Chapter 25
The next morning, James and I stayed wrapped up in each other as long as we possibly could.
Morning crept into afternoon, and nothing short of the end of the world would have gotten that man out of bed.
Soft white sheets spilled over our skin, pooling in the divots where our bodies twisted together.
If it wasn’t his lips, James used his fingers to trace over my body, my veins a map for his touch that drew a path of goosebumps over my skin.
He was stalling, and damn it, it was working.
I’d hardly convinced him to let me have a bathroom break before his hands were back on me. I stood beside the bed, his hands on my hips. Talented hands that he’d spent all morning showing off.
“Come on, love,” he coaxed, pressing a soft kiss to my lower belly. “One more round.”
He squeezed, and my cock made a valiant attempt to rise again. I squirmed, tugging his hands free and bringing his fingers to my lips. “You have ‘one more rounded’ me three times already. I’d be surprised that I have anything left—ah, no you don’t!”
Hand in his hair, I tugged him from where that fucking tongue of his was trying to lick its way down the soft smattering of hair over my belly. I never thought I’d see the day where I denied him sex—usually I was the one who made him late.
Today, though, we had a special meeting… one that I’d put off for way too long.
James should have met my parents long before our wedding day, but between conflicting schedules and all the vampire business, he hadn’t had the chance.
Now, they were waiting downstairs for us.
We said we’d meet them for brunch, and we were already late.
Our chances of getting there without my mother busting our door down herself were growing slim.
“Do you really want my parents’ first impression of you to be naked, with your mouth on my—ah, you son of a bitch!”
James’s shoulders shook with laughter. “I’m not worried, love.” He sat back and finally gave me a break from his mouth, but the bastard stretched out, drawing my eyes down his cut abs and his hard cock jutting out from between his thighs. “Parents love me.”
“Then why are you stalling?”
“Why are you letting me stall?” he countered.
Jerk. “All right. You say parents love you?” Refusing to fall into his spell—again—I took slow, backward steps toward the ensuite bathroom. “Time to prove it.”
James rose from the bed, dark eyes on me.
I was his prey, and he’d stop at nothing to get it.
I rushed into the bathroom, but I couldn’t out-speed a vampire.
He pinned me against the counter, the marble cool against my heated skin.
His hands curled around my ass, squeezing my cheeks before continuing around to my stomach and up my chest.
“What do I get if I win that bet?” he growled in my ear. The sound almost made me give in—almost.
What did crumble my resolve, however, was the look in his eyes when I glanced into the mirror.
Bright red, there was no hint of the brown in his irises.
He squeezed my hips again and I sighed, head dropping back to his shoulder and exposing one of my marks for him.
He tongued over the bruise, sending sparks dancing across my skin.
I hadn’t stood a chance.
“Nothing you don’t already have, vampire.”
We were another twenty minutes late. Rushing out of the shower, we pulled on the first sets of jeans and T-shirts we could find, and with water still dripping from our hair, we made our way down to the hotel’s restaurant.
Despite James’s calm and cool demeanor as he took my hand, I felt his nerves pressing through the bond.
Scanning the room, I squeezed his fingers with mine.
“Easy, vampire.”
I hoped my words translated across with the simple gesture—even if I dropped his hand a second later.
“Mom!”
She’d risen from their table in the corner, beelining toward me with her arms wide open.
When she wrapped them around my shoulders, every ounce of tension melted from my body.
Her dark, styled curls tickled my nose, but I didn’t care.
Until I’d met James, hers were the only arms—and hers the only voice—that could ease my worries.
I hadn’t realized how long I’d been without it and how much I missed it.
With James’s hand on the small of my back, and Mom’s White Diamonds perfume embracing me like a cloud of comfort, every bit of stress I’d felt over the last few months just… vanished.
Letting out a breath, I inhaled deeply and squeezed my mom a little tighter. I was here, in Vegas, surrounded by those closest to us. And at the end of it all, I’d be married to the man I loved.
I could put the supernatural stuff out of my mind for a while.
Mom sniffled and pulled back, combing her hands through my wild curls. “I can’t believe my baby boy is getting married.” She had tears in her eyes.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, and I scolded her mockingly. “Mom!” But James squeezed my side.
“Oh, please. Like you’re not eating up all of this attention.”
Hands still grasping Mom’s, I leaned back into my fiancé’s touch. “Mom, this is—”
“James,” she finished for me, an ear-to-ear grin coming over her face. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”
“Don’t you dare start that ‘Mrs.’ nonsense—that’s for old women.” Mom took my hand and peered at James over her shoulder as she turned in the direction of the table. “It’s Meredith to you.”
We followed Mom toward the table, where my dad sat bent over his phone.
Mom slid into the booth next to him, and James and I took the other side.
On the outside, James oozed confidence as he always did.
However, when he found my hand under the table and gave it a tight squeeze, I found myself squirming at the pressure.
Nerves pressed against the bond, and while Mom was distracted at pulling Dad away from his phone, I whispered in a voice only a vampire could hear, “Relax, baby. They’re going to love you. ”
I had my mom’s hair, and her spirit, but the ocean blue eyes that tied me to Hannah were all from my dad.
He used to joke that it was the only thing that proved I was his.
A retired blue-collar worker, he was all tanned skin and calloused hands—hands that worked hard so my mom never had to.
I admired him—I admired both of them. As much of a hellion as I was, I don’t think I turned out too terrible with their guidance.
“So, James,” Dad started. James nearly jumped out of his skin in response, and despite knowing that I would pay for it later, I snickered.
“You have to tell us what you did to get this one,” Dad pointed at me, and suddenly I felt like that same teenager who got caught sneaking around the water tower, “to settle down.”
Before either of us could respond, my mother quipped, “Andrew, I don’t think we need to hear those details.”
Dad dropped his face into his hands. I choked on the mouthful of water I’d taken, and James just sat there, jaw dropped. Mom winked at him over her peach daiquiri, and my vampire finally relaxed and huffed out a laugh.
“I see where you get it from now, love,” James said.
Dad shared an aggrieved look with James. “Imagine living with the both of them.”
“My condolences.”
Just like that, the ice was broken. I shut my mouth, watching James charm my parents just as he’d charmed me—and ignoring all three of them when they scolded me for drowning my chicken and waffles in syrup.
He’d been right: parents loved him, mine in particular.
Even my dad, who talked about as much as Angel did, discovered that he and James shared a love for a British sketch show that, frankly, sounded like a fever dream.
“I’ve never seen you watch that,” I commented.
James stroked my thigh under the table. “That’s because I watch it when you’re asleep so you don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m surprised I don’t get nightmares.” I peeked at James’s phone, where he and Dad were watching a clip from the show. “Is that seaweed—okay, even I didn’t need to see that!”
The two clearly found my trauma hilarious, but I was happy to see James relaxing. I found myself leaning on his shoulder. I was content; comfortable. For a while, I forgot about the paranormal storm awaiting us once we got back to Salem.
Vegas continued to be my safe place, and having all of my closest friends and family there made it that much more special.
But my chest twisted at the reminder of the one person who wasn’t there, and James seemed to feel it. He squeezed my leg, a silent gesture of, “I know.”
I hadn’t heard from Shiloh at all, and James said he hadn’t either, outside of work updates that they kept entirely professional.
I came back to the conversation to hear my mom at the beginning of the dreaded tale of my thirtieth birthday. “He’s already heard that one, Mom!”
“He’s never heard it from my point of view.”
“Hold on,” James interrupted, directing his next question to my parents. “Weren’t you two already living in Daytona at the time?”
“We were,” Dad said.
James turned his attention to me, biting his lip in a way that said, “I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Fine,” I relented with a grumble, staring at my almost empty glass of water. “But if you’re going to make me sit through it, I’ll need alcohol.” I finished my statement by nudging James in the leg, telling him without words to let me out of the booth.
“I’ll come with you,” Dad said. “Your mother tells this story so much better.”
“If by ‘so much better,’ you mean dramatically and exaggerated, then you’re right.”
Mom didn’t hear me, but James did, and he snickered into his drink.
I approached the bar and ordered our drinks but when I reached for my wallet, Dad grabbed my hand to stop me. “It’s your wedding weekend,” he said, handing over his card. “Let your old man buy you a drink.”
“Thanks.” I smiled, wondering if I’d ever see my dad as “old.”
Sure, my parents were nearing sixty, but I never really saw them as aging.
If I looked closer, I could see the signs, especially in him.
I’d never let Mom figure out that I knew she dyed her hair, but Dad never bothered.
There was more gray in his dark hair than the last time I saw them, and a few more creases around his eyes—the ones I’d gotten from him—but his smile lines had gotten a little deeper too.
I jolted when Dad grabbed the back of my neck, snapping me out of my thoughts. “What’s on your mind, kid?”
I laughed and accepted our glasses of whiskey, hanging out at the bar—if for no other reason than to avoid hearing that mortifying story again. “No one’s called me that in a while.”
“You’ll always be a kid to me, even if you have one of your own now.”
I smiled fondly. “I can’t wait for you to meet Hannah. She’s an incredible person.”
“I’m sure you’re doing an excellent job with her.”
I shook my head. “That credit goes to her parents. They did all the hard work, and I get to reap the benefits.”
“Ryder, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you are one of her parents. It just so happens that she has three instead of two.” Dad gestured to where James was biting his knuckle in an attempt not to laugh too loudly at whatever Mom was saying.
“Four soon. She’s a very lucky young woman.
A child’s age doesn’t matter. She might be an adult now, and grow into an amazing woman, but you will always be her father, even if she’s got several now. ”
“I wish I felt like it more sometimes,” I admitted, unaware that I felt that way until the words tumbled out of my mouth.
“Why don’t you talk to her about it? I’m sure you play a bigger part in her life than you think you do. Lord knows I sometimes wished for another me when I was chasing you around as a kid.”
I bumped him with my shoulder. “Maybe you’re right, Dad.”
“I usually am—but don’t tell your mother.”
Steeling myself, Dad and I returned to the table to hear the end of that god-forsaken story.