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6
Brick decided he wouldn’t let this woman ruffle his feathers, not even for a moment. For only one simple reason—Jezebelle. He felt the trembles coating her body as they followed her stiff, tyrant mother toward a table where another person waited. With the way Jezebelle almost stumbled and froze at the sight of the person, Brick knew she knew who the guy was. Especially the way she refused to look in his direction—not even a simple glance—he knew she knew the guy.
How the hell was he supposed to play his role if she didn’t tell him everything? Secrets were never good in a relationship. He knew from personal experience. Not to mention, Jaxson and Gabby showed him nothing good ever came from keeping things to yourself. Secrets brought nothing but trouble to your doorstep.
“Jezebelle, you remember Bradley. He’s been dying to see you. It’s been too long.” Her mother pursed her lips, cocking a brow as she looked at Brick. Like she was saying ‘My daughter will never end up with you. Give up now.’
“Jezey, always wonderful to see you,” Bradley said as he stood up and circled the table.
He didn’t want to let go, but not wanting to cause a scene, he loosened his grip for Jezebelle to step away from him and hug Bradley. He didn’t see an arrogant, stuck-up look directed at him from Bradley like he had her mother, and he wasn’t sure what to make of the guy.
He had manners, Brick would give him that as Bradley pulled out Jezebelle’s chair for her and then took his seat. That left the seat next to her mother for Brick to have. He also sat, irritated he didn’t have the chance to pull out her chair for her.
“I’m sorry, and you are?” Bradley asked as he extended his hand across the table toward him.
“Brick.” He shook hands, surprised to find Bradley wasn’t the kind of guy to attempt to exert his power by having the stronger grip. He still didn’t know what to make of the guy, but he decided he didn’t like him.
“Excuse me? Did you say your name is Brick?” her mother asked with a mixture of disdain and disgust in her tone.
Jezebelle cleared her throat and interjected before he could. “He said Rick, Mother. His name is Rick.”
He didn’t grace the stage like Jezebelle, but he knew how to put on a show when it called for it. His smile didn’t waver, although a slice of anger slithered up his spine. So even his nickname wasn’t good enough? First the woman wouldn’t even let Jezebelle introduce him, and now his name fell below par. He wondered how Jezebelle would’ve introduced him out in the lobby. By all indications, she would’ve called him Rick, as she just corrected.
“Richard, why are you here with my daughter?”
Richard? The audacity of this woman. To assume because his name was Rick, his full name had to be Richard. Well, she wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t like Richard. Never had and never would. But, of course, if the whole third generation thing was what got this woman off, all hot and bothered, her eyes shimmering with joy, then he’d roll with it. He’d give the old hag what she wanted.
“So lovely of you to ask, Mrs. Edwards,” Brick said with the most dazzling, charming smile he owned. Oh, and he owned a lot of different expressions. Working at the bar, coming across many different kinds of people, he knew how to schmooze and converse with anyone. Then he turned toward Jezebelle who had a rolling toil of emotions swimming in her gaze.
“I asked this beautiful woman to spend the rest of her life with me. Because I love her with every breath in my body. She’s talented and kind, and I can’t imagine a moment without her.”
A shimmer of love started to shine through her amber gaze, overshadowing the anxiety he knew she was feeling.
“I can’t wait to spend my life with her and have kids. A beautiful boy. With her sparkling eyes and my name, of course—Richard Bartholomew Merrick IV.”
Jezebelle’s eyes widened. Either by his suggestion of children, or what their potential son’s name would be. He had an inkling she wasn’t sure if he was lying about his full name.
Nope. Not lying. Richard Bartholomew Merrick III, at your service. He had never particularly liked his middle name, and he never told people his full name as he did now. But he knew in the pit of his stomach, Bradley had a name like his, and he wouldn’t let the rich dick sitting across from him show him up in any way.
Jezebelle’s surprise disappeared and a hint of laughter sparkled in her eyes. So she thought his name was comical? Or could it be the vexation smothering her mother’s expression?
“Explain yourself, Jezebelle,” her mother said sharply.
Jezebelle flinched and looked away from him. He felt her slipping away from him, even though he really didn’t have her. Not like he wanted.
Because in that explosive moment, he knew without a doubt he would marry Jezebelle one day. She didn’t know it yet—not as the truth—but she would sooner or later. The last thing he wanted to do was rush her and scare her away.
But right now, he had to make sure the old hag didn’t scare her away from him.
Jezebelle slowly brought her hand toward the glass of water sitting near her small plate and took a sip. The engagement ring he slipped on her finger sparkled like a shining star twinkling in the night sky.
“I’m not sure what part you’d like me to clarify, Mother. Rick asked me to marry him and I said yes.”
Brick didn’t think her mother could press her lips tighter together than she had already been doing, but they thinned even more. If the devil had a frightening look, this woman would surpass him with ease.
Bradley cleared his throat, directing his and Jezebelle’s attention. Her mother refused to stop her tyrant glare toward Jezebelle.
“Congratulations, Jezey. When is the wedding?”
