Royally Duched Up: (Duched #3)

by Xavier Neal

  Felicity snickers and offers me a bottle of water. “You never were good with handling your tequila.”

  “Better than most after shot darts!” I defend myself on a chuckle.

  I take the bottle just as she reminds me of a bet I lost during a round of the very game I mentioned. We exchange another round of laughs, nibble through more of the meal, and continue to reminisce on our wild moments at one of our favorite bars for longer than I expect.

  After a sip of water, I have a bite of the stuffed tomato and hum my approval. “You have no idea how much I miss eating like this…”

  She leans back against her side of the couch. “Dieting?”

  My hand motions towards my body. “Does it look like I need to diet?”

  “No,” she almost whispers. “You look as amazing as you always have.”

  She’s not flirting. Just stating the obvious.

  “Still dedicated to the gym.”

  “Then why the change in diet?”

  I casually retort, “Compromise.”

  “Meaning…”

  “Brie is definitely a beer and burgers woman.” My smile grows in fondness. “Getting her to try anything like this is not only difficult, but usually requires some sort of checks and balances system. I.E. Two bites of this and I’ll make sure we order cheese fries on the way home…”

  “Ah,” Felicity drags out. “You two enjoy different types of food.”

  “Yes.”

  “And entertainment.”

  I lift my eyebrows in question.

  “Like you adore fashion and she enjoys…colors?”

  “Art.”

  “Right,” she casually brushes off. “And then you’re from…a highly respected royal family and she’s from some random city in the states.”

  Suddenly not thrilled with the shift in conversation, I snip, “Point?”

  “I was just noting you are very different and wondering…doesn’t that ever get exhausting?” My mouth twitches to reply, but she prevents it. “Do you ever imagine what life would be like if you weren’t always battling with the woman you married? If you two just agreed on the easy things? Do you ever wish you were on the same page about the simplistic aspects so when actual difficulties arose it didn’t necessarily feel like you were adding to the rough waters you already try to wade?”

  The line of questioning kills my appetite. I wipe my hands, stand to my feet, and inform, “I’ve got to finish marking the paperwork to drop off at the city courts. If you’ll excuse me…”

  “Kellan,” she softly speaks up. “I wasn’t trying to upset you-”

  “You were.”

  “I wasn’t. I was genuinely curious.” When I offer her a sarcastic expression, she states, “Look, I’m truly happy for you. I am. I see how blissful being with Brie makes you and I think every person deserves that. But I also see how hard you beat yourself up sometimes and the lengths you go to trying to please her. It just seems frustrating as well as taxing. I got curious, so I asked a question. If you thought it was out of line-”

  “Beyond over the line, Felicity,” I huff on my way back to my desk. At the same time I sit in my chair, I clarify, “We may be business partners and occasionally light friends, but you are never to imply I am unhappy in my marriage or that I might indeed be happier elsewhere. Do I make myself clear?”

  She gives me a slow but steady nod. “Absolutely.”

  “Feel free to finish dinner in your office.”

  The curt dismissal isn’t met with objection.

  I scoot myself back to my desk and pretend to reread the documents I was working on earlier. My attention stays planted at the words I’m not processing while she quietly cleans up the mess. As soon as she shuts the door with her on the other side a heavy, uncomfortable sigh escapes.

  That is the absolute last thing I need right now. Having my dream come true constantly flailing around because of mishaps and miscommunications is difficult enough without my business partner, aka my ex-lover, questioning my albeit currently troubled marriage. And yes, things with Brie have never been quite easy, but that’s one of the things I love about us. I wouldn’t change her. I wouldn’t change us. Right now, the only thing I would change would be starting Hannah’s Hope. It’s not that I don’t want it or don’t think this is an amazing opportunity to have been handed, I’m just not sure I shouldn’t have waited until it would cause less damage to the personal foundation of my life. I understand no marriage is perfect, but Felicity had a valid point. Our waters are already troubled enough to wade without adding the fact I’m trying to build an orphanage as well as managing MINOH. Something is going to have to give. I know it. I just get the feeling I’m going to hate whatever that happens to be…

  Brie

  Merrick wipes his hands on his napkin. “How is it you always find the best burgers?”

  I lean back in my chair, adjust my glasses, and offer him a smile. “I do thorough research.”

  “That’s Brie’s less than clever way of admitting, she drags me around town at least twice a week on the hunt for the most amazing burger this country has to offer,” Guy says between sips of beer.

  Not like I can drag my so called husband around. Though with the level of irritation I’m feeling right now, strangling him would be a better fit.

  “So what now?” Jovi asks, leaning forward on her elbows. “Another museum?”

  “No,” her boyfriend declares loudly. “No more tours.” When she turns to give him a pleading look, he immediately caves. “Fine. One more.”

  She giggles and turns back to me. “I’m good. I just wanted to see if he would give in.”

  “He always gives in when it comes to you.”

  “Truth.” Merrick smirks.

  “Almost always…” She teases with a bump of the leg.

  “Baby, I told you if I do that then you’ve gotta put your mouth-”

  “No,” I blurt out quickly. “Just…No. Whatever the rest of that sentence is please don’t finish it in mixed company.”

  Guy chuckles from beside me. “I am far from a prude. I am highly certain I can handle however it ends.”

  “Yes, but I can’t.”

  My comment causes the table to laugh.

  Afterwards, Guy suggests, “Why don’t we go back to the palace and hang out there for a bit? That way, when Kellan joins us he won’t have to play Where’s Walden.”

  “You mean Waldo.”

  His face shifts in confusion. “Who’s Waldo?”

  “The fictional book character in the striped shirt…” Jovi tries to lead him to remembering yet he looks more lost than before.

  You remember Waldo don’t you? Is he even still around? Did we ever fucking find him permanently? Maybe he needs a bell….

  Baffled by his cluelessness, I ask, “Who the hell is Walden?”

  “Did you never watch that show as a child?”

  I shake my head and he turns his puzzled look to everyone else.

  A sigh of disbelief leaves him. “Wow. Not one of you watched Where in The World is Secret Agent Walden? The show about the child spy, who was practically James Bond but a nine year old?”

  “This is a weird country,” Merrick slowly states exactly what I’m thinking.

  Guy huffs, but the three of us laugh in response.

  Once the chuckles begin to fade, Jovi cautiously asks, “Have you…heard from Kellan today?”

  My lips press together in an effort to bury my frustrations.

  Heard from him verbally? No. Received several text messages? Yes. You know it was one thing that he had to work late last night, but the fact he didn’t even come home took it to another level. He’s never not come home before, no matter how crazy work has gotten. According to the text it would’ve been a waste of gas to drive back to the palace only to then drive to Hannah’s Hope less than hour later for the 5 a.m. walk through he just absolutely had to do. Not sure if it pisses me off more he had a slumber party at the office with his girlfriend or the fact tha
t coming home to simply see me before running away with her again was a ‘waste of gas’. And no! I’m not just bothered by the fact he’s spending more time with her than me, I’m becoming more vexed by the minute that he’s breaking his promise of excluding me. Sure, I find so many of those meetings dull, but I would still like to be in the loop. I would still like to hear some of his problems and victories. He’s been wound up so tightly in perfecting everything he’s barely remembering the outside world. Our days aren’t starting together or ending that way anymore. The little I know about Hannah’s Hope’s progress is what I managed to overhear or read. When we do manage to talk now, he’s preoccupied with such deep thoughts I’m not even sure he’s listening. That’s one reason this vacation with our friends meant so much to me. It is an opportunity to reconnect. To hear what I’ve been missing. For him to hear what he’s been missing. He has no idea the amazing things I’ve been dying to tell him, like how Amelia has jumped up a reading level or how Cliff has asked me was there anything he could do to guarantee he always has a spot at MINOH because it’s the only real home he’s ever had. That I’m the only person he’s ever had in his life to care this long… I know! Heartbreak! And I was going to tell Kellan all about whenever he had the time, but as you can see, he doesn’t. He hasn’t just missed welcoming them to his fucking country. Now he’s missed their entire first morning as well as the afternoon. In case you’re curious my level of irritation has surpassed most likely to cut his favorite tie into tiny pieces to most likely to cut off my favorite part on his body. Yeah. I’m that pissed.

  “Brie?” Jovi quietly tries to pull an answer out of me.

  Guy clears his throat and casually comments, “I’m sure things at the office are wrapping up now, and he’ll be more than elated to finally be able to welcome your friends to our country.”

  His defense for Kellan makes me cringe.

  Believe it or not, Guy is probably Kellan’s biggest unknown ally. He’s always the first to try to see the other side of the situation. To help calm me down. To remind me that understanding is important in any relationship, especially marriage. That he of all people can relate to my problems. He’s an odd voice of reason that knows his audience well. He usually gives me the talk show host commentary with a bowl of frozen yogurt smothered in hot fudge. He doesn’t eat ice cream…See. He’s not perfect. And unlike his childhood friend, Felicity, who he rarely talks to unless she reaches out first, he isn’t trying to mix business and pleasure. He’s just happy to have a friend and coworker he feels he can trust. Though are we technically coworkers yet if the business isn’t open? It’s not even really a business…Hm…semantics?

  “Hey.” He gently nudges me. “Why don’t we stop by Tonez and grab that game you don’t think I’ve noticed you eyeballing? I’m sure your friends wouldn’t mind getting messy.”

  “Messy?” They question in unison.

  “It’s like paint Twister,” I nonchalantly answer with a shrug. “It’s not nearly as exciting as Guy is making it sound.”

  Merrick drapes his arm around Jovi’s shoulder. “I could kick some ass at Twister.”

  “You mean get your ass kicked.”

  My correction causes him to grow a cocky grin. “Kicked. Touched. Spanked. As long as Jovi is the one doin’ it, I’m in.”

  Her cheeks immediately redden, and she bumps into him.

  That. I miss that.

  Guy chortles yet shakes his head as if unsure of how to retort. His gaze shifts to me and he proposes, “Why don’t we invite Soph and Kristopher to join us too? It’s a beautiful day out. I’m sure Soph would love some fresh air and the opportunity to watch her husband land flat on his face.”

  The temptation to do something fun and artsy gets too much to resist. “Fine. Let me pay the check, and then we can walk down to Tonez.”

  “No need. I’ve already paid,” Guy announces at the same time he rises to his feet.

  The three of us peer up at him in surprise.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Jovi sweetly says.

  “Really, man. I can pay for me and my girl’s meal,” Merrick damn near growls.

  You ever wonder if that will change? I mean will he always be that protective of her or will he eventually get comfortable and cut the guard dog bullshit? I’m just wondering will he ever stop wanting to be consumed by her or stop wanting to consume her, the way Kellan has become content no longer being consumed by me…Or us for that matter. Maybe the truth is my insecurities are real and he has someone else consuming him in that fashion…After all she sees him a helluva lot more than I do…

  “You’re on vacation!” Guy brushes off, completely ignoring Merrick’s overprotective nature the same way he has all day. “The only thing you should have to pay for is souvenirs.”

  His kindness makes me smile at him.

  He returns the gesture. “Now, let’s, shall we?”

  The four of us collect our things and head to the art store. Inside, we gush about our favorite paintings, favorite materials, and some of the wild exhibits we witnessed earlier. It doesn’t take long for me to grab the game and the contents required, but we get so engulfed with talking to the shop owner, we spend an extra thirty minutes lingering around. By the time we arrive back at the palace, not only is Soph ready to get the game started, she’s managed to convince Kenneth to join in. Merrick and Jovi take the golf cart around to the side of the property where they are staying to change while I do it in my room and Guy switches into guest clothing Soph has fetched for him.

  Setting up is more difficult than I imagined it would be, partially because Kris is refusing to let his wife play, which is fair considering she is due to pop any day now, and partially because I can’t seem to figure out where the paint is supposed to go.

  No. I hate reading directions…

  Eventually, Guy takes over and I manage to convince Soph to be the spinner as opposed to an active player. The two of us initially argue about her and the baby’s well-being, but after I promise her the game will still have her covered in paint, she surrenders with a smile. Kristopher quietly thanks me and positions himself at the edge of the oversized mat. Casual conversations between those of us waiting quickly escalate into shit talking. With all of us swearing the others are going to lose, Guy has a difficult time working through his chuckles.

  Once it is finally ready to be played, he pops up and states, “Good to go.”

  Kenneth gives me a playful look from the opposite end of the mat. “Brie, may I ask, why you have a fondness for redecorating my garden?”

  I give him a wide smile. “I don’t. I just figure you’ll be less angry when paint hits the grass than you would be if it hit the glass.”

  “Or marble,” Soph says from where she’s sitting on the edge of a brick wall that belongs to a garden bed. “He really hates when things get on the marble statues.”

  His stern expression falls to her. “They deserve more respect than having spaghetti sauce splashed on their feet.”

  “One time, that happened,” Soph grumbles. “One. Time.”

  After a round of laughs are shared, I explain the rules. “So, this is pretty much regular twister except the spots are each paint filled. However they randomly go off when you land on them. Make sure you keep your eyes protected and above all else, try not to slip.”

  “Which if why I didn’t want you to play,” Kris fusses at his wife again. “You’re 39 weeks. You’re basically a sneeze away from your water breaking.”

  “Let it go,” I encourage forcefully.

  She flashes him her middle finger and then spins the wheel on the board. “Left foot red!”

  The six of us each drop a foot on the indicated color. However, Jovi immediately sighs, “No, babe. Your other left.”

  Merrick frowns and switches feet.

  “No. It was right before,” Guy corrects her.

  Merrick glances down at his legs and realizes his girlfriend was messing with him. He meets her eyes as he switches feet ag
ain. This time when his bare foot stomps the spot a burst of paint covers it.

  “Son of a bitch!” He gripes while the rest of us chuckle. His displeased expression shoots to his girlfriend. “What’s next, baby? ‘Accidentally’ bumping into me?”

  “All is fair in love and paint,” she coos.

  “Very true,” I playfully back my friend.

  He rolls his eyes at the same time Soph calls out another color. This time it’s our hands and Kenneth is the one who gets splashed. To my surprise not only is he a good sport about it, he flings some his son’s direction and laughs loudly. The game joyfully continues, each one of us catching bursts of paint causing us to snicker and at times almost slip.