Chapter 32 – Janelle
Chapter Thirty-Two
Janelle
He knew that, didn’t he? My heart pounds as Zeb’s silence is conspicuous on the other side of the door.
I can’t believe this. I can’t marry Zeb.
I don’t know him. He doesn’t love me. We haven’t been through any ups and downs together.
We only had sex once and we’re not Instagram official.
But I have my hand pressed to the door, even with this hesitation. Why am I even entertaining this?
“I want to marry you,” Zeb says. “I love you, Janelle.”
His voice sounds so deep and sexy that I want to fling the door open and just trust him. But…
“I’ve heard that before, Zeb. What happens when you get tired or tempted by somebody else? What happens when I do something you don’t like?”
“Janelle, I need you to listen,” he says. “Okay, angel?”
Fuck, that voice. I wish that I had better control over myself. Because his voice gets me instantly wet. I don’t feel like I have a choice but to listen to him. My body responds without me.
“I will never leave you,” he says. “I know what you’ve been through. And if it makes you feel better, I will take care of the man who hurt you. I will make sure nobody ever hurts you again, and I will love you until the end of my life. I promise, Janelle.”
I still can’t open the door. I want to believe him, and maybe a part of me does, but if I open the door, I’ll be walking into a new life that I’m not ready for in the slightest.
“How can I marry someone I barely know when a guy I trusted cheated on me, Zeb? I want a real answer.”
“You really think I care about any other woman? I would kill Rana right now to prove that I don’t.”
I throw the door open to find Zeb standing there with a big grin on his face. He’s not going to kill Rana. I throw my fist at his chest. Zeb catches it and then wrests my body against his and grabs my chin with his free hand. My eyes meet his and my heart nearly leaps out of my mouth.
“Gotcha,” he whispers. “Sorry…”
Zeb bends at his hips and kisses me. The first burst of soft warmth spreads through every inch of my body slowly.
I whimper and lean against Zeb’s chest, falling against the firm chiseled muscles.
He feels so warm… so good. His lips tease mine open and Zeb’s tongue slips into my mouth.
Tasting him sends another surge of arousal through me.
His grip on my wrist loosens and my hand slides against his chest. Don’t leave this man, Janelle. Don’t…
The desire to be with him feels so strong that instinctively, I pull away, only to find Zeb’s hands moving slowly to my waist. His face darkens.
“There is no other woman for me, Janelle,” he says. “No temptation can sway an honest man away from his choice – and you are mine.”
My body trembles with nervousness. He means it. And he sees my fear so plainly that I worry he’ll take advantage of it. Zeb just kisses me again – and I kiss him back slowly. This time, he pulls away, but only because he can’t keep the words in his mouth any longer.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much it hurts, Janelle.”
“I love you too.” I don’t know why it feels so natural to say this.
He didn’t call me angel, he used my real name. That makes his words seem even more serious.
“You mean that?” Zeb asks.
“Yes.”
“Even if you think I’ll cheat on you?”
“I never said that.”
“You implied it,” he whispers. “But I’ll deal with you after we’re married.”
This time, he doesn’t let me take a step backwards. The energy between the two of us shifts as Zeb’s hands tighten at my hips. His fingers sink into my flesh. My thickness feels like a burden now that I’m too fluffy to slither or slip out of Zeb’s grasp.
“We’re just setting a date, right?”
Zeb’s face is so stern, that I know I’m wrong. If he didn’t have bad news, he wouldn’t have a death grip on my waist. Maybe I do know him well enough to marry him.
“No,” he says. “Ruger and the others left to get witnesses and a priest.”
“A priest? Are we… religious?” I squeak out. I don’t know what kind of fuck ass question this is, but I’m buying time while all the questions I have about this wedding rush into my head.
“We can have a bigger party whenever you want,” he says. “And invite your family. I’ll clean up and wear my Ranger uniform and everything.”
While the Army Ranger uniform would provoke fewer questions than a biker cut to my family members, we would still have plenty of questions to answer. And right now, there’s still the question of Rana. And a wedding dress.
“What about Rana?”
“She’s one of the witnesses,” Zeb said. “I shouldn’t have left her behind. I’m sorry.”
“What about a wedding dress?”
“You look fine in what you’re wearing.”
Men are literally insane. I’m wearing a pair of leggings that my coochie has sweat in for way too long.
My armpits have long devoured my last application of forty-eight hour deodorant.
There’s an oily sheen on my face. My hair looks like several birds fought over my curls to create a nest for themselves…
I’m in no shape for a quick run to the grocery store, and in far less shape for a wedding.
“Are you serious?”
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Janelle. I mean it.”
He really does. But I’m still not getting married in what amounts to dirty pajamas.
“I appreciate the compliment, Zeb. But I at least need clean clothing.”
“Zayna said she would get a few things. She’ll think of a dress.”
I feel slightly better that Zayna will be helping out, but I’m not thrilled at the idea of this forced marriage. Even if I love Zeb…
“You still worried?” he interrupts my train of thought. I nod.
“It’s a whole life together, Janelle. Whatever you worry about will still be there once we tie the knot. And I’ll be with you to handle it.”
I want so badly to believe him. But it’s still happening so fast. We just reunited after a messy separation where I ran away from Zeb and had a crash out road trip with Rana that barely took us out of Oklahoma. I doubt marriage will fix things between us.
And if it doesn’t, what happens next?