Chapter 15
Roman
Istick out like a sore thumb, and I couldn’t give two fucks about it. Besides my physical stature, my tattoos and hair set me apart. And probably my face.
I must be frowning—probably have been all night—because Eloise playfully frowns at me before breaking up into giggles, elbowing me about how she didn’t need me to scare anyone away.
While I’m not doing it on purpose, my glower does seem to be doing the trick to keep anyone from saying any shit to her.
After the pleasant introduction to her mother and that too-short kiss by the lake, we headed back to our room to change for this rehearsal and dinner. When I asked Eloise if I needed to pack anything special for this weekend, she said a suit for the wedding but everything else was casual.
Well, casual apparently means a fuck of a lot different to me, because while I’m in jeans and a plain gray T-shirt, all the other men are in polo shirts and pants with creases, the women in nice dresses.
Even Eloise changed into some flowery number with fluffy sleeves and these boots that hit her knees. Sexy as hell.
But I don’t give a shit about fitting in. I’m not here to impress anyone.
I’m only here for Eloise.
She wanted me to stay with her during the rehearsal, and even though it seemed like the bride and groom didn’t want me there, no one said anything to me about taking a seat in the back.
As soon as it was over, I met her at the top of the aisle, put my hand at the small of her back, and guided her into me, kissing her forehead.
Her cousin, Lily, a woman who appeared to have the personality of a two-by-four with the body of one as well, watched the whole thing.
I know Eloise’s mother gives her shit about her appearance, but my girl’s beautiful.
Those lively green eyes and full lips. Her smile—pure joy.
Not to mention her bangin’ body. Tall and luscious with thighs I have trouble not touching.
Sweet and sexy and undeserving of the shit her family puts her through.
After the rehearsal, we were herded into this restaurant on the other side of the lodge, where Eloise introduced me to her father, Robert, her cocky son of a bitch brother, Alex, and a few other in-laws.
Of course, there was also her aunt Beverly, a real viper, and the groom, Nick, who seemed to be more interested in drinking than doing whatever it was he was supposed to with Lily.
The lot of them have no idea what an amazing person Eloise is, either dismissing her outright or putting her down, and I quickly realized the best way to shield her is to keep her at my side with my hands or lips on her at all times.
A real chore, to be sure.
If I felt her getting tense during any conversation, I simply curled my arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple or held on to the back of her neck to bring her closer to me.
Each time, whoever it was making her feel bad—her mom, aunt, cousin, or that old woman who smelled like a mix of rubbing alcohol and some god-awful perfume that made me sneeze—usually turned tail pretty quick, evidently put off by the very mild PDA.
Or maybe it’s because I’m the one with my hands all over her.
Me with my big hands and tattoos and worn denim. How dare I?
Although, it’s not like they protected her otherwise. Treat her like shit, cool. Have her bring a guy like me home, horror.
Fuck ’em.
Fuck ’em all.
“What time does this thing end?” I whisper into Eloise’s ear, where we sit alone at a table in the corner, her father having vacated the seat across from us.
Robert Thorne is an okay guy. He doesn’t make Eloise nervous, so he automatically receives a pass from me, although he would’ve earned it anyway because he’s the only one here who’s tried to engage me in conversation.
Not that I’m a great conversationalist, but he at least asked how Eloise and I met—when I carried in a bag of flour for her, not a lie—and how long we’ve been together—about three months, definite lie.
Coulda fooled me for how easy it feels to be with her, though.
She’s mine. For now. Even if it’s pretend. Even if it’s only for the weekend.
“I think we can sneak out soon,” she answers, meeting my gaze. “I’m going to run to the bathroom and make another lap around the room so it doesn’t look so suspicious, and then we’ll go. ’Kay?”
I nod and help to scoot her chair back, dragging my hand over the back of her thigh, the hem of her dress dusting my forearm. I’d like to flip it up and bend her over, see if I could make her skin flush as pink as the cotton.
I play out that fantasy in my mind for about ten minutes, only stopping when I start to get hard behind my zipper.
That’s when I realize she still hasn’t returned from the bathroom and coast my gaze around, searching for her.
There’re about thirty people here, and she’s not one of them.
I stalk over to the door I saw her exit from and immediately spot the signs for the restrooms. Except I don’t need to go any farther than a few more steps because Katherine Thorne has Eloise cornered, her voice no more than a low hiss.
“…constantly touching and kissing you. It’s completely inappropriate.”
Eloise’s hands are balled into fists at her sides, her cheeks red from anger. “How is it inappropriate? He’s holding my hand and kissing my cheek. It’s not like he’s sticking his tongue down my throat.”
“It’s more than that, and you know it.”
“I don’t know it,” Eloise says, her voice rising, which earns a stern finger pointed at her.
I move to take a step forward when Katherine says, “He looks at you like he’s going to strip you down and have sex with you right in the middle of the room.”
I freeze.
’Cause she’s not wrong.
That is what I want to do.
Eloise rolls her lips over her teeth, obviously fighting a laugh, which pisses Katherine off more.
“He’s my boyfriend, Mom,” she says, and that sets me back on my heels. She’s introduced me as her boyfriend all day, but hearing her say it in that voice, like she’s fighting for me—for us—it feels real.
“So?” Katherine throws her hands up. “Doesn’t mean you two have to act like that.”
Eloise lets her head fall back to her shoulders, her eyes on the ceiling as she breathes a few times. When she speaks to her mother again, it’s much quieter, more defeated. I know before I hear the first word that it’ll make me rage.
“If I didn’t come with a date, you’d be disappointed. I come with a date, and you’re disappointed. Is there anything I can do that doesn’t make me a disappointment?”
Her words gut me.
And I charge ahead, speaking before I even fully form the words in my brain.
“You’re not a disappointment,” I growl out, standing between her and her mother.
I take her face in my hands. “You hear me? You are not a disappointment. You’re gorgeous and funny and smart and sweet.
” I lower my forehead to hers, breathing life into my words.
“So fucking sweet, my Eloise. Don’t let anyone make you feel any different. ”
When I lift my head and find her eyes, she’s blinking rapidly, chin trembling. Almost like she doesn’t hear it enough.
Fuck that.
I twine our hands together and pivot, effectively blocking Eloise from her mother. If Beverly’s a viper, Katherine is a fucking vulture, shredding her own daughter to pieces.
I glare at the woman, and she visibly shrinks away. “You have anything to say to me? To my face?”
She purses her lips, trying to view Eloise behind me, but she can’t. I won’t allow it.
“You’ve had enough time ripping her apart, don’t you think?” I say, keeping my voice as even as possible. “Making her feel like a disappointment.”
“She’s not…” Katherine stands on her toes, peering around my side. “You’re not, Eloise.”
I scoff. “Why don’t you try it with some feeling next time, huh?
Maybe it’ll sound more believable.” I pull Eloise behind me, angling my body to shield her as we pass Mrs. Thorne, not bothering to lower my voice as I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into my side.
“Is this what you’ve had to put up with all these years? ”
Eloise sniffles once and then shakes her head like she has water in her ears. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“It’s not fine, and you’re not fine.” I tug her into an alcove and push her back against the wall, skating my hands over her as if searching for bullet wounds.
Might as well be, for how her mother so easily cut her down.
When I’m satisfied Eloise is all right for the moment, I slide one hand around her neck and the other around her waist. “Your mother’s full of shit, you know that, right?”
She nods, but it’s not good enough.
“Say it.”
“She’s full of shit.”
“I know it’s hard, but don’t let her make you feel bad. She’s taking out her unhappiness on you, but it’s bullshit. Whatever she says, it’s wrong.”
“I know,” Eloise eventually replies, too weakly for me.
I want my confident girl back.
“Tell me what you’re good at.”
She wrenches her head back. “What?”
“Tell me what you’re good at.” I bend my neck, placing a kiss against the corner of her mouth. “Tell me something you’re good at, and I’ll show you what I’m good at.”
Her exhale is ragged, and she sways slightly, her hands clinging to my T-shirt. “I, um, I’m really good at baking.”
“Yeah, you are.” I kiss her lips but don’t linger. “What else?”
“I…am good at…” She tilts her head up when I skim my nose along her jaw. “Riding a bike.”
I nip her earlobe. “I think you can do better than that. What else are you good at?”
She swallows. “Being a friend.”
I hum in agreement and leave a wet kiss on her throat. “You’re a really great friend.”
Her tits brush my torso with each of her breaths. “I’m pretty good at sports. Volleyball, basketball, even golf.”
I picture her in a tiny golf skirt, her thick thighs and ass on display, and lower my mouth to her collarbone, licking the divot there. “What else are you good at?”
“Making people laugh.”