“Amazing,” she says. “Where’d you go to school?”
“This isn’t a Q and A session nor is it a getting-to-know-you date,” I remind her before remembering to soften my delivery. I slid my hand across the tablecloth, covering hers. “Let’s just enjoy our meal, shall we? The chef who prepared this meal is co-owner of a Michelin star restaurant in Chicago.”
The questions stop, and as I requested, we enjoy our meal together in silence. After paying the check and escorting her to the chauffeured town car I reserved just for her, I lean over and kiss her cheek. It’s the second time I’ve done it this afternoon, and I normally don’t make a habit of showing many displays of affection if any at all, but she’s been awfully quiet since I nixed her benign interrogation. And while it wasn’t a sexual act of any kind, I’ll offer her a small amount of aftercare in the form of a kiss and some reassurance.
“I had fun with you this afternoon. I needed this.” I brush her arm. “You did well in there.”
“We didn’t do anything for you,” she says, her clear blue eyes match the sky this afternoon.
“Everything in there was for me.”
My driver pulls up behind her waiting car.
“Tomorrow night,” I say. “Press the home button on the GPS of the Discovery. It’ll take you to Golden Oak. Call me when you pull up to the gate, and bring your overnight bag.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize it was an overnight thing.” She places a pointed finger in the air as if to stop me from going quite yet.
“Oh? I thought I’d made it clear before?” I widen my stance, unwilling to accept her refusal.
“I can still stop over, I might just need to leave in the middle of the night to get home before the sun comes up.”
“Bellamy, you’re not going to have the strength to drive home after I’m done with you. And you’ll be sleeping with me that night. My room is being prepared, and I’m having several items delivered to make your stay especially enjoyable.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to.” Her gaze lands on the sidewalk.
For a moment, I’m hit with a Jenessa flashback. I’m punched in the gut all over again, but I refuse to believe sweet, sultry Bellamy is half the devil incarnate she was.
“This is not up for debate. You belong to me. You’ll do what I say. End of discussion. I’ll see you Saturday night.”
I climb into the back of my Town Car and instruct the driver to take me back to the funeral home so I can finish planning my uncle’s burial with Beckham. After a whirlwind of a shitty week, the only thing I have to look forward to is being balls deep in Bellamy’s sweet as sin pussy tomorrow night.
Dare I say I’m impressed with myself for waiting? The old me would’ve wasted no time plunging my cock into that tightness. Something told me she’d be worth the wait.
As we head across town, I take my phone out to check my email. A call comes in when I’m halfway done scrolling through a quarterly statement from my accountant, and for a second, I debate pressing the ignore button, but then I realize it’s my guy.
My background guy.
“That was quick,” I say when I answer. “Please tell me she’s clean as a whistle.”
“Describe clean as a whistle,” he says.
My heart stops for a second and restarts when we hit a pothole in the road. “Don’t fucking scare me like that.”
Last time, he alluded to digging up some dirt on Jenessa, but I never imagined just how dirty it would be.
“Well, she is who she says she is, so that’s good. No known aliases. Graduated from Whispering Hills High five years ago. Birthdate checks out. Social security number. All the basics are fine and good.” He stops for a second and pulls in a sigh. “Had to go pretty deep with this one, check out some of her family members.”
“And?”
“Well, turns out her father is a card-carrying member of the Apostolic United Brethren. She comes from a poly family, Dane. Looks like there are three wives. Several children. But they’re shacking up Main Street style, hiding in plain sight from the rest of the world. Her dad’s a pharmacist...”
I set the phone down as he yammers on about mundane details. I tuned everything out after he mentioned the AUB.
“Dane?” he calls. “Dane, you still there? You okay?”
EIGHTEEN
BELLAMY
“Go say hello to your future in-laws.” My mother elbows me in the back as she carries a giant bowl of potato salad out the back patio sliders. “You’re standing around like you’re shy, but you’re coming off as rude.”
She’s wearing her clown lipstick again. I suppose it makes her feel special, or maybe it makes her stand out amongst the younger wives. Either way, I’m fully prepared for her to prance around like some made-for-TV mom and feign excitement when she swaps recipes with Cortland’s mom and the other McGregor sister wives.
She lives for this stuff, and it’s only gotten worse since we moved away from our old ward and stopped going to our old church where she had an ‘in’ with a handful of church cliques.
“Judy, is it?” I hear her say sweetly to one of Cort’s moms. “Hi, I’m Jane. I’m Bellamy’s mother. Mark’s first wife.”
On any other planet…
I tune her out as I stir the punch. The mountain of orange sherbet refuses to melt with the ginger ale, but that’s okay. I’m not going outside until this punch is damn good and ready. My hand reaches for my side pocket, feeling for the rectangular outline of my phone. The clock above the kitchen sink reads twelve-fifteen, and twelve hours from now I’ll be behind the walls of Dane’s Golden Oak estate. I can only imagine how lavish it is. Knowing him, every square foot of that place is elaborately outfitted from the floors of his foyer to the shelves of his refrigerator. There’s something inherently sexy about a man who pays attention to detail and has an affinity for the finer things in life.
Or maybe it just holds an exotic appeal since my entire life has consisted of blue carpet, Thomas Kinkade reproductions, and tater-tot casserole.
Either way, I can’t wait to see it, though I have a feeling we’ll be spending most of our evening behind the closed doors of his master suite.
I should be more nervous than I am, but for whatever reason I’m bursting with confidence today. Maybe it was the pampering yesterday and the anticipation of slipping into the silky black mini-dress I snuck home in the bottom of my bag today.
“Bring that outside, will you, Bellamy?” Summer stands in the doorway, one foot in and the other out. “And grab some of those red plastic cups.”
Just like that, I’m right back down to earth, smack dab in the middle of my current reality. The sherbet appears to have melted, so I take that as my sign. Besides, the sooner I get out there, the sooner this can all be over with.
“There she is!” Judy flashes a wide smile and opens her arms to greet me with a hug like she does every time I see her at Bible study. I place the sloshing punch bowl on a nearby table and return her gesture. She’s sweet enough, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s aware she raised a son who uses sex and threats to manipulate women.
My father watches us from across the yard. He stands next to Cort’s father, and they’re both sipping lemonade and steering clear of the children running circles around them. I loosen my posture and offer him a relaxed smile, not wanting him to have any reason to think this entire situation fills me with dread.
“How’s my girl?” Cortland’s voice sneaks up from behind me, and my body clenches before it remembers he can’t touch me right now in the presence of family.
“Hi.” I turn to him and grin like I’m some lovesick puppy dog. “Haven’t seen much of you these last couple days.”
“Wasn’t expecting someone’s boss to get her a Land Rover,” he says. “I kind of liked taking you to work the other morning.”
“The Land Rover is borrowed,” I say. “He didn’t give it to me. And you made me late.”
I say it all like I’m razzing him, but I’d love nothing more than to punch him across his perfect, cleft chin.
Judy releases a nervous giggle.