Chapter 17
Seventeen
On the bright side, my coffee will never get cold in hell.
—Boone to Nettie
Boone
Everyone showed up to the reception. Even my actual sister.
Sure, she had no clue who we were.
But it was great having her there.
Plus, it gave my grams a chance to talk to her without it looking suspicious, which was what she was doing right then.
“What a turnout,” Dad said when he came to a stop beside me.
“It is pretty great, isn’t it?” I asked.
“It is,” he agreed. “What’s the long stare for?”
I gestured toward the table that Ida Bell sat at. “Wondering if it would be weird to just tell her the truth.”
Dad took up a lean against the wall, lifting his foot to press against the paneling before saying, “Maybe not at your wedding. We don’t want a scene.”
I snorted. “Are you kidding? Nettie would love a scene.”
Dad looked on thoughtfully before he admitted, “I can admit that I’ve been dying to tell her.”
“Oh, can I do it?”
We both looked over to see Nettie standing behind a pole, only her head poking out from around it.
“You’re such a stalker.” I laughed and pulled her to me by the dress.
She came willingly and leaned into my side, reaching for my beer.
I handed it to her, and she took the tiniest of sips before handing it back. “God, I miss beer.”
I ran my hand over the round globe of her ass. “You can taste it off my tongue again later.”
Dad gagged.
I smiled.
Nettie pulled away and started marching toward the table with my grandmother and Ida Bell at it.
“Fuck,” Dad and I said at the same time.
We watched, enraptured, as Nettie sat down opposite Ida Bell and started talking.
We watched the expressions play across Ida Bell’s face.
First shock. Then anger. Shock again. Disbelief. Shock.
Every emotion spelled out plainly on her face before she sat back in her chair rubbing at the scar that was peeking out from beneath her clothing.
“I can’t believe she thought that I wouldn’t want this girl because she had a heart condition.”
“Just an excuse to fuck with you, Dad,” I said. “Just like she cheated on you and had me with another man. Just like she’s stolen money off of you for going on thirty years. Just like she…”
Dad held up his hand when Ida Bell’s head turned to survey the crowd.
Her searching gaze paused when they landed on us.
“Shit,” Dad said.
Ida Bell stood and walked out of the room.
She passed by Koen so fast that he paused in his discussion with our VP, Major, and followed after her.
Nettie came our way again, bringing Grams with her.
“How’d that go?” I asked as I pushed off the wall and caught a seat from a nearby table.
Grams sat and shook her head. “Like a turd in the punch bowl.”
“Grams, it didn’t go that bad.” She paused. “I hope she hates Gail as much as I do now.”
Sawyer snorted. “Honey, you hate with your whole heart. I don’t think anyone is like you in this entire world.”
Nettie blew him a kiss and winked at me before heading to the food table.
I followed behind her, leaving Dad and Grams to talk quietly.
I got two plates of food, balanced rather precariously and followed behind my girl who got so much that there was no way she’d finish even a quarter of it.
The Dixie Wardens MC had catered, and there was so much food to choose from that I was sure she didn’t know where to start.
I followed behind her with three Dr Peppers tucked between my arm and chest and found the first seat that was open which happened to be by Eddy and Weaver.
“Ugh, I’m so tired.” Nettie practically collapsed into her chair. “And I’m cold.”
I immediately shrugged off my shirt, thankful I had a white tee underneath.
She smiled at me gratefully and shrugged into it, sniffing it when she got it buttoned up all the way.
I dug into my food, but I did it with my heart happy as fuck.
“What is she doing?” I heard Weaver ask Eddy.
I looked over to see my wife eyeing my meat.
“Honey.” I barely contained my laugh. “Do you want a bite?”
She licked her lips and scrunched up her nose. “I shouldn’t.”
I held the eight inches of meat in front of her face, and she groaned before leaning forward and crunching into the sausage. Juice dribbled down her chin.
She wiped it away with the sleeve of my shirt, and I chuckled.
“Want a napkin?” Eddy threw a balled-up one at Nettie’s face.
It hit her between the eyes.
Nettie caught it when it bounced off her lap and unraveled it.
She wiped her face with it, then kept eyeing my meat.
“Are you going to eat that?” my wife asked.
I paused with it a few inches from my face. “You want it?”
She batted her eyes at me.
I handed it over and reached for my brisket sandwich.
Gentry and Odin joined our table with their own piles of food.
“Odin,” I said. “Glad you could make it.”
He grunted.
That was pretty talkative for the man, so I left him alone and said to Gentry, “How’s the marathon training coming?”
“I’m not marathon training.”
“Then why are you running every day like you are?” Nettie teased him.
We all knew why.
Gentry had a girl that’d gotten under his skin.
Sage, a nurse at the hospital that was there on a travel nursing contract.
She was set to leave in a few months, and he hadn’t convinced her to stay yet.
But seeing as I tried to stay out of other people’s problems since I had enough of my own, I didn’t know all the fine details.
Nettie was clearly interested in knowing them.
But Creed and his woman, Birdee, came up with Creed’s sister, Bernice, with them.
Bernice only had eyes for the quiet man at the table who was trying really hard not to make eye contact with her.
Yet another pairing that was odd to me, but still seemed to fit perfectly well.
Though, Odin was trying really hard not to give away his feelings.
“We’re going to head out,” Creed said. “Bernice is having some trouble breathing tonight.”
Odin’s head snapped up as he studied her with critical eyes.
Odin had a thing for the asthmatic bombshell that was Creed’s sister. Though, he’d probably never admit it.
Watching Bernice watch Odin underneath lowered lashes let me know that Bernice felt the same.
My lips twitched at the sight of the two trying not to appear that they were staring.
A sound came from Bernice’s lips that had my doctor ears—even ones that usually listened to animals—perking up.
“Have you used the inhaler yet?”
Odin’s words.
Odin didn’t say much, but when he said stuff about medical knowledge, you better damn listen.
Odin, in his former life, was dual board-certified in infectious disease and gastroenterology. He was a real-life Gregory House, only surlier and without the drug problem.
His last case he’d ever worked was a young girl that was undiagnosable by any other doctor.
As a last-ditch effort, the little girl’s mother had driven her across the country to the hospital that Odin worked at.
She’d begged him to fix her child. He had, but that’d been the turning point to a vicious game that the little girl’s father had been playing.
Odin had figured out that the child had been poisoned. The mother had pinpointed the father. The father had killed both the mother and the child. Then he’d framed Odin for murder.
The man had gotten away with it at first. But Odin wasn’t the type of man who took anything lying down.
He’d proved his innocence, made people listen, and then when the world was watching because he’d just taken down the governor of a state, he’d gunned him down in the middle of the town square. Nailed him right between the eyes.
He was dead before he’d hit the ground.
And Odin was given twenty-three years in prison for murder of the first degree.
That was why he had to have extensive facial reconstruction. He’d be recognized by nearly anyone in the world.
“Yeah, about twenty minutes ago,” Bernice admitted. “It’s not getting better.”
“And your long-acting ones?” Odin asked, crossing his fingers together. “When’d you take those last?”
I would’ve listened to more, but my wife’s hand found purchase on my thigh, and my mind went to other things. More pleasurable things.
The conversation continued at our table, but my mind was on the way Nettie’s hand moved higher and higher. Not quite touching my cock, but getting damned close.
She stood up, gave me a look, and surreptitiously leaned her head toward the back room where she’d stored a change of clothes to change into.
“I’ll be back,” she announced to whoever was listening. “I’m dying for a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt.”
I waited all of a minute and a half to follow her.
No one noticed us disappear.
I entered the room to find my wife—my fucking god, was it nice to say those words finally—lifting her dress over her head.
She was wearing white lace underwear and a white lace bra. That white lace bra was overfilled, and I growled at the sight.
“I could get used to those boobs.”
She flashed me a grin and reached behind her.
Her breasts spilled free of the confines and jiggled to a stop.
My dick, which had already been hard as stone, went even more rigid.
I reached down and pressed the heel of my hand into it to take pressure off of the zipper that was digging into it.
She walked toward me, and those breasts started to jiggle again.
“Nothing against your beautiful normal breasts,” I said as I kept my eyes on them. “But my god, this is fantastic.”
She snickered. “Enjoy them now. I hear that when I’m done breastfeeding, they’ll be deflated like used and overstretched tube socks.”
The visual wasn’t enough to put a damper on my raging cock.