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“Oh, you’re killing me.”
We’re both laughing now, but finally; Tate grabs my hand and places it over his heart.
“You see…this is where the wound is.”
“Yeah, is there a bruise now?” I ask.
“I don’t think that you understand what kind of a bruise you’ve left here,” he says.
Tate looks into my eyes tenderly, still holding my hand over his heart. Something passes between us that’s hard to describe. It’s all warmth and affection and depth. Just by the way he’s looking at me, I know what we’re sharing and what he’s saying at this moment is real. I just hope we both survive this without a broken heart.
11
Tate
Tonight we have dinner with the family.
Someone shoot me.
There are so many demons to face, both inside and outside of me, and I’m not looking forward to any of them. Thank God I have Brianna by my side, because with her here, I feel like I’m strong enough to do this.
As we pull up to the estate just outside of Chicago, I grab Brianna’s hand tightly. We share a tender glance, and I can’t help but be amazed by the effect she has on me. After spending so much time together it feels like we’re actually together, and it feels good. I find myself wishing it wasn’t all for show.
“I’m nervous,” sh
e says.
“Don’t be” I place my hand beneath her chin. She shows me that pretty smile, and I’m overcome by an intense urge to kiss her again, but I hold off. It’s going to have to wait.
I step out of the limo first so I can put out my hand and help her to follow. Brianna looks absolutely stunning. Sexy as hell. For a moment I think that I should’ve bought her an outfit that was a little less revealing, but I’m sure I’d still be admiring and thinking about her body.
“Tatum!” I hear a familiar voice call. I turn to the stone steps that are in front of the estate and there stand my mother wearing a pantsuit and dripping with pearls. Her arms are crossed over her chest. Sue is an intimidating woman, but I refuse to let her get to me this time.
“Mother,” I reply a bit coldly. “This is Brianna Carson,” I say, approaching the steps, making sure to flash my million-dollar smile her way. I grab Brianna’s hand and interlock my fingers with hers and notice how natural this simple act feels.
“Wonderful to meet you,” my mother says, putting out her cold hand, glancing at our hands intertwined. There’s a diamond tennis bracelet on her wrist that she’s worn since I was a kid.
“Thank you so much for having me,” Brianna says congenially.
“You’re welcome. Come on in. Supper will be served at seven pm sharp,” my mother tells us.
Always so orderly, my mother. Everything has to be on time, and I can’t stand it. I think life should have a bit of chaos to be enjoyed thoroughly. Mother does not adhere to the chaos theory.
“You look nice, Tatum,” Sue says, leading us into the front room.
“Thank you, Mother,” I reply. What she means is that she’s pleased I put on a suit and shaved my face, and look like the son who left everything behind.
“Everyone is eager to see you,” she adds, leading us into the room where we’re met by the whole family. Literally, everyone is there, and it’s daunting. They sit around the living area and as soon as they see me, their eyes widen like they’ve finally caught a ghost. I squeeze Brianna’s hand, giving her some courage.
“Hello, everyone,” I say, trying to stay as calm as possible. In reality, I feel like jumping out of my skin, but on the surface, I’m as cool as ice, just like the rest of them. It’s the mask that the Williams family wears.
“Hello, son,” my father Richard says, standing to his feet. He wears a pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt. His hair is grayer than I remember it being and he looks exhausted. I feel like I’m looking at who I would’ve been if I hadn’t moved to Montana.
“Hello, father,” I reply. “This is my fiancée, Brianna Carson,” I say, speaking loud enough for the whole room can hear.
Everyone gives a polite hello, and Brianna nods her head in acknowledgment. I don’t even glance over at my brother Tanner, because I can imagine the smug look on his face. I don’t dare glance at my mother either. There’ll be enough eye-rolling done at the anniversary party, I’m sure.
“Dinner is served,” Georgia, the maid says.
