “Bless your heart.”
I doubted she or Edward understood just how much I’d insulted her just then. And I didn’t care.
***
I was still awake when Edward came in.
Not much time had passed, but it had been long enough for me to know he hadn’t simply told her to leave and come after me. I feigned sleep. I was too scattered to turn to him, too angry with Stacia and his blindness towards so many things.
And I was angry with myself too.
She had been there solely to flirt with him. I’d known that. I’d seen it all through the evening and while Edward had been oblivious, I definitely hadn’t been. I’d noticed, but it hadn’t affected me the way it should have and I’d known that too.
I was more pissed off about the constant jabs she’d made at me and my family than the way she’d stroked her hand down Edward’s arm. Or the way she’d reached up to touch his shoulder or lean in to give him a premium view of her cleavage. I should have been furious. I should have told her to keep her hands to herself, demanded that she respect the fact that Edward was engaged.
Yet I was more pissed off about the fact that I didn’t care about it nearly as much as I knew I should’ve.
When he laid down behind me and smoothed a hand down my hip, I kept my eyes closed, my breathing level. His touch warmed my skin, but couldn’t touch the ice inside me. Even when he kissed my shoulder and softly murmured my name, I didn’t react.
I was too torn inside and the turmoil of the day kept me from turning to him.
Because he knew I’d been hurt, he’d be sweet and loving and gentle, but the only answer to the chaos inside me was the opposite. I needed ferocity, passion, something so intense that it drove everything out of my mind, everything but our two bodies moving together...
A face loomed in my mind.
Immediately, I blocked it out.
I can’t stop thinking of you…
No, I told myself. No.
Chapter 15
Guilt and frustration chased me through the night, darkening my dreams and even when I woke up, they cast a shadow on me.
I needed to talk to Edward.
If he’d already left for work, then I’d just have Paul drive me into see him.
I hadn’t been angry with him last night, but I didn’t like leaving things so unsettled, and I needed him to understand that I wasn’t comfortable with Stacia. I couldn’t control the people he was friends with, but I had a bad feeling that if he brought her into our home too often, it might damage what we had. I wasn’t going to be one of those women who didn’t like any of her husband’s friends, but Stacia...she didn’t just want to be Edward’s friend. I wasn’t reading into it. I knew that. He needed to know.
People in relationships had to talk.
That was what he’d say, so that was what I’d tell him.
That decided, I climbed out of bed feeling a little clearer. But when I moved to my dresser to dig out some panties and a new bra, I found a note.
Gabriella,
I’m going to be out of touch most of the day. We’ve had a problem with a small design line we’ve been buying out and I have to personally oversee the resolution. I may be tied up in meetings for the next day or two, most likely working late. I’m sorry. I’ll call you tonight, sooner if possible.
I love you.
Edward
I read the note twice over and then slumped against my dresser, defeat flooding me.
“Why didn’t you just talk to him last night?” I asked the question out loud even though there wasn’t anyone there to answer me.
I moved back to the bed and picked up my phone, hoping there’d be a message from him. Something sweet and personal, something that proved he felt bad about not being around.
There was a message.
From Flynn.
I deleted it without reading it and then sent Edward a text of my own.
I saw your note. Hope to hear from you soon. I love you too.
The day didn’t get any better from there.
Not that I was expecting it to since I was set to spend the day going over music choices and wedding songs with Estelle.
At least Claire wasn’t there when I arrived. She had some sort of charity function that simply couldn’t be put off, not even for a wedding. She called off and on throughout the day, because clearly, my choices couldn’t be trusted. Not that she said that directly, but there was no doubting the message.
“You want a father/daughter dance, I’m sure,” Estelle said.
It was the first thing today that made me smile. “Yes.” I could already see my big, grizzled bear of a father blushing at the idea of it. He’d danced with Suzanne at her wedding despite his obvious embarrassment. When Jennifer, who’d been only ten at the time, had asked why he’d done it, he’d said it was every father’s responsibility. I wanted it even more than I wanted the plums and purples and golds and oranges for my colors. “Dad used to dance with us around the living room at night. I definitely want a father/daughter dance.”
I glanced up at Estelle at that moment and saw a fleeting smile on her face. It was the first real one I’d seen from her in a while too. Maybe ever.
“Any idea what song you’d like?”
I bit my lip. Since Claire wasn’t here, I knew I could voice my opinions without fear of being made fun of or ignored, but I was still hesitant. Estelle was nice enough, but she was still high class. “There are two songs I’ve always liked. One’s called, I Loved Her First and the other one is I’ll Always Be Your Baby. Both seem kind of perfect for a father/daughter dance.”
Estelle made a note without a word of discouragement, though I did see her eyebrows go up just a fraction.
We went through the important upcoming dates: cake tasting, meeting with the caterers, going over the menu. I made sure to note every one of them in my phone and then sent them all in a text message to Edward. I didn’t expect a response and didn’t get one, but at least I knew he had the dates now.
“I hear that all the invitations are addressed and ready to send out?” She gave me a narrow look.
“Ah, yes.” Knotting my hands in my lap, I waited for her to launch into me like Claire had done.
She just nodded. “Just make sure they’re mailed. You remember the dates, right?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” She laughed and then, to my surprise, she laid her planner down and studied me for a moment before asking the last thing I ever expected. “Is this the wedding you want, Gabriella?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I couldn’t tell her the truth. After a moment, I shrugged. “It’s the one I’m planning, isn’t it?”
It seemed a lame sort of response, but I didn’t have another one. Not when the truth wasn’t an option.
Less than thirty minutes later, my C
laire reprieve ended. She came into the room in her usual sweeping way, announcing it was time to start working on seating charts.
I could have smashed my head against the table. I’d thought we were done, that I could get out of here, find someplace to grab a slice of pizza and work on one of my projects – most likely the finding a job one – and have some time to think.
“Oh, good…you’re still here.” Claire didn’t look thrilled by the idea at all, really, but she still smiled and snapped her fingers at the young woman following along behind her. The woman lifted a heavy bag and placed it on the table, retreating out the door without another word. “Seating charts are tremendously important, you realize.”
She looked at Estelle. “Are you free?”
Estelle gave her a gracious smile. “For you? Of course.”
***
“You will make sure they’re dressed appropriately for the rehearsal dinner as well as the wedding, won’t you, Gabriella?” Claire’s gaze rested on the bohemian top I’d paired with a short skirt and her lips compressed as though she wasn’t sure I understood what appropriate meant.
“Of course. My father has already pressed his best overalls.” Those words popped out of my mouth in a bright, cheerful tone and even as I heard myself saying them, I knew I should stop.
Except…I didn’t really want to. For the past hour – no, from the first moment I’d met her – it had been one jab after another and lately, the insults were getting more and more cutting and I’d reached the end of my patience. I was done.
So as she gaped at me, I smiled brilliantly at her.
Over to my left, Estelle made a strange choking sound under her breath. I couldn’t tell if it was a laugh or a sound of disapproval, and I didn’t care. It crossed my mind that I might have been in the middle of a nervous breakdown. I’d have to research that. It could make for an interesting story.
Egged on by the shocked look on Claire’s face, I leaned closer. I didn’t even have to feign excitement. I almost felt giddy as all the things I’d been thinking and feeling came rushing out in a wonderfully sarcastic diatribe.
Pure Lust: The Complete Series Box Set Page 29