by Q. B. Tyler
“Thanks for sharing.” I roll my eyes, not wanting to think about my future brother in law’s appendage. The thought sends a spark to my heart. In law.
Will and I are getting married.
“Seriously, saying goodbye to that third leg of Drew Montgomery’s is going to be tough.” She pouts and her words snap me out of a particularly dirty wedding night fantasy involving Will and me in that sexy number position.
“But you’ll be close to your sister, and your niece. So, that’s good?”
“Yes, that’s the biggest reason I’m taking the job. Besides the money of course. But Emma is three now and I want to see her grow up. Face Timing is getting hard.”
“You could just have a baby of your own,” I tease, and I can’t even stop the stars from forming in my eyes as I picture Lauren’s child. Gorgeous amber colored irises and tanned skin. Lauren’s babies would hit the genetic lottery.
She scoffs. “With who? Drew? Although that would be cute. Our kids would be cousins!” She giggles. “But in all seriousness, Drew and I are just having fun.”
“I don’t know. I see the way he looks at you.”
“Like I have magic in my vagina and he’s trying to see my next trick.”
I ignore her joke. “I see the way you look at him.”
She purses her lips, the joke failing her. “He’s sweet. And he’s fun. And…it doesn’t matter Char, I’m moving. And Drew is barely the monogamous type when the girl is in the same state!”
I huff and my brows thread together. “Is he fucking other girls?”
“No…I don’t think so. Calm down. I’m just saying—Drew Montgomery has a lot of fun.”
“Well, maybe you’re the kind of girl to get him to settle down?”
“Sure, Char. He can come live with me in the Windy City. Me, him, Emma, and her parents: one big happy family.”
“Never know.” I shrug. “Have you told him?”
“We were supposed to get drinks tonight but something came up. He said something about dinner with his parents.”
Without Will? I hadn’t heard anything about a family gathering; it made me wonder if the three of them were having dinner alone. Will’s words regarding his upbringing and his relationships with everyone in his immediate family come to mind making my heart sink slightly.
“Well, when do you move?” I ask her, not wanting to disclose private information about Will and his family.
“End of the month. It’s bittersweet, but I think I’m ready for the change.”
Me: Lauren just told me she’s moving :(
The frown is still on my face long after lunch with Lauren as I drop my keys on the counter of Will’s townhouse. I don’t have to wait long for a response, making me glad I know his schedule as well as I do.
Will: I’m sorry, baby. Why?
Me: Work. and wants to be closer to family.
Will: Well that’s good for her. I’m sure she’ll miss you though. Where is she moving?
Me: Chicago. We will go visit?
Will: Absolutely. How is your day?
Me: Besides that bomb? Not bad.
I neglect to tell him what Lo had said about Drew having dinner with their parents.
Will: Well unfortunately it’s about to get worse.
I sit up straight on his couch, my body on high alert, waiting for his follow up when I see the familiar three dots indicating that he’s typing.
Will: My parents are coming over.
Me: PARENTS? As in PLURAL? As in J.R. who’s not my biggest fan AND your mother who is even less of a fan?
He doesn’t answer my text, and I begin texting furiously as jump from the couch and break into a run towards the kitchen, realizing dinner is going to be here.
FUCK.
My phone starts ringing and I answer on the first ring.
“UH HUH?!?” My voice is panicked to the point of shrill and his voice comes over the receiver even, calm, and feels like warm honey all over me.
“Baby,” he says softly, “please breathe. Everything is going to be fine.”
“What—when—who?”
“Unfortunately, it’s my fault how this happened. When you call J.R. for anything it’s always a goddamn production,” he groans.
“What do you mean?”
“I called him to see what he thought about me coming clean.”
“Based on what you’ve told me, I assume he didn’t agree with the idea?”
“You’re learning.” I can hear the chuckle, but it’s dark. “When and if I do, he needs to be there so this conversation is inevitable. It escalated into him and my mother coming over.” I open the refrigerator wondering what I have time to prepare and if I need to go to the store.
“And Drew?” I ask, wondering where he fits into these dinner plans.
“Drew? I don’t—”
“Lauren mentioned that they had plans but that he canceled for dinner with your parents… maybe I’m mistaken.” I backtrack not wanting to draw his attention to the fact that they probably had plans without him. Like I thought.
“News to me. But sounds about right.” He snorts, and I twist my mouth to prevent the tears that are building. He is just as nervous about this as I am, and here I am panicking that my in-laws won’t like me—when Will feels like they didn’t even like him.
“We’ll get through this together, baby.”
* * *
I COME HOME TO A whirlwind moving around the kitchen and the smell of marinara in the air. My mouth waters both from the smell and the vision of Charlotte’s ass in a tight pair of spandex leggings bending over the oven.
I move behind her as she stands up. My hand grips her ass hard before sliding around her waist and cupping her sex. I can feel the heat radiating through the material just from that one touch and it taps into the possessive caveman in me as I think about the power I have to turn her on.
“Are you barefoot in my kitchen, Miss Pierce?” My fingers stroking the space between her legs. Her leggings are so tight I can almost make out that tiny swollen bundle that was no doubt slightly peeking out between the lips of her sex.
“Will,” she whines, “can you not?” She turns in my arms, presenting her lips to me, and I happily lean down to capture her lips. I’m desperate to feel her tongue moving against mine when she pulls away. “I don’t have time for that.”
“We have plenty of time. Why are you even cooking? You don’t have to make anything for them. I don’t think they are planning to stay for dinner.”
“You invited your parents over at dinner time! Of course, I am expected to make something,” she shrieks. “They already hate me. At least let me feed them.” I don’t tell her my mother has been off carbs since 1997 and there is a zero percent chance she’d have even a bite of the lasagna that she’d just slid into the oven. I run a hand through my hair as I can already hear the comments my mother will undoubtedly make.
“Thank you, baby, it’s very sweet. But… it’s going to be late, my parents eat at like…five.” I want to prepare her for my mother not touching her food. My father, on the other hand, will be thrilled. I don’t think there’s been red sauce anywhere near the white carpets of my parents’ house in years. My mother rarely even allows red wine in the house.
“Well,” she furrows her brows, “at least they’ll know I’m feeding you.” She shrugs before she heads out of the kitchen. I grab her by her waist as she attempts to pass me and pull her towards me, wrapping my arms around her.
“Everything is going to be okay.”
“Will it though?” she asks. “Your parents aren’t exactly my biggest fans.” I can see the tears forming in her eyes, and I pull her closer, brushing my lips across hers gently.
“Don’t cry.” My heart lurches in my chest as I watch one lone tear slide down her cheek. I reach my hand out to wipe her face.
“I just wish we could have talked about this more extensively first, without them.”
“Baby, he is my lawyer, and I just don’t w
ant this hanging over my head anymore. It’s constantly on my mind and I’m losing sleep over it. I just want us to move on.”
“I understand that, and I get you want to know where you stand legally but I’m…” she trails off and sighs. “I just thought we’d be making decisions together about our future, that’s all,” she says before she disappears from the kitchen.
I follow behind her after a few minutes and lean against the doorframe as I watch her shed her clothes to prepare for a shower. My eyes follow her around the room lustfully before I press off the frame and pull her naked body into my arms. I pick her up and her arms and legs immediately go around me, clinging to me like a life raft and my body automatically reacts to her soft, womanly curves pressed up against me. “We are making these decisions together, baby.” I rest my forehead against hers. “It’s just you and me, okay? We’ll hear what he thinks and decide together what’s best.”
She eyes me as if she doesn’t totally believe my words before she nods once. She’s silent for a moment before she shoots me a devilish grin and locks her ankles tighter behind me. “Do you want to shower with me? Maybe an orgasm will help take the edge off.” I feel my dick respond to her words, answering for me as I walk us into the bathroom.
After our shower, that served to sate us both, I realize I left my phone in the kitchen. I step out of my bedroom and I’m immediately hit with a familiar scent that is almost overpowering the smell of the lasagna. Chanel No. 5.
Fuck. What are they doing here?
I pull the door to my bedroom shut behind me and jog down the stairs, my heart racing as I think about the fact that my family just showed up—two hours early. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Well, hello to you too, son,” my father says. His laptop rests in his lap, with his feet propped up on my custom made coffee table, and I resist the urge to knock them down. “I do believe you summoned us here to help fix this mess you’re in.”
“Yeah, two hours from now. I do believe we agreed for you to arrive around seven. What happened to calling, if you’re going to be early? Or I don’t know, knocking?” I cross my arms, irritated with their intrusion.
“We did knock, dear,” my mother interjects as she brings a cup of tea to her lips. If she’s had time to prepare tea that means they’ve been here at least fifteen minutes. I sigh, knowing they probably know what Charley and I were just doing, especially since the last orgasm I gave Charley had her screaming. “When you didn’t answer after some time, we used our key.”
Note to self: Take their keys.
“It sounded like you were busy,” she continues, her teacup still raised, as she narrows her gaze at me over the rim. “I made myself some tea, I hope that’s okay.” Her lips form a straight line as she gives me a look, letting me know she knew just what was keeping me busy. It’s one of those rare times I’ve seen my mother with her hair down, both sides are tucked behind her ear and curled almost perfectly. She looks exhausted, as if she hasn’t been sleeping, and I begin to ask if she’s getting enough rest in an attempt to deflect.
“Honey, did you check on the—” Charley’s voice floods the room and I kick myself for not telling her they were here the second I smelled my mother’s perfume. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see she’s completely dressed, although her hair is still wet and she’s pulled it into a bun high on her head. Her face is completely void of makeup and, despite my parents’ presence, I want to take her back into my room and make love to her for the rest of the day. I reach for her hand and rub my thumb over the back of it trying to calm her racing thoughts—and heart.
“My parents decided to come early,” I say, so she knows that this is just as much of a surprise to me.
She swallows and gives me a look, showing the worry all over her beautiful features. “That’s not a problem, is it?” my mother asks, and I shoot her a look.
Charley immediately changes her expression and gives my mother a smile. “Of course not, dinner is just not quite ready.” She moves towards my mother and holds her hand out towards her. “I’m Charlotte, it’s very nice to meet you.” I can sense her warm smile although I’m standing behind her, and I watch as my mother stares at her hand for a beat longer than is appropriate before reluctantly setting her tea down. Where are those manners you instilled, Mother?
I expect her usual curt greeting. I can already hear “The pleasure is all mine, darling.” Cue air kiss. But what I did not expect was for her eyes to narrow slightly as she stands to her feet, dusting the imaginary dust from her lap and staring Charlotte square in the eye. I can see a slight tremor move through Charley as if she’s bracing for impact. “So, you’re the woman who has my son beside himself and risking his entire practice.”
“Mother,” I grit out, as I move to stand next to Charlotte, pulling her back slightly.
“I—I…” Charlotte stammers.
My mother raises her hands in exasperation. “You have nothing to say? Can you imagine how this will make you look if this gets out, Will? Honestly, dear, it’ll completely tarnish your good name.”
“That I fell in love?” I ask her.
“That you slept with your married patient!” I hear a sniffle and I can sense that Charley is seconds from losing it. “Oh, for Heaven’s sake, now is not the time to cry. What are you going to do if my son loses his career over you?”
I go to interject when Charlotte’s confident voice rings through the air. “I think about it every day. How I would be able to look at myself in the mirror knowing I cost the man I love…everything. How he would view me and us—how our relationship would change. If we could even have one at all. I wonder if he would eventually resent me.”
Never, baby. I don’t interrupt, I just slide my hand into hers and squeeze, praying that the gesture will translate. She looks at me and if I ever needed any confirmation that she and I were on the same wavelength, she nods her head.
“Frankly, Mrs. Montgomery, I don’t know what I would do. Love him? Try and be there for him as best I can? Try to live with myself. I’m not going to walk away from him, if that’s what you’re asking. I love him. More than anything. I know you don’t believe that. Maybe you never will. But I just hope you’ll give me a chance to show you that I’m not a bad person. I’m not a—”
“Liar? Cheater? Manipulator?” my mother interrupts and I feel the fury flash across my face. “I hate to break it to you, honey, but you are those things,” she snaps.
“That is enough,” I snarl. “Baby, can you go check on the food?” I wanting her away from my mother as soon as possible. I chance a glance at J.R. who’s still seated, mindlessly going through his phone as if he’s oblivious to the scene unfolding in front of him.
“Yes, I…see you’re preparing lasagna,” she grits her teeth. “I haven’t had carbs in years.” She sticks her nose in the air and shudders as if the thought abhors her.
Charlotte’s back straightens slightly and I can see a small glimpse of the confident Charley shining through. “I’ve done bad things, it doesn’t make me a bad person. I’m just asking for a chance to—” She ignores the petty comment about her choice of meal preparation. Good girl, don’t feed into that bullshit.
“What? Break my son’s heart? Ruin his life? Take half his money? J.R. told me you’re coming out of your previous marriage with some pretty significant wealth.”
“Frankly, that’s not any of your business.” Her voice is even, not combative or angry. “Will is not my ex-husband and you don’t know anything about my prior marriage.”
“Marriage is hard work. You don’t get to throw a temper tantrum and end your marriage just because you aren’t getting enough attention. Get a hobby, dear. Once upon a time you would have thrived in the junior league.” She crosses her arms and backs away slightly, moving toward the bar cart in the corner of my room. “Of course, not now. No, now, your lifestyle choices would make it very difficult for you to be accepted.”
“I’m not interested,” Charley says immedia
tely.
“Hmmm.” My mom opens a bottle of Tanqueray gin and shoots me a look. “Olives, dear?”
I don’t answer her, and with my hand wrapped around Charlotte’s forearm, I haul her into the kitchen. Once we are safely out of earshot, I reach for her. “Baby.” It’s as if that simple word causes her to break down because the tears are streaming down her cheeks.
“She hates me. Which I somewhat expected but…that?” She points at the doorway. I wrap her in my arms and push her face into my chest.
“Shhh, she doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t know you and my mother is just…” How do I even put her into words? “She hates any sign of scandal.”
“She thinks I’m all wrong for you.” She pulls back, her eyes teary and red, her skin slightly blotchy but she’s still as radiant as ever.
“Good thing she doesn’t get a say in the matter then.” I kiss her lips gently, sliding my tongue between them in an effort to calm her.
“Is she always…” she starts. “Has she always been like that?” I can hear the question she’s really trying to ask. Does she treat you like that?
“As long as I can remember.” Yes, I answer her unspoken question.
Empathy flashes in her eyes, and then she’s back in my arms, wrapping hers around me and pressing a kiss just over my heart. “I’m sorry.”
I lift her chin upwards towards me and allow my lips to hover over hers. “I love you,” I tell her just before I press my lips to hers. “And I’m sorry for what she said to you.” I press my forehead to hers.
Her eyes flutter closed and I take a minute to just enjoy the stillness between us, ignoring the fact that my parents are one room over, probably preparing for round two with my fiancée.
A throat being cleared penetrates our bubble and I turn around to see my mother holding her gin martini at the stem of her glass. “Olives? Also, Tanqueray over Hendrick’s?” She wrinkles her nose. “Not my first choice for entertaining. Did you not read the book I gave you for the drinks that should always be on hand?” She moves towards my cabinet and opens it, in search of the olives I know are not in there.