Cordelia chatters through takeoff—about the wedding, about mutual acquaintances, about nothing, her voice filling the cabin. Has it always been this annoying?
The moment the captain says we’re clear, I’m on my feet.
“Cordelia. Now.” My tone brooks no argument.
Mable’s eyes are wide. “I’ll be right back, beautiful,” I soften my voice to tell her before heading toward the rear of the plane, and Cordelia follows me.
“What are you doing?” I stop and ask her when I think we’re far enough away.
“Should we?” She motions to the bedroom.
“No, here is perfectly fine.” Hell no am I going into a bedroom with her alone. I’d lose my mind if Mable did that.
“Sorry, you seemed to want to have this chat in private.”
“I don’t want to have this chat at all. But I’m flying home.” She tilts her head like she doesn’t understand why I’m worked up over this. Am I overreacting? She keeps coming.
“Eleanor said you were leaving early, and I had business in the city. I didn’t realize I’d need permission to board a family plane.”
That’s the thing: She’s not truly family. It’s my mom that is close to her mother. Because of that, we’ve all been pushed together. It’s a dick thought, but it’s there, nonetheless. She seems to make Mable uncomfortable, which in turn makes me on edge.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Her expression turns, and she looks confused. “Wells, what’s wrong?”
I stare at her. “Caldwell,” I correct her. The only person to ever have called me “Wells” is Mable. The first time had been when I had my mouth on her, so lost in the pleasure I was giving her she couldn’t say my full name.
“Oh sorry, I heard others saying it. I thought it was a new thing.” She puts her hands up like I’m being dramatic.
“The press. They thought we were getting married. Printed it as a headline.”
“Oh.” She laughs lightly and surprised. “That old rumor? It’s been around for years. You know how they are.”
“Mable heard it.”
Cordelia’s expression shifts, softening into something almost sympathetic. “Oh no. Is that why she’s so quiet? I thought she was just nervous about meeting everyone.” She steps closer, her voice dropping. “I would never want to cause problems for you. For either of you.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Well, I wanted to get back home, and because I want you to be happy.” She puts her hand on my arm, familiar and sisterly. “It’s a new place for Mable. New country, new customs, new everything. She’ll need friends. I’m trying to help.”
I look at her, searching for the lie. The same eyes that cried at my grandfather’s funeral peer back at me.
“You’re being protective,” she continues gently. “I understand. But you’re going to smother her if you’re not careful. She needs space to breathe. To find her place.”
I run a hand through my hair. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. “She’s overwhelmed.”
“Of course she is. Anyone would be.” Cordelia smiles, reassuring. “Let me help. I can show her around and introduce her to people. Make her feel welcome.”
I want to say no, but I need to speak with Mable. I want her as comfortable as possible, and if that pisses people off or hurts their feelings? Well, I don’t give a fuck. Not when it comes to Mable.
“Just... back off for today,” I say finally. “Give us space.”
“Of course.” She squeezes my arm. “I’m here if you need me. Either of you.”
“Hey,” I say, stopping her before she goes. “I need you to stop with all the touching.”
Her brows pull together. “What do you mean?”
