“Do you know what I need right now?”
“Wine?”
“Close. I was thinking mimosas and donuts with Becca.”
Ouch. That stings deep considering she’s in my arms, burrowing into me, and I’ve been the one with her all weekend.
“I can get you anything you need or want but that, but if you want to talk to her, I can head downstairs, give you privacy.”
The house is empty, outside Nana being somewhere around. Stetson and Claire have left for the rehearsal to be with Teresa. Caterers are still here and from what I’ve heard, the downstairs main floor looks like roses and gardenias exploded all over the place.
I have no idea how many people are planning on being at the dinner post-rehearsal, but with the amount of activity that’s been going on all day, it feels like Claire planned a wedding reception, not the rehearsal dinner portion.
“No.” Jillian tugs her arms out from my hold and wraps them around me, holding me loosely. “Stay right here for another minute. You being here is the only good part about this weekend.”
“Even better than all the free wine you can drink all night to your heart’s content?”
“That’s a close second,” she murmurs.
My chest vibrates with laughter and Jillian tips her head back. “I didn’t mean anything about Becca. Our brunches have always been bitch sessions, mostly about my mom. She’s going to freak the hell out when I tell her everything that’s gone down this weekend.”
“Weekend isn’t over. Nana could still puke up her dentures.”
She laughs, earning me a smile I haven’t seen in days. Wide and gleaming, her blue eyes look more like the ocean than the storm I’ve seen in them the last few days.
“Let’s go crack open the wine before your parents get back. That’ll really piss off your mom.”
She rolls to her toes and slides her mouth over mine. “That sounds like the best plan. Just let me get dressed.”
“What a wonderful idea,” I murmur. My hands go to work at the loosely knotted belt at her waist. I push open her robe and step back as it slides off her shoulders.
She’s naked in front of me, spiking interest down my spine and straight to my dick.
Standing nude for everything but her beautiful smile in front of me, there isn’t a hint of embarrassment. She doesn’t attempt to cover up. Her confidence in most things she does might be the sexiest about her.
“Did you want to help me get dressed?” she asks wryly.
“Nope. Just wanted to see you naked again.”
“You’re a dork.”
“Yup.” A dork who’s in love with her. I’m not sure she’s still quite figured that out yet, even if she’s let me have her in so many of the ways I’ve imagined for years.
She has enough drama now without me making it clear though. I will when we get back home. We have time.
Jillian shamelessly struts toward the closet. Firm, tight ass sways with her exaggerated movements and I grip the edges of the dresser so I don’t chase after her. My current plan is to get her tipsy enough and happy enough before everyone comes back from the church that she won’t even care she’s attending the rehearsal dinner for Roman or that she and her mom have unsettled issues. Or that Nana isn’t the woman she believed her to be.
My patience is rewarded when she returns a few minutes later, dressed to fucking cause grown men to die of a heart attack at the sight of her. Skintight black dress that hugs every curve of her body like it was poured over her. It flares slightly past the knees, creating a mermaid-like fit and as she walks to me, taller now, thanks to whatever heels she’s wearing, she looks like she’s gliding along the floor.
It’s a simple dress, but beautiful. A modest cleavage cut at her breasts and only held between two of the thinnest dress straps I’ve seen in my life. And as she turns… holy shit.
Thunk. My jaw hits the wood floor.
“Holy shit. Where’s the rest of your dress?”
It’s missing the back. Cut so damn deeply down her lower back, I can imagine everything she isn’t wearing. Like a bra. Or underwear.
Heaven help me.
“You like?” My temptress holds out her arms to the side and does a slow spin, grinning evilly at me the entire time.
“Is this punishment for tickling you again?”
“Nope.” Still grinning.
“For jerking off while you were leaving earlier?”
She comes toward me and tugs on my tie. With a fierceness in her eyes, she says, “You made me wet and horny before I had to go talk to my nana. Evil.”
“So this is you getting back at me?”
“Partly.” Her smile gleams and she steps back and winks. “Also because I know it will really, really piss Julianna off and that sounds like fun tonight.”
Awesome. More fights and drama. Just what we need.
“I’m going to have to work hard at not murdering Roman or any of the groomsmen with the way they’re going to be drooling over you. You know that right?”
“Yes, but if you behave, I’ll give you a very nice, very sexy present later.”
“You might be the most evil temptress I’ve ever met.”
“Also the nicest.”
“Sexiest.”
“Loyal and hilarious, too.”
“Incredible sweet tasting.” A blush hits her cheeks. “Let’s go, vixen. Get me drunk so I can blame the alcohol when I give the best man or future groom a black eye.”
“See? Already this night sounds like fun!”
I have no idea what’s gotten into her, but I’m here for it.
And Jillian.
For as long as she’ll have me, bloody knuckled if necessary.
Guests return to the house, Claire and Stetson first among them, leading them inside. Jillian is on her second glass of wine and is sporting a shimmering pink hue to her cheeks showing the wine is taking effect exactly as I hoped.
She’s tipsy enough that when Nana makes her entrance, Jillian heads straight to the bar and grabs a glass of wine for her, acting as if their earlier conversation never happened.
It’s Stetson who comes to my side and nods at the ice water in my hands.
“Not drinking tonight?”
“I try not to much during pre-season.” As it is, even with the run, I’ve been slacking on the workouts. I’ll need to work extra hard tomorrow before the wedding to make up for only getting in the run today.
“You’re dedicated.”
It sounds like approval. Surely I’m reading him wrong, but when I face him, he’s got his sights set on Jillian, a far-off look in his eyes.
“From the time she was little, Jillian was never who Claire hoped she’d be.”
My jaw tightens. If he thinks that’s a good thing, that Claire had expectations already instilled in a daughter before she was born, he’s sadly mistaken.
“I think maybe with all of that, we forgot to appreciate who she was becoming, instead Claire kept wondering why they had nothing in common.”
“I’m not sure why you’re telling me this.” Nor do I like the sounds of it.
“Claire didn’t have an easy beginning to life as it is. I’m sure you’ve now heard. For the longest time, she didn’t want kids. Was afraid she wouldn’t know how to love them and then she thought she’d raise her daughter to have all the things she never did and that’d be enough.” He sips his drink, whiskey I’m guessing. Probably expensive. “Suppose we still didn’t get it right.”