“Miss Campbell, over here! When are you planning to meet his family?”
The questions come thick and fast but Bella ignores them and totters on, grabbing Nat and I by the arms and leading us off down the street.
“I’ve given them enough for today,” she explains. “They’ll leave us alone in a minute.”
And sure enough, a couple of hundred feet down the sidewalk, we’re back on our own once again.
“What hell was all that about?” Nat says.
“Oh, you mean my fan club?” Isabella laughs.
“Your fan club?” Nat repeats. “You’re gonna need to fill me in here.”
“What?” she says. “Don’t you read the newspapers? Tyler Eastwood and I are the British tabloids’ favorite new couple.”
“After all that work you put in to avoiding them?” I question.
“I know, right?” she laughs. “I don’t know what I was so worried about! Because it turns out they love me. They can’t get enough of Tyler’s new American It-girl. And it hasn’t exactly harmed my career, either. My agent’s phone has been ringing off the hook. The stage, TV, even Hollywood!”
“You’re kidding!” says Nat, impressed.
“I don’t know why I ever doubted you,” I say with a smile.
CHAPTER thirty-ONE
Just close family. That’s what Gloria and Bailey said when I was first told about this ‘family barbecue’ – an opportunity for the Campbells and the Tates to finally get to know each other. But my family is just Dad, and now Roxy too, while there seems to be a whole freaking army of Campbells. Even Spencer, Dylan’s brother, has flown in from Bangladesh for the occasion.
I look around me at the sea of unfamiliar faces. It’s a beautiful sunny afternoon and we’re all out in the huge grounds of the Rhode Island family home. Yep, you heard me right; the very same place Dylan took me during our very first week together. It’s so weird coming back here, where it all began.
It just supposed to be for one week and now we’re celebrating our upcoming wedding?
And I know Dylan must be thinking something similar, because there’s this playful glint in his eye as he introduces me to yet another member of the Campbell clan, his cousin Violet – in the process gently reminding me of that time I jumped to the wrong conclusions and thought she was his wife, based on one stupid family photograph of them together.
But I can’t stay embarrassed for too long, because little Chloe – dressed for a party in her best pink dress and cute little Frozen handbag – tugs on the corner of my hem and looks up into my eyes with a sense of awe and wonder.
“Are you getting mawwied?” she says.
I kneel down, so that my face is level with hers.
“Yes I am,” I say with a big smile.
“You’re so pwetty,” she replies, before blushing and hiding her face in her hands.
“Oh, thank you sweetheart,” I say. “And so are you!”
But Chloe’s still being shy, turning and hiding her face in her mother’s skirt now, so I stand up back to adult height again, and continue talking to Dylan and Violet.
“Violet!” I say. “It’s so nice to meet you. Dylan’s told me about how close you guys are.”
“And it’s wonderful to finally meet you too, Julia. I’ve been on a Dylan to settle down for years, and he always said he was waiting for the right girl. But truth is, I guess I kind of thought he’d be waiting forever. But here you are, so I know you must be somebody special! And Dylan tells me you’re a dancer? That’s so amazing.”
But as I start to tell Violet about my place at Eldridge, I see a scene out of the corner of my eye that fills my heart with dread.
Because there’s Roxy, dressed in bleached denim cutoffs and a white halter top, hair higher than the Empire State building, gesticulating passionately as she talks to Bailey and two other older male relatives, one of whom seems to have his eyes surgically attached to her more-than-ample cleavage.
Oh my god, I think. I need to chaperone her, right now.
“I’m so sorry,” I say to Violet, cutting my story short. “But would you mind excusing me? I think I’m needed elsewhere, to do some damage control.”
As I head towards Roxy and Bailey, from another corner of my eye I see Dad too: talking away animatedly to a group of Dylan’s aunts. They’re all buttoned-up and prim, dressed more appropriately for a night at the opera than a fun outdoor barbeque, and I can tell by the way they’re smiling politely that the moment he leaves they’ll all be whispering themselves about what a hick he is.
I pause, caught at a crossroads, not knowing which way to turn – whether to interrupt Roxy or Dad – but as I’m standing there, panicking, I feel a big strong pair of arms slip around my waist from behind.
“Just relax, baby,” Dylan whispers into my neck. “There’s nothing to get worked up about. Roxy and your dad are good people, and so are my family. Sure, they wouldn’t normally mingle but it’s all going fine, I promise. So just take it easy, okay?”
His hands move a little down my thighs and I push back into him for half second, wishing we were alone right now.
Just then, there’s the sound of a glass being tapped, and all eyes turn to Bailey, who waits until he’s got the whole garden’s attention before he speaks.
“I’d just like to thank you all for coming here today,” he begins with a big smile. “It’s so rare that we get to spend time as a family, so we’re grateful for Dylan and Julia for giving us this fantastic opportunity to all come together. I’ll make it brief because I think the food is almost ready, and I know you’re all looking forward to those fantastic steaks I’ve been telling you about.”
At this, a gentle ripple of laugher goes around the crowd.
“So I just want us all to welcome Victor and Roxy, and of course Julia, into the Campbell family.”
The laughter turns into cheers and a warm round of applause.
And I squeal as Dylan grabs me and spins me around, showing me off – to what feels like the whole damn world.
“See?” he grins as he sets me down on my feet again. “Nothing to worry about. In fact, quite the opposite. We should be excited, Jules. Excited about our future together.”
§
That evening, once the barbecue’s finished, Bailey invites Dad and Roxy and I to join them for some drinks in his wood-paneled parlor room, complete with bookcases filled with antique hardbacks and a roaring log fire.
“I’ve gotta tell you,” Dad say from his seat by the fireside, “it’s quite the place you got here! That hot tub is incredible.”
I feel a little flash of embarrassment, as I remember the steamy time Dylan and I once had in that tub.
“And was that a bowling alley I spotted on my house tour?”
“It sure is,” Bailey laughs. “You a bowling man, Victor?”
“Yes sir, I am,” Dad smiles. “I still go out with the guys every Thursday night at Majestic Lanes.”
“Well, we should have a game here then!” Bailey agrees.
Just then Roxy chips in, turning to Gloria. “And this place! The décor. It’s just so, so what’s the word? Classy.”
I venture a timid glance in Gloria’s direction. She smiles a thin, tight-lipped little smile, feigning politeness. But now the barbecue is over, I’m suddenly aware all over again that Gloria is obviously still none too happy about this whole engagement.
“Thank you, Roxy,” she replies politely. “We’re lucky that the place comes with so much history. All the design features were already here when we bought it, it’s simply our job to update things every now and again, and to keep the house looking immaculate.”
I have to hand it to her. She’s doing a damn good job of hiding her distaste for this whole evening; I just hope she can keep it up until we leave tomorrow.
“Hey, Roxy,” Bella pipes up – as if also sensing a little tension from her mom and wanting to deflect things. “I hope you brought your manicure set with you? ‘Cause Julia tells me y
ou’re great, and I’d love you to do mine just like yours? That design is all the rage in London at the moment.”
Dylan squeezes my hand reassuringly.
“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Bella,” he announces with a big innocent smile.
But what he doesn’t notice – in fact what nobody but me notices – is Gloria rolling her eyes in disgust.
§
“I told you it’d all go great!” Dylan announces that evening as we slip into bed.
“It sure did,” I reply, convincingly as I can, but I just can’t get that image of Gloria’s disdainful face out of my head. I wish I could tell him the truth about his mom, but I just can’t bring myself to break his heart.
“No really,” he persists. “It couldn’t have gone better. What’s wrong, baby? You’re not still stressing out are you?”
“I’m fine,” I insist, forcing a smile onto my lips.
“What about a little massage to help you relax,” Dylan murmurs, climbing over me as I lie on my back beneath him, closing my eyes as he runs his hands over my shoulders.
I feel myself melting beneath his touch.
“Oh yes,” he growls. “I’m sensing a lot of tension.”
And as he begins to tenderly work my skin with his fingers, I can feel that now-familiar intensity building between us, as his touch becomes increasingly sensual, his fingertips first encircling the tender buds of my nipples, coaxing them to hardness, then gliding down, first dancing on the tingling skin of my inner thighs before moving to the place between my legs that’s throbbing and aching for him now.
I gasp softly when his thumb glides over my clit – somehow both tender and firm at the same time, teasing my aching nub until I’m squirming and sighing beneath his touch. I close my eyes, giving myself to him completely now, and it takes me by surprise when a moment later I feel his tongue flicking at my clit, too.
I gaze down at him, spreading my legs, his eyes locking with mine as he kisses me there, urgently, powerfully, lapping his tongue up and down, driving me right to the edge of pleasure and back again.
I moan again, as I feel him push right inside me, his tongue urging deeper and deeper, and as he begins to fuck me with his mouth, I reach out, winding my fingers into his thick black glossy hair, spreading my legs, bucking my hips, lost now only in the rhythm of his tongue, as he takes me urgently with his mouth.
He pulls away, just long enough to growl, “I love the way you taste,” before returning driving his face back between my legs, his hands cupping my buttocks now too, lifting me up off the sheets as he drives his tongue even harder and deeper inside me, the electric waves of my pleasure finally spilling free – crashing around my body, my mind flashing white as I come for him, so hard that just for a moment, I really do forget everything.
And as I lie shivering on the sheets, catching my breath, he climbs up on top of me again, kissing me passionately, so that I can taste myself on his lips, on his tongue. I reach between his legs as we kiss, stroking his cock – wanting to give him the same pleasure he just gave me.
He pushes his tongue deep into his mouth as I stroke him like that, the shivers of my own pleasure still flashing around my body, and already I can feel him tensing, his breathing growing shallow as I work his shaft with both hands, feeling him grow even harder in my grip. And then, with a shudder, he comes too, covering my fingers with liquid heat.
He flops down beside me, a contented smile on his full sensual lips. And in that comfortable silence, the room lit only by flickering candles, he’s soon fallen fast asleep. I snuggle down beside him, wanting to join him, but for some reason I just can’t let go.
Nope. All of a sudden I’m tense again. All my blissful pleasure of a few moments ago disappearing as my mind once more turns towards the one big problem I have left: Gloria.
I lie there, watching Dylan sleep like a baby, and now I’m bolt awake. Damn. I wish I could be as blissfully innocent, but this ridiculous and embarrassing situation his Mom’s put me in is just too much.
I feel like I’m going to go crazy just lying here, tossing and turning, so I pull on my jeans and t-shirt and head out of the room.
I don’t even know where I’m going. All I know is that walking the large empty hallways (and there sure are enough of them) is going to help me to sleep better than lying there fretting in bed.
I wander along the long upstairs corridor, down the large central staircase, and without even really thinking where I’m going, I find myself standing in the doorway to the glass-walled conservatory that doubles as a breakfast room. And with a flash of surprise I realize that I’m not the only person who can’t sleep tonight.
Because there in the far corner, sat at one of the small wicker tables, is the unmistakable outline of Gloria, staring out into the darkness of the mansion’s grounds through the glass, nursing what looks like a tumbler of neat whiskey.
I pause in the doorway.
I mean, I don’t want to alarm her, but in a strange way, I realize I’ve walked into just what I need. It’s time. Time to face her one on one. And unlike our last meeting, this time I’m going to be the one doing the talking.
So I walk straight over to her table and slip down quietly into the seat opposite her. I thought she might be startled by my presence, but she’s so calm, it’s almost as if she’s been waiting for me all night.
“Gloria,” I say. “I’m glad I found you here. I think we need to talk, don’t you?”
There’s what seems like the longest silence. And then she speaks. “In that case, you’d better pour yourself a drink.”
So I head over to the bar in the corner and pour myself a stiff whiskey, too, then take my place again, just as Gloria begins speaking.
“I’m impressed with the way you’ve managed to get Bella on your side,” she says quietly. “She usually considers other girls a threat.”
“Thanks,” I say, cutting her off, “but I didn’t come here to talk about Bella. What I want to talk about is you and me. You see, the last time we had a little one-on-one, you kind of blindsided me. I barely said a single word. Which meant I didn’t get a chance to say all of the things that I wanted to say, like how much I love your son. I know you’re not happy that Dylan’s chosen me. And I get that, I really do. I know exactly the kind of a girl you dreamed would marry your perfect, handsome son. And I sure as hell know it wasn’t a penniless girl like me, from the wrong side of the tracks.”
I take a moment to sip my whiskey, the blood pounding through my veins. And Gloria stays silent, eyes fixed on me, waiting for me to continue.
“But the thing is, Gloria,” I say, leaning in towards her, “we love each other, we really do, and I just know that we’re right for each other. I know that your instinct as a mother is to see your kids happy, and believe me, I can make Dylan happy. I will make him happy. And you don’t even have to like me. I’m not asking you to. But what I am asking is for you to trust me. Trust me to be a good wife to your son. And maybe, over time, we can even become friends. Acquaintances at least. Just not enemies. And believe me, I’m not asking you this for my own sake. I’m asking for Dylan’s. Because it would break his heart if he knew that there was any bad blood between us.”
I pick up my tumbler with a shaky hand and knock the rest of the amber liquid back in one, savoring its strength, its burning warmth.
“I’ll let you think about that,” I say, pushing myself to my feet. “Goodnight.”
§
The next morning, we’re all in the hallway ready to leave. Dylan and I are heading back together to New York, and Roxy and Dad have already taken off.
“What are your plans, mom?” Dylan asks, as he says his goodbye.
“We’re going to stay on for a few more days here,” Gloria replies, smiling. “Your father’s supposed to be retired, but somehow he’s always too busy to take a vacation. Doctor Phillips is always saying he needs to relax. Well, now I’ve got him captive. I’m going to keep him here and make him relax!”
“Your mother seems to think I’m about to drop dead any second,” Bailey chimes in. “But the doc says I’ve got one of the healthiest hearts he’s ever seen!”
“Oh, and Julia,” Gloria adds, turning to me. “Before you go I have a little something for you.”
She walks over to a little console table in the hallway and pulls open a drawer, then comes back holding something. She hands it to me: it’s beautiful china figurine of a ballerina.
“Call it an unofficial engagement present,” she says with a smile. “I was in the upstairs morning room and I saw this and thought of you. It was my grandmother’s. She was a great admirer of dance, just like you. I’d like you to have it.”
I’m genuinely taken aback, almost lost for words.
“Wow. It’s beautiful,” I croak. “I’ll treasure it always. Thank you so much, Gloria.”
And as I look into her eyes, for the first time I actually see warmth there.
PART FIVE
CHAPTER thirty-TWO
Three months later ...
You would’ve thought that all the time we’d spent apart – all those times we’d been in two different countries, pining for each other – would prepare me for this moment. For the moment I say goodbye to him. After all, I remind myself, it’s just for one more night.
One more night without him before we’re husband and wife. But even so, I just know I’m going to miss him like crazy.
We’ve got just moments left before I have to kick him out of my room in this luxury private estate house, before I spend my final night as a single woman.
He grins as I push him against the wall, stealing one final hungry kiss from his lips.
“Good night, good night,” I whisper, hugging him tight. “Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow.”
“I didn’t know you were into Shakespeare,” he grins back.
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