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19
This wasn’t right.
Brick grasped Jezebelle’s hand before she could make another nervous run down the front of her dress. Her nerves had been palpable the entire drive from New York City to Norwalk where her parents lived. It hadn’t been a long drive, only about an hour or so, but enough time for her to get her nerves ramped up. As soon as they stepped out of his truck, they ratcheted up even higher. She started running her hands down her dress over and over as if she could wipe all the worries away.
He kissed her hand, staring into her enchanting brown eyes. They were filled with so much doubt, it was like a knife to the gut. If her mother—or even father—said one thing to upset her, they were leaving. He didn’t care how it would look or how they’d react. He wasn’t about to let anyone make her feel anything but beautiful and special.
“You look wonderful. This dress…” His eyes glided up and down, taking in the peach-colored dress that fit her like a glove. The top part was lacy, showing enough cleavage to put his mind in the gutter and what he wanted to do with her beautiful breasts. The dress ended at the top of her thighs, making it short and semi-indecent. At least, he figured her mother might think so. He, on the other hand, loved seeing her creamy skin and imagining all the ways he could make her feel good.
“Yes.” She finally smiled a true honest smile that had his heart skipping a lustful beat. “Keep going. This dress, what?”
“Makes me wish we were headed to somewhere we could be alone so I could peel it off of you.”
“You always know the right thing to say.”
She rested her forehead against his chest. His arms circled her and pulled her closer.
It had been a long week since her father dropped the bomb about the party. Worrying, analyzing, and dreading the day. Her father had eaten his burrito—claiming it was delicious—and left. Everything in that short time had felt normal with no tension, yet Brick knew that wouldn’t be the case once they entered the house. Her mother would make sure of it.
Within that week’s timeframe, they had emptied Jezebelle’s apartment. Some of her furniture went to the donation center, and they brought the remaining stuff to his place. His apartment had never looked as packed as it did now. They still hadn’t arranged everything to their liking—or more like, Jezebelle hadn’t. He didn’t care how it looked and told her so. Have at it, were his exact words. Her eyes had lit up with glee and music had filled the air as soon as he said it. She got to work unpacking and organizing, a rock tune jamming, and her body swaying to the music. That had been the one and only day she had to put things together. Every other day had been filled with work. She had managed to snag her old job at the restaurant near the theater. Auditions for another play had been posted and she had been preparing for that as well.
One week and he was a goner. Hook, line, and sinker. He knew without a doubt he wanted her in his life forever. That their impulsive marriage had been the right move.
Although neither of them had brought up the awkward, stilted conversation they had the morning before she met her father. It still lingered in his mind.
Did she still think it was a mistake?
Would things change once this party was over?
He had so many questions and doubts, yet he didn’t want to rock the boat. He didn’t want her to realize ‘Yeah, this was a mistake. Let’s get a divorce’ type of feeling.
The fact she was so worried about this party made him concerned part of her felt this was all a mistake and she simply didn’t want to voice it.
She finally lifted her head and smoothed her hand across his face. A tender smile graced her beautiful lips.
“Thank you for doing this.”
Ha! Like he wanted to look like the bad guy and refuse to come to her mother’s party.
“Anything for you.”
He meant it. No matter what happened or what life threw at them, he’d do anything for her. Even endure a few hours in her mother’s presence because it made Jezebelle happy. He was thankful his eye didn’t look as terrible as it had a week ago. A slight yellow lingered, but otherwise one could barely tell he had been socked in the eye—twice.
She licked her bottom lip.
He had no idea how to make her nerves completely disappear. They probably wouldn’t until the party was over. He had never wanted the next two to three hours to go as fast as he did now. They were about to walk into the lion’s den with no backup. None of Jezebelle’s friends, like Gabby and Mia, were invited. Only her parents’ friends and her other relatives had been invited.
But they could do this.
Together.
“Come on.” He kissed her before grabbing her hand and linking fingers with her. “I’d hate to walk in late.”
Jezebelle laughed, yet didn’t add anything. Because it was true. He knew her mother would dock them for every tiny infraction she could think of.
Quite a few cars were already lined in the driveway telling Brick her mother was annoyed they didn’t arrive first.
When Jezebelle knocked on the door and her mother opened it, Brick knew his instincts were correct. Her mother wore a smile, yet the way she narrowed her eyes at him said she wasn’t happy they arrived after a few of the guests.
