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24
Gigi
And so it was.
Three days later, at precisely three thirty-two in the morning, we lifted off for Montreal to spend Thanksgiving weekend with Beau Moreau’s family.
The flight was uneventful, save one moment when Beau had nudged me and whispered in my ear, “Kiss me, we’re on camera.” Then his big hand gently pulled my face closer to him. When his lips touched mine—every time his lips touched mine—my belly did a delicious twisty flip.
This time, he really got into it, deepening the kiss so much I actually moaned from the sensations he caused through the rest of my body. When he finally broke his lips from mine, I said, “A little much, Moreau,” into his ear.
All the jerk did was chuckle and hug me. And damn me, it felt really good.
Beau rented an SUV from the airport, then we were on our way.
To visit his family.
“Your family knows we aren’t really together, right?” I asked, assuming he’d at least informed his mother.
His head swiveled toward me. “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” Beau set his hand on my thigh and squeezed. I hadn’t even realized I’d been nervously bouncing my leg.
I’d never gone to a boyfriend’s house for Thanksgiving before—let alone a fake boyfriend’s house. Beau had assured me I’d have plenty of time to study and do work while he visited. The only thing he said I had to attend was some kind of party on Saturday night.
So, I brought the best dress I had with me. It wasn’t exactly fancy. It also wasn’t casual. I hoped it would pass for acceptable. If not, a shopping trip would be in order.
When we pulled up to Beau’s mother’s house—after passing through electric gates—I sat there stunned. This house had been shown on many an interview and montage or spotlight on Beau. People were fascinated about sports stars.
Seeing it on TV was a whole lot different than up close and personal. The house was ginormous. Its dark, gray brick went on for miles. I loved the classic style of the home. Its many peaked windows made the whole thing seem like something out of a fairy tale.
“Nice house, Moreau,” I said with a dry cough. “Do you think there’ll be enough room for me?”
He smiled at me, his grin making that familiar ache inside me worse. “If not, we can always stick you in the butler’s residence,” he said, leaning forward. In an instant, his lips touched mine in a quick kiss.
Before I could say anything, he was out of the car, opening up the hatch. What was that? Were there cameras around? Angelique said there would be one at the party. She hadn’t said anything about Beau’s house, though.
I hurried out, looking around the vast property for evidence of someone taking video. Nothing that I could see. That didn’t mean there weren’t cameras set up here.
“You don’t have butlers, do you?” I asked as I pulled a bag from the back of the SUV and dropped it onto the cobblestone driveway.
For some reason, Beau cracked up. “Geneviève, you make me laugh.” That was his answer. Not a, “Yes,” or a, “No.” He shut the back and clicked the locks. Then he took my hand and held it while we walked up to the giant doors.
“Bonjour, my love.” His mother stepped out onto the landing, arms open wide. Beau set his suitcase down and walked up the steps. I tried to take my hand back from him, but he wouldn’t let me. Instead going in for a one-armed hug with his mom. Which I thought was a tad bit odd.
“Mother, meet Geneviève Martin,” he said, more than a hint of pride in his voice and his actions. Beau’s face was nearly—beaming?
“Ahh, finally, we meet,” she said, her hands resting on mine—which were tight to my sides at the moment.
“Bonjour, je suis ravi de vous recontrer enfin. Vous avez une belle maison. Merci pour l’invitation,” I said, telling her it was nice to meet her and complimenting her lovely home.
Her eyes got watery, which made me uncomfortable—yet also very comfortable at the same time. It was a strange feeling I’d never had before. She moved her hands to my shoulders. “Je t’attends depuis si longtemps maintenant. Mais ça valait valait le coup d’attendre.”
Then she quite literally yanked me into the tightest hug I’d ever had. What did she mean she had been waiting for me for so long? But it was worth the wait?
Her words confused the heck out of me. I decided to ask Beau about it later. Maybe his mother was a bit unhinged? He should have told me that earlier so I could have prepared.
So, I hugged her back, because what else could I really do?
“Are we staying out here forever? Or are you letting us in the house?” Beau asked, picking up his huge suitcase. I didn’t question why he’d brought such a large suitcase for such a short, quick trip. It wasn’t my place—even though I was curious.
