Paige
twenty-one
“You can’t leave, we have too much scheduled! It’s imperative that you are present for all of these appointments, this is your wedding, after all. We’re on a tight timeline and there’s no time for deviations to appease your desire to try on dresses hours away.”
Mama is apoplectic, nearly blowing a fuse when I broach the subject. You would think I had told her I was headed out of the country, not going to Atlanta overnight to dress shop.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, I’m sure there will be plenty of time to make me review table linens or what cardstock to use for the place cards,” I cajole, my voice wavering with the effort to argue in the face of her anger, but I’m managing to stick to the decision I’ve made rather than let her dissuade me.
Slowly, I’m winning more of the battles I pick than losing.
It gives me the confidence to keep insisting on my own happiness, but it’s not easy.
Resetting my default is no joke, and walking the razor-thin line of being the willing participant in this wedding despite hating every second of it so she’ll relinquish the trust is exhausting.
I’m constantly weighing the risks of pushing back too hard or on too many details, and it adds an extra level of anxiety to my already fraught state.
“You have to take this seriously, Paige. Your future depends on it. You. Cannot. Leave.” She punctuates those last words by clapping her hands like I’m a simpleton in need of short sentences. It rouses a fire in me that I wasn’t sure I had when faced with her displeasure, and I’m mad now, too.
“You can pick out whatever you think is best if it can’t wait a day,” I insist, knowing that’s what would happen, anyway.
It doesn’t matter if I want a different option, Mama will end up going with her choice regardless.
I’m a redundancy that makes her feel like she’s letting me be a part of the selection process when I’m just an observer.
“Paige Fairchild, you will stay here even if I have to lock you in myself,” Mama threatens, moving toward me like she’s going to physically restrain me to keep me from leaving her house.
I take a quick step back and find the wall at my back. I’m not exactly worried Mama will resort to violence, but I also can’t put it past her.
Hayes steps between us, done with being the silent observer as I wage war with my mother.
He is radiating anger and his eyes flash darkly.
“That’s enough,” he rumbles, his voice carrying the terror-inducing and destructive force of an earthquake.
“You will not threaten my wife like that ever again. You should remember to address her as Paige Olsen going forward as she is no longer just your daughter, but a powerful woman in her own right who deserves your respect.”
Mama stops her advance toward me with a look of surprise crossing her face. Maybe she realized how out of line she was being, or maybe she’s just stunned someone stepped in to defend me for once against her tirade.
My mouth drops open at his tone and the words he just spoke.
I look up at him, grateful for his interference, but this is a boundary I have to defend myself when it comes to the relationship I have with Mama.
I’m also glad I’m not on the receiving end of that look and don’t envy Mama for it, even if she can launch her own scary looks right back.
I reach for Hayes’s arm and keep him from unleashing his fury on Mama, who rightly deserves it.
“I’ve made my choice of where I would like to look for a wedding dress, on my own, and I’m going whether you want me to or not.
” My voice is steady, thanks to the reminder from Hayes that I am powerful and I do deserve her respect, which is a win on its own.
“I requested that I would pick out my own dress when I agreed to this whole thing. If I want to go to a store that I know carries dresses I like and I’m comfortable in, it’s worth a lost day of planning with you. ”
“Mothers are supposed to be there when their daughters try on wedding dresses. It is my right to be a part of this process,” Mama argues, clutching at her chest like she’s been personally affronted by my assertion.
Hayes makes a noise of frustration next to me and I know he’s a second away from letting her have it. I gently run my hand up and down his back and turn to Mama again.
“You’re the one that insisted on this tight timeline.
If we had more time, we could have all of the normal wedding planning mother-and-daughter moments.
As it is, you had your chance yesterday, and I wasn’t satisfied with the experience.
We’re doing this our way or not at all. You can get on board and still have the event you want so bad, or you can let this all be for nothing.
” I cross my arms over my chest to keep my hands from visibly shaking.
I’m doing a decent job of standing up for myself, but it comes at a price.
The guilt, anxiety, and frustration coalesce in my belly and turn into a vile thing that has me unsure if I just made the worst decision ever, or the best.
Mama stares me down, her expression is fierce and her own arms crossed. Slowly, the anger recedes, and she looks away first, conceding the battle so she can win her war.
“Fine. Go to that godforsaken place and leave your mother out of the process. I guess I’ll never have that moment with you when you find the dress of your dreams.” Elation fills me that I have won this fight, small as it may be.
“Mama, it doesn’t matter if you see me in the dress the moment I find it.
We were able to have the bridal shop experience together and that will be enough.
You’ll be the one buttoning me into the dress on the wedding day, and we can have that special moment together then,” I say as a peace offering, despite still thrilling from the moment of victory.
“You wound me, Paige. That’s hardly a consolation.”
“That’s what you’re getting, Mama. Count yourself lucky to get that much with this debacle you call a wedding.”
We flew into Atlanta this morning after leaving Mama’s and I’m making the most of my freedom by spending a good portion of the day dress-shopping with Angela at Haute Belle while Hayes runs his own errands.
I called ahead and Angela closed the shop so she could give me the one-on-one attention that was required, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
I picked out the wedding dress of my dreams and I didn’t even feel bad about doing it on my own without Mama present.
I also found something for the reception and even picked a dress to wear to the rehearsal.
I didn’t have to force myself into ballgowns that didn’t fit or fight for the style I wanted like I had to yesterday with Mama.
Angela worked her magic to make sure the dresses were exactly what I wanted, adding a few special touches to make them custom as a personal request. She’s a magician with how quickly she can perfectly alter a gown off the rack to fit like a couture piece.
“I take it this was a successful few hours?” Hayes asks, entering the shop.
He doesn’t bat an eye at the stack of garment bags, shoe boxes, and jewelry cases stacked on a blush pink settee at the front of the shop where Angela and I have been chatting.
He merely pulls out his wallet and hands his black AMEX to Angela, who dutifully rings up my purchases.
“Honey, you’re going to die when you see what she has planned,” Angela says, handing Hayes a receipt with his card and helping us carry my items to the black Mercedes-AMG G63 SUV parked in front of Haute Belle.
“Looks like you were busy, also.” I nudge a few bags over to make room for my shoes.
“I can’t wear just any old tux in the closet to get married to you again.”
“And all the other stuff?”
“Some are presents for you, others you’ll see eventually.”
“Girl, you better take this man home and open up your presents. I know I would.” Angela pulls me into a warm hug, which I return.
“Thank you for everything. You made this so easy, and I have exactly what I imagined.”
“I’m the one who should be thanking you for everything. Since you’ve been shopping here, business has been booming.” Her demure pink lips spread wide in a smile, and I know she is thrilled with this turn of events. It’s the least I could hope for given how kind she’s been to me.
I smile back. “I’m glad people are recognizing the talent and artistry you put into every dress. I guess that’s the one good thing being on the Haute List has brought.” I shake my head thinking about that site.
“Have fun this week and don’t let your mama get you down.
Do what feels right and fight for your happiness,” Angela says, waving from the shop door.
Not only did Angela work literal magic on the dresses, but she also was a wonderful sounding board for the mess Mama has made and gave me plenty of advice along with listening to my woeful tales.
“Are you hungry?” Hayes asks when I settle into the passenger seat.
“Starving. I could eat an entire pizza right now.”
“How about I order ahead at Napoletana and we can take it home for a quiet evening?”
“You read my mind, that sounds absolutely delicious.”
Hayes taps the dash and dials, placing our pizza order and asking for the chocolate cake for dessert on top of it.
I smile and curl my legs under me as I turn a bit in my seat to stare at his dignified profile. He got a haircut, I realize.
“Your hair is shorter!” I reach over and run my hand along the velvety smooth buzz on the back of his head and scratch my nails against his scalp. Thankfully, the top is still long enough to push back and even flop rakishly over his eyes when he’s above me if I’m lucky.
“Fuck, that feels good,” he rumbles, pressing his head into my hand.
“And you shaved!” I run the backs of my fingers against his cheeks, feeling the soft suppleness of his skin without a hint of stubble.
“You had a spa day without me? How dare you,” I joke, taking his chin in my hand when the car comes to a complete stop at an intersection.
I pull his face toward me as I lean over the center console so I can rub my face against his and nuzzle my nose along his jaw.
He feels so good. I want to rub my entire body along his.
I gravitate toward his mouth like a magnet finding its match and kiss him slowly.
A horn honks and I jump away, startled, as Hayes chuckles and continues our drive to Napoletana.
“I’m really glad we ordered to go. If you’re going to pet and kiss me like that, I would prefer to be home with you where I can really do something about it.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, angel. I’m feeling extra depraved right now.” His words are silk over gravel, and I feel my whole body flush in response. Knowing he wants these depraved things with me makes up for not knowing exactly what that means.
“Why not enlighten me, then?” I reach over and slide my hand up his thigh, feeling him warm and solid. He’s not kidding, he is majorly turned on.
“Do you really want me to elaborate, or would you rather find out when I get you home?”
I pull my lip in with my teeth and think that through. “I definitely want to hear you say it out loud, first.” I squeeze him then and get a hiss that is far from pain and all excitement.
“When I get you home, I’m sending you up to the bedroom, alone,” he begins, rolling his hips under my hand.
“Why alone?”
“I want you to strip down to your panties and wait on the bed for me.”
“That makes me nervous.”
“You should be. I have plans for you, my love.”
I feel a thrill hearing him call me that in his sexy growl and suddenly the nerves are all eager anticipation. “What will you be doing?”
“Putting Cerberus in his kennel so if either of us screams he’s not interrupting.”
Holy sugar honey iced tea. I am in for something tonight. A shiver runs down my spine and goosebumps dot my arms in excitement. Me, excited over some sexy shenanigans? Whoa Nelly, I must be really getting into this.
“When I find you, on your knees, I’m going to make you watch patiently while I undress.”
I swallow hard and look at him. His eyes are that deep jungle green that promises unending pleasure and a promise to take me past my self-imposed limits without much effort.
“I love watching you. You’re so graceful.”
“Graceful?” he asks, sparing me a quick look with furrowed brows.
“Yes, you’re graceful, even if that doesn’t seem like the best word for it.
” I shake my head, trying to pin down my exact thoughts.
“Your body is ridiculous, like something that should be in a museum. You’re a Greek god made of marble, all perfect planes and sculpted contours.
There is grace to every movement, and brutality, too. ”
“That’s more like it. I’m definitely more brute than grace.”
I laugh. “Back to what you have in store for me, please.”
The smile that curls his lips is slow and sinful. Predatory and pleased. His eyes are growing heavy-lidded even now. “Are you wet already, baby?”
I shift and feel the full body flush rush across my skin again. “Soaked,” I admit in a ragged whisper.
Hayes lays his hand over mine, making us both grip his big, incredibly hard cock. Oooh. Just thinking the word does things to me. I shiver again as Hayes slowly shifts my hand, stroking him over his pants.
“Good.” The low tremor and finality of the word stokes a fire in my belly. He’s not messing around. He really does have something in store for me.
“Will I get to touch you once you’re undressed?”
“You will get to do anything you please. It’s about time you learned how to take control and demand what you want.”
I swallow audibly. This is a life lesson, not just a sex lesson he has planned. I find it intriguing. “How… How will I do that?”
“I’ll guide you until you’re comfortable, and then you’ll try whatever comes into that beautiful brain of yours and I will be your test subject. You’re going to be very good at dirty talk and role-play before long, and I can’t. Fucking. Wait.”
My throat goes dry, and I don’t think there’s enough water in the world to relieve this parched feeling. Dirty talk and role-playing? Me? The virgin up until a few weeks ago, who never even flirted with a man, will be good at that?
Hayes squeezes my hand and in turn I squeeze him causing him to groan. “And angel?”
“Yes?”
“We’re going to be very, very tired before the night is over.”