Chapter 6
Nate
JINGLE BELL ROCK
I watch as Elizabeth walks out of the kitchen, then hear the muffled sound of her moving through the second level as I look over to Whiskey, who is watching her walk away.
“If you go with her, you’re a traitor.” I point at him as he sniffs the air, then looks back to me.
“Yeah, you picked right,” I say, walking to his food bowl that I keep under the sink.
I fill it with kibble before putting it on the floor and giving myself a minute to get my body under control.
My cock’s at half-mast from her sitting there in her see-through top.
I grab my cup of coffee, bringing it to my lips.
“Jesus.” I shake my head. “I’m going to need you to get a hold of yourself.
” I look down at my cock, but Whiskey looks over at me like I’m talking to him.
“You too, buddy.” I motion with my chin.
He ignores what I’m saying as he puts his snout back into the bowl and finishing all his food.
I grab his bowl, rinse it off with water in the sink, and then put it in the dishwasher, before turning and making my way to my bedroom.
The spare bedroom door is open, but I hear Elizabeth moving in the bathroom. I walk into my bedroom, heading straight for my en-suite bathroom. Brushing my teeth, I then grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before slipping a sweater off the hanger and putting it on.
When I walk out of my closet, Whiskey is in the middle of my bed, stretched out on top of the dark blue down feather duvet that feels like you are lying on a cloud. “Let’s go.” I motion with my head toward the door. “I’m going to put you out before we leave.”
He follows me out of my bedroom, stopping to sniff under the now closed spare bedroom. The soft scent of Elizabeth’s perfume lingers in the hallway as I walk down the steps and make my way to the back door. I get it half open before Whiskey is running out into the yard.
I make my way over to the side door where the laundry room is and get the cat food ready. Filling the bowls and walking out, I hear her come down the stairs. I peek my head around the corner and see her dropping her bag by the door. “Are you escaping?” I ask her, motioning to her bag.
“Yes.” She turns and walks back to me, holding my sweater in her hand. She’s wearing a pair of jeans and a thick sweater now, thank God. “I’m taking it with me, in case I get my bedroom back, I won’t have to come back here.”
“You haven’t lived at home in at least seven years,” I point out to her as she puts my sweater back to where she got it from before.
“The first six months didn’t count. I didn’t know I wasn’t coming back, so it’s six and a half years,” she corrects me, “but it’s still my bedroom.”
“I’m pretty sure once you move out of your parents’ home, the bedroom you had is no longer yours.”
“My stuff is in there.” She’s never going to let you get the last word. Never. Never did. Never will.
“What stuff?” I ask her as I walk to the back door when I hear Whiskey scratching on the glass door.
“It’s none of your business what stuff.” She folds her arms over her chest. “It’s private.”
I chuckle sliding the door open and watch Whiskey step one paw in and then another one before going straight for her. His tail wags back and forth, as she bends and rubs his neck. “We should get going,” I tell her, and she gets back up and then walks in front of me.
“How did you have a change of clothes?” I ask her as I take her ass in and then my eyes quickly fly up to her head.
“I left these here the last time,” she explains, grabbing her sneakers and putting them on. “Present me is very pleased about past me’s decisions.”
I shake my head, not even sure how to handle that comment as I move to my boots and slide them on before grabbing my jacket and shrugging it on. “Are you going to be okay with just a sweater?” I ask her, about to hand her a spare jacket.
She shrugs. “I have a jacket at home, unless they decided to lend it to the person who is staying in my bedroom.”
I snort as I turn to look at Whiskey, who is sitting there in the hallway. “I’m leaving, buddy. I’ll be back soon.”
“That’s so sad.” She looks at me. “He’s going to be all alone.”
“He’s got the cats,” I joke. “Plus he’s in a warm two-bedroom home with two big beds and endless spots for him to lie down, without having to worry about paying the mortgage. I think he’ll be okay.” I open the door, and she looks at me and then back at Whiskey.
“Bye, Whiskey.” She waves her hand at him. “Chew on all his things,” she whispers to him, but it’s loud enough for me to hear.
She’s about to bend to grab her bag when I beat her to it. “Get in the truck,” I hiss at her and then look at Whiskey. “Don’t you dare chew anything.” He tilts his head to the side as if he’s going to think about it.
We walk out and she rushes to the truck, opening the door and getting in. “It’s freezing.”
She rubs her hands together, while I start the truck and put her bag in the back before making our way over to her house.
When we pull up, there are even more cars in the driveway than last night, if that is even possible. “Is the wedding today?” she mumbles as she looks at all the cars. “Like, are we late?”
I can’t help but laugh at her. “Maybe it’s a big family breakfast,” I tell her.
Her family has come to have these big family dinners on Sunday where they basically invite just about anyone over.
When summer months come around and most of the family comes to town to train or just relax, the dinners are even bigger.
She gets out of the truck. “Don’t forget my bag,” she reminds me.
“How about this,” I start, walking to meet her in front of my truck, “if by chance the hotel got the pipe fixed and then all the carpets are now dry and there is no damage…” Her eyes get smaller and smaller as I talk, the glare more vicious.
“…making it so you get your room back, I will gladly come back out and get it for you.”
“Have I mentioned that you’re the worst?” She tilts her head to the side, not waiting for me to answer her before she walks up her driveway and to her front door.
“More times than I care to remember,” I mumble, following her up to the front door where she pushes it open. The sound of people talking echoes all through the house. Kids are running up the stairs that lead to the basement and then toward the kitchen. A couple run past us and quickly say hi.
As we get closer to the kitchen, the sound of plates clinking together becomes louder. “Oh, she’s here.” I stop behind Elizabeth as Denise comes toward her. “We were worried about you. We kept trying to call you and it went straight to voicemail. You didn’t charge your phone.”
“I forgot,” she admits, “and you obviously weren’t that worried about me, you didn’t even blow up his phone.” She points over her shoulder at me.
“I tried to take good care of her, Denise,” I say, walking past her. “Don’t ask me how I did it, it was hard.” I kiss her cheek. “Smells good.”
“The caterers just got here,” she states, and I look at the massive island they have in their kitchen that is now filled with serving plates.
“Just got here?” Elizabeth questions. “People are eating.”
“Well, they were hungry.” She throws up her hands.
“Anyway, the older generation is in that room.” She points over her shoulder to the formal living room they only use on holidays, such as Christmas or birthdays.
“The wedding party”—she smiles at us–“is through there. Grab a plate and get on in there.”
“Mom,” Elizabeth says, “how’s the hotel doing?”
“Oh, good news,” she starts, “they were able to have a whole floor dried out overnight, so it can have some guests check in.”
“So, I can have my room back?” Her voice is hopeful, but the look on Denise’s face shows she is, in fact, not getting her room back.
“This is incredible,” she mumbles as she walks away from her.
“She’ll be okay,” I assure Denise. “Just don’t expect her to come back and visit for a few years. Closer to five, but not more than ten.”
“Great,” she says as she looks at Elizabeth, who is now scowling at her father who has taken her in his arms. Her arms are to the side like they are limp. “Just great.”
I shake my head and start toward the food, grabbing a plate and filling it with scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausage.
Leaving room for pancakes on the side, I walk into the room where the bridal party is assembling and see Joshua sitting at the head of the table with Macy beside him.
Two chairs are empty on his right side, so I walk up and pull out the chair. “Hey.”
“The best man has arrived,” he announces, slapping my shoulder and then squeezing it. “He lives.” I look over at him and he smirks.
“With the way Elizabeth was, it was a toss-up if she was going to slaughter you in your sleep or not.”
I chuckle at him. “I did sleep with one eye open, just in case. But she made me bring her bag on the off chance her room was free.” I grab the fork and cut the pancake.
“Incoming,” he warns, looking up and I feel the chair beside me being pulled out. “Hey,” he says to her, “you look nice.”
“I know,” she answers, making me burst out laughing. “You don’t, you look like shit.”
“He was up all night, icing his foot,” Macy defends from beside him and puts her arm around his shoulders, then uses her other hand to hold his cheek. “You look handsome.” She smiles at him.
“I’m about to throw up and I haven’t eaten anything,” Elizabeth deadpans, “he didn’t even offer to feed me.” She points to me and I gasp.
“I made you coffee and then he called to invite us over here,” I defend myself and she just shrugs.
“Let’s just say he’s not the friendliest host.” She side-eyes me and it’s my turn to glare at her. “He even made me wear a robe.”
“Bastard,” Joshua says. “Be better,” he scolds and then we eat in silence.
“Okay,” Macy says, clicking her fork on her cup, “if we can have everyone at the table’s attention.
” I sit back in my chair and look up at her.
“Before we start, we just want to thank everyone for being part of our special day.” She looks at each of us and smiles.
“I am so lucky that in nine days, I’ll be marrying the love of my life.
” She bends to kiss Joshua, who just beams up at her.
“We know some of you have come from far and wide to be here with us.” She looks at Elizabeth.
“And even though things are not going like they should be…” Her voice trails off and I see her bottom lip quiver.
Joshua gets to his feet and then winces when he remembers about his foot.
He whispers something in her ear, and she smiles at him.
“With that said”—she turns and reaches into her bag beside her and takes out a manila folder—“we have the final itinerary.” She jumps up and down with giddiness.
“Itinerary?” I hear Elizabeth from beside me.
“I thought we just had to, like, show up and look pretty.” She looks at me.
“Well, not you obviously. We don’t have time to do anything with that.
” She uses her hand to do a circle at my face, making Joshua snort out laughing.
Macy walks around the table handing out white papers to everyone and stopping behind Elizabeth, handing her the paper.
I hold out my hand for my own and look down and scan it quickly.
“Um,” Elizabeth says, looking to Joshua, who avoids looking back at her.
“We are in for a treat,” she chatters, “there are so many fun activities from snowman building to a gingerbread house competition to ice hockey fun and so much more.” She puts her hand on Joshua’s shoulder.
“Starting tonight at our first event at the karaoke bar.” It’s like she took happy pills this morning.
“It’s a little meet and greet to get to know everyone.
” She looks around the table. “It’s going to be so much fun. ”
“I pretty much know everyone,” Elizabeth retorts. “I mean, I have jet lag, you know flying across the world and all. Time change.”
“You’ll be fine,” I assure her, looking down at the paper.
“Don’t you have something else to do, like I don’t know, stop talking?” she asks me.
“Didn’t you work the night shift?” I look at her and her head turns around. “From what your father told me, you slept the same hours they slept.”
“Don’t believe everything he says,” she snaps between clenched teeth. “He also said I would always have a place here and he was wrong.”
“Okay, well,” Joshua says, breaking up our little fight, “you can spend the day resting so you will be in tip-top shape for tonight.”
“I don’t have anything to wear.” She shrugs. “My bag got lost.” She looks around the table and people avoid looking at her.
“Give it up,” I lean in and mumble in her ear.
“You give it up,” she hisses at me. “I have to find someone who can take me shopping,” she says smiling. “See everyone tonight.” She looks at me and grits her teeth at me. “Even you.”
I look down and hide my chuckle for fear she will stab me with a fork “by accident.”
“This looks like fun.” I look at Joshua, who shrugs and I know he isn’t the one who set this up. He is doing whatever Macy wants to keep her happy. “I’m looking forward to the tree farm.”
“I heard you can cut your own tree down,” Macy chirps, “and there are little trees for the people who are staying in the hotel that they can take back to the hotel and decorate in the lobby.”
“Fun,” I reply, looking back at Elizabeth. “You can help me decorate mine,” I tell her, smiling even bigger when I see her get even more annoyed. “You’re welcome.”