Chapter 19
JULES
Flash forward to the weekend, and I feel like Lincoln and I are back to tiptoeing around each other.
Things heated up way more than expected on our date the other night. Now, it feels tricky, finding the middle ground.
How much affection do we display for the public? Where do we draw the line with PDA before our bodies start getting carried away? We’re still trying to figure out the right balance.
Tonight is family dinner at Great Grandma’s. We pull onto the long, tree-lined driveway leading to her secluded mansion, and my heart is pounding in my throat.
Cameron sits in the backseat in his little button-up shirt, looking like Lincoln’s mini-me. “Wo-o-o-o-w! This place is so cool…” He has his face pressed to his window as we drive along.
Lincoln chuckles. “Agreed, Buddy. I’d bet it’s even cooler on the inside. Remember what we talked about?”
Cameron nods dutifully. “Be on my best behavior. No running. Say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. And use my inside voice. Like a gentleman.”
His father nods proudly. “You’ve got it.”
Lincoln cuts his engine behind one of my cousins’ fancy sports cars parked on the circular drive. He angles his body to face me.
“You ready?” he asks, those blue eyes sharp and intense beneath his thick, furrowed eyebrows.
I slip my hand into my leather purse and graze my fingers over the marriage contract, just to refocus on why this dinner matters. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I manage to croak out.
Lincoln hesitates for a moment. He throws a glance at Cameron in the backseat. Then, he brings his attention back to me, pulling something out of the breast pocket of his wool coat. My eyebrows quirk upward when he flips open the ring box he’s holding.
I see a small oval precious stone in the palest shade of pink. Despite the swirly floral patterns etched into the simple rose-gold band, the ring is far from flashy and showy, and there’s something so sweet and genuine about the vintage design.
“It’s beautiful…” I say before I can catch myself.
I don’t do pink. I never have. But this ring steals my breath away.
“We can’t have you walking around with that cheap, fake ring anymore.” He chuckles quietly. He sits straighter and clears his throat. “Can I?”
A tingle blooms in my stomach when he gallantly reaches for my hand. I nod, laying my palm in his.
Lincoln jimmies the cheap ring off my finger, carefully replacing it with the pink stone. My left lung climbs into my throat as we both sit there, admiring the way the gorgeous gem looks on my tattooed hand.
“I was about to just order a replacement ring from a jeweler online,” he says quietly. “But something drew me to the antique store in town. I saw this one—feminine…delicate…precious—and it instantly made me think of you.”
“Me…?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
Lincoln nods reverently.“The shop owner told me that the naturally-occurring pink diamond is considered one of the rarest diamonds to exist.” His eyes peek up to mine with hesitation. “I’d say you’re pretty darn rare, too, Jules.”
I glance down at the ring again. Feminine. Delicate. Precious. Rare.
Pink.
No-one’s ever seen me that way.
But is that how Lincoln sees me? Is that what he’s trying to say?
The tingling in my stomach intensifies, spreading all the way up my eyeballs. This feeling is so unfamiliar, and I’m at risk of being swept up in it. I force myself to remember that the diamond may be real, but this marriage won’t be. I have to conduct myself accordingly.
“Cool. Thanks,” I say, trying to sound normal as I slip my hand from his.
Unaffected and detached. “It must cost a fortune. I’ll give it back once we’re…
” My voice trails off when I glance into the backseat and find Cameron staring right at us.
I clear my throat. “Ready for dinner?” I ask, forcing a smile.
The little boy’s own smile looks just as strained. “Yes,” he says quietly before his stare falls to his lap.
Damn. He’s still not comfortable with me. Well, at least, he’s not comfortable with me as his stepmother. Can’t say I blame the kid. I’m not exactly the ‘step-motherly’ type.
With a nod, Lincoln climbs out of the car, helping Cameron out before rounding to my side and opening the door.
The three of us step into Great-Grandma’s house, and despite being worried all day about my fake fiancé’s mood, I quickly realize that my anxiety was all for nothing.
If Lincoln feels weird over whatever is happening between us, you’d never guess it now. Because he’s too busy charming the pants off my great-grandmother at the moment.
“You have such a beautiful home, Mrs. Lannister. And that view of the lake—I can only imagine how stunning it looks once the garden is in full bloom in the summer,” he’s saying after introductions are made.
“My groundskeeper, Humphrey, does a wonderful job of keeping the entire estate in an impeccable condition,” Great-Grandma breathes softly, her hands clasped over her chest as she gazes out the window to where Humphrey is currently working in the yard with his crew of helpers.
“This place would be in shambles without him.”
I’m maybe a little annoyed that Lincoln is able to win her over so easily. Though I have to remind myself that it’s all for the greater good.
The fact that Josephine the Terror is practically in love with my new fiancé helps pave the way for our plans to work. She’s just absolutely smitten with Mr. Button-Up. This is freaking fantastic.
If only the man was so charming and polite with me as well.
It’s not long before Lincoln has the whole table in stitches, laughing at all his one-liners and self-deprecating jokes. Great-Grandma is practically eating out of his big, smooth palm.
Shit—my great-grandmother has a crush on my husband-to-be. Hmm…Maybe she should marry him.
Lincoln makes it all look so effortless. You can tell he’s a professional at fooling people.
Well, everyone except me.
I see past it all. Lincoln’s good at putting on a pretty face for my family. He’s good at hiding his worries, his stress, and his generational pain.
I take a small amount of pride in knowing that I’m the only one in this room who knows Lincoln on a deeper level. That I’m the only one here who knows what motivates him, what drives him.
When Great-Grandma is not doting on Lincoln, she’s falling head over heels for a sweet, innocent Cameron. He sits in the chair next to her all throughout dinner. She doesn’t even mind that he’s brought some toys to the formal table.
He talks Great-Grandma’s ear off, showing her his Hot Wheels and mansplaining car stuff in the cutest way.
“These two are my favorite,” he’s saying. “But this one here? It’s my most favorite. It’s a Chevy Corvette. This model is from 1974. Right, Dad?”
“That’s right, Son.” Lincoln nods proudly.
Cameron turns back to Great-Grandma. “1974 was a really long time ag—wait, were you alive back then?”
Everyone stifles their laughter, but Great Grandma grins widely. “I sure was. What would you say if I told you my husband had a car just like this?”
Cameron gasps. “Really?! He had a Corvette?”
She nods. “A red one.”
The little boy’s jaw drops open. “So cool…”
The rest of dinner continues on just as smoothly. I don’t have to say much, which is perfect for me. Lincoln fields most of the questions about our engagement, and I ignore the occasional whispers from my half-sisters and cousins.
As for my father and his evil wife, they skipped dinner, even though they were made aware that I’d be introducing the family to my future husband. No surprise there. I try not to let their absence affect me. Winning them over isn’t on my agenda anyway. Just Great-Grandma.
Which is why I nearly choke on my fondant au chocolat when she speaks to me during dessert. “Julissa, you two were hoping to have a short engagement period, correct?”
I nod.
She looks pleased. “What do you two think about having the wedding here at the estate?” she suggests, beaming at me, her bastard great-granddaughter.
All chatter around the table halts.
“Wow, I… Here? Are you…?” I stutter for a moment before looking to Lincoln for an answer. Help, please.
His eyes are just as big as mine. But he clears his throat and sits up taller. “We’d be honored.”
“Very well, then.” Great-Grandma claps her hands together.
She orders Martha to fetch her leather planner and bring it to the table. She sits in silence as her wrinkled fingers flip through the pages. She mutters to herself as she considers the options.
“Okay. This weekend here,” she says, stabbing the page and pushing the book toward Lincoln and me.
My eyes widen even further when I see the date she’s pointing at. “In two weeks?”
“Yes,” Great-Grandma answers, raising her wispy eyebrow at me. “Two weeks from yesterday. Will that be a problem?” she challenges.
Lincoln lays his hand on top of mine, interlacing our fingers with a broad smile. “That weekend will be perfect. The big day can’t come soon enough. I can’t wait to make this beautiful woman my bride.”
“It’s settled, then,” Great-Grandma announces to the table. “We’ll hold the wedding here in two weeks. Everyone is invited, and is expected to bring a proper guest.” She shoots a glare at Cousin Gina whose plus-one is noticeably absent today.
After dinner is cleared and everyone is milling around the foyer, collecting their jackets and getting ready to leave, my great-grandmother lays her hand on Cameron’s shoulder.
“Hold on a moment, dear. I have something for you.” The classy old broad shuffles away with her walking stick and then returns with a vintage toy car in her hand.
“Oh, wow…I can have it?” the little boy marvels, his eyes glued to the toy.
“My kids used to play with this a long, long time ago. I want you to have it now, Cameron.”
“What?!” Cousin Gina, who’s impregnated by her not-really fiancé, immediately objects. “That’s part of a set! Those are collector items that could be very valuable. You can’t just give them away.”
Josephine the Terror shoots her a dismissive glance. “I’d say your backside is just as valuable, dear, but that never stopped you from giving it away.”
Oh, burn.
My cousin gasps hard enough to crack a rib, and everyone else tries not to laugh.
Lincoln steps forward, putting a hand on my great-grandmother’s wrist. “Really. You don’t have to do this, Mrs. Lannister.”
“Nonsense.” Great-Grandma waves her hand away, completely unfazed by what the others are saying. “These are toys, and they deserve to be played with. And I want you to have it, dear.”
“Thank you so much.” Cameron accepts the toy and wraps his arms around my great-grandmother in an unexpected hug.
There’s some more grumbling, but no one else dares argue with the keeper of the trust funds.
As we’re saying our goodbyes, I don’t miss all the jealous, dirty looks my half-sisters and cousins are throwing my way. They’ve been ogling Lincoln all evening. And who wouldn’t?
Over six feet tall. Blue eyes. Blonde hair. He’s a living, breathing Ken doll. In a button-down shirt.
Except this Ken has a real package. An impressive one, too.
Nine inches and a quarter, I hear him whisper in my head.
I shiver.
Cousin Gina rubs a palm over her rapidly growing baby bump and mutters—loudly—to my half-sister, Hilary. “Seriously. I don’t get it. How can a girl like her get a man like that?”
Her words are like a punch to the gut. I’m not good enough. I’m still not good enough. I force myself not to react.
Hilary doesn’t answer Gina. She just meets my eyes across the foyer and sneers in my direction.
Damn. I feel two feet tall.
I don’t let it show, though. I’d never let it show. As if I’d ever give my detractors the pleasure of knowing that their insults hurt me.
I sigh the moment Lincoln silently slips his hand into mine and directs Cameron and me to the door. I should be feeling all mission accomplished with how this evening went. Great Grandma is in love with my new fiancé. But any feelings of relief don’t last long.
I know in my heart that my cousins and half-sisters think I don’t deserve a Lincoln Raines in my life. Now, I can’t shake the feeling that they’re going to try and sabotage this for me.
Because if they can’t get their hands on their own trust funds, they certainly don’t want me to have mine.
All I know is, I’m going to have to keep my guard up. Way, way up.