CHAPTER THIRTEEN #2
My sass is cut off by a frantic knock, which makes my mother scream like a banshee and Eden plaster herself behind the coats before the door opens and Violet shoves her way in.
“Why are you so jumpy, and how are we already in the closet? Did my soon-to-be in-laws do something?” Violet’s big eyes brighten when she spots me.
She pulls me tight against her. “I didn’t know you were here, Tessa.
Oh”—she straightens and claps her hands enthusiastically—“are we gossiping about Hunter?”
With a valiant effort to both refute that and steer us in the only direction this day should go, I wave that off. “We’re talking about how thrilled we are that you’re so happy.”
The three of them resemble each other so closely. Blonde hair, green eyes, angular noses, and tiny frames. All donning pastels. It’s like nature was announcing that I’d be the odd one out.
“Some part of you must be interested in rekindling things. I noticed you removed your tongue ring,” my mother goes on, steamrolling my redirection in favor of her relentless mission.
It’s on the tip of my pierce-less tongue to shatter her rose-colored glasses by informing them all that the removal was because the barbell had gotten stuck on a cock ring. That would put an end to this.
“Ooh, the plot thickens.” Violet bounces in excitement. “So, we are talking about Hunter.”
“Mmhmm,” Eden murmurs around a mouthful of something before presenting a party-size bag of peanut M&M’s to the rest of us.
“Where did that come from?” I ask, snatching them up, even if I’d prefer Pixy Stix.
“We started hiding snacks in here a few years ago.” Violet digs in, helping herself to a handful.
“See?” My mother tears up, popping a piece of candy in her mouth, holding it inside her cheek, and covering her heart with both hands. “It’s so good to have all my girls home.”
“Even if one came with Mafia enforcers,” Eden tacks on because she can’t let me have one freaking sentimental minute.
Fucking hell.
“Enforcers?” Violet heaves, both distraught and aghast. “To my engagement brunch?”
“They aren’t enforcers. They’re security. It’s a long story, and I’m too sweaty to talk about it in here.” I practically pant that while gulping down my candy, slinking around them, and turning the knob. “I need air.”
As soon as the light shines in, Violet sings, “Great dress and ahh-mazing boots, Tessa.”
“Thank you.” I curtsy and stick my tongue out at Eden before shutting them all back inside and cruising through the party.
Plastering on a broader smile than feels natural, I help myself to a glass of tea and a few strawberries before I pass by some guests and act as though I’m headed somewhere important so I can avoid small talk.
People discussing the weather or any filler topic is a reoccurring item on my list. There are several apps dedicated to keeping us informed on the humidity level, so I can’t bear to squander breath on it.
Of course, maybe it would be a welcome respite from the nagging conversations my mom and sisters impart.
Nope. I opt for neither. And stumble upon an alternative.
“Good to see ya, Tessa.” John, Eden’s husband, extends the obligatory my-wife-has-a-strong-distaste-for-you-but-I’m-still-your-brother-in-law hug.
“You too,” I return with a semi-awkward pat on his back. “Are the kids around?”
“Playing outside, I think. It’s gonna be a hot one today, huh?” His topic of choice could be that he doesn’t know me at all or that he’s trying to kill me on Eden’s behalf.
“It’s a scorcher.” I widen my eyes so my astonishment at July’s heat wave in the South is noted before turning to Derek, Violet’s fiancé, and offering a welcome-to-this-fucked-up-family embrace. “Congratulations. I’m so excited for you both.”
“Thanks, Tessa. I know Vi will be thrilled that you’re here. Have you seen her yet?”
“I have. She’s glowing.” I pull back, and before I can even decide whether to point him in the right direction, John correctly discerns my bare-bones response.
“They’re in the closet? Already?”
I snicker. “It doesn’t take much. And now there are snacks in there. You might not see them until tomorrow.”
Derek’s forehead creases. “What could have them locked in there already?”
I raise my hand. “That would be me. It’s always a good time when the Lockhart sisters get together.”
John pins his lips, all too familiar with our family drama after eleven years of marriage, before he tows Derek away. “We’ll see you later.”
That was relatively painless, so I sigh in relief but still keep to my avoidance strategy. It doesn’t work for long.
“There’s my Tessy.” My dad’s booming tenor floats his nickname for me across the room. He pats one of Violet’s future in-laws on the back and strides toward me, immediately tugging me into his embrace. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, Dad.”
He releases me, and we chat about how I am and how work is going for each of us.
While he doesn’t approve of my employer, he doesn’t harp on it or refuse to acknowledge my choices.
We traipse toward the sunroom, which has a view of the large backyard, filled with gorgeous oak trees that provide a shady retreat from the muggy heat and the midday sun, though we can only see a sliver of the acreage from where we stand at the threshold.
There are a lot more guests gathered outside, so we don’t stray any farther.
“Do you like Derek’s family?” I ask in a low tone because a few of them are crowded around a table not far away.
I don’t know much about Derek or his relatives.
My father chuckles, the turquoise eyes matching mine crinkling. “They’re good people. Blending families is …” He trails off, nodding toward my grandmother outside, who is the polar opposite of my mother, before finishing his thought. “Challenging.”
My grandmother is sipping a mimosa and gabbing with her girlfriends, all of them relaxing in chairs on the lawn. They appear to be ogling the men who are partaking in various low-key competitive activities. They’re a lively bunch. Much to my mother’s chagrin.
As if on cue, they let out a whoop in unison that transcends the glass-walled room, and I can only imagine the lewd comments they’re slinging.
I laugh and turn back to my dad. “Life would be so dull without a mother-in-law who says inappropriate things during Christmas dinner.”
“We wouldn’t want that.” He smirks, but he means it. He adores her, even though she and my mom have a tumultuous relationship. “Life is too short to let it be dull. Can’t be afraid to live, Tessy.” His gaze coasts behind me. “You’re popular today. There’s another man vying for your attention.”
With a deep inhale, I twist to find Hunter lurking behind us. He’s dressed in a polo shirt and khakis, hands in his pockets, his brown eyes warm and hopeful.
My father kisses my cheek, instructs me to trust my instincts, and strolls away.
“Hey,” I manage, moving toward Hunter to give him one of those half-hearted welcoming hugs that seem inescapable with an ex.
“Hey,” he whispers into my hair before I step back, and he searches me for a long beat.
“I was so focused on seeing you today that it’s all I thought about, but I …
didn’t nail down what I wanted to say.” He peters off for a minute before finding a place to begin, visibly nervous. “You’re still working there?”
Despite the lack of heat between us, I cared about Hunter. And he loved me. The version of me I tried to be for him and everyone else. Starting with that question only proves he’s still hung up on a life I can’t offer, even if I wanted to.
“I am. Piercing and tattooing now.”
“And that’s what you want to do long-term?” he presses.
“Why? If it were just a hobby I was getting out of my system, would that make me more desirable?” That was snarkier than I intended, but like I said, I’m not great at small talk, so we’d best get to it.
“Tessa,” he chides as his hand shoots to his hair, dangerously close to ruffling his waxy strands. “That’s not what … you really want to kick things off like that?”
Everything is always my fault. I don’t wear the right clothes or have the right job or feel the right things.
As if to debunk that thought process, a guy who I assume is one of Derek’s relatives mutters something I can’t quite catch about people getting wet from Super Soakers and water balloons, to which a girl at the table replies, “That’s a lot of ink.”
Maybe Derek’s family is full of tattooed heathens. I bet my mother hates that.
My grandmother and her friends begin cheering with a round of applause, always bringing the hoopla to any event.
Hunter chuckles at the ruckus they’re making. “I guess I should have known what I was getting into with you, based on your wild genes.”
“Hey.” I elbow him, thankful he’s lightened up. “I’m tamer than my grandmother. She and her friends do have fun though.”
“They do, but … don’t you want more? I do.” He glances between them and me, pensive, like he’s trying to find his thoughts. “They’re happy with each other, but they’re all divorced.”
So, that’s where he was headed. Two and a half years ago, when I informed him I was going back to work at La Lune Noire, he told me I’d be giving up any chance of having a family.
At first, I thought he meant with him, which I understood and even respected.
He went on to explain that the Noires would own me and I’d never feel comfortable bringing a child into that type of life.
I didn’t have the luxury of making that choice, but he wasn’t completely wrong. His viewpoint still pissed me off.
Since then, I’ve watched Mercy’s son, Remy, be loved and doted on, flipping everything I’d fretted about upside down. Maybe it’s not ideal, but she’s making it work, like a lot of the employees do, and her son is thriving.
Aside from that, my grandmother and her friends have no Noire association, so what is the characteristic he deems as the root of their relationship demise? My grandfather left my grandma for someone my mother’s age.
Not everything is black and white.
I cross my arms, closing myself off. “Probably because they married the wrong men, Hunter, not because they were too much.”
That has us engaging in an ill-fated staring contest while the unfettered, mimosa-fueled hoots persevere from the backyard party.
An unfamiliar voice—likely from the table with Derek’s relatives—offers an odd explanation. “Must be because the shirt is off now.”
“Oh, yes, it is,” a girl chimes, and it just about kills me not to investigate what’s going on, but backing down isn’t really my thing.
When Hunter finally breaks our standoff, his words fade to the background as I peer over my shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of the chaos and eavesdropping on the commentary from my future brother-in-law’s guests.
“He doesn’t look like Violet’s family,” a red-haired guy muses. “He’s freaking tall, and he has all that black hair.”
Another guy takes a pull of a beer before pointing the bottleneck out to the uproar. “He’s obviously not related. That’s her grandmother screaming.”
“He looks familiar though.” A girl shrugs, like she can’t quite place whomever they’re focused on. “Hopefully, he’s not someone’s plus-one. I kinda like the man bun.”
And that is the comment that wallops me like a nuclear explosion.
Ink. Tall. Black hair. Man bun.
Oh God, no.
I dash outside, scanning the vast yard, terrified I’m about to discover what is sure to be the last thing I want to see at my parents’ house.
My grandmother pops up out of nowhere and envelops me in her arms. “There’s my angel of a granddaughter.”
“So good to see you, Grans,” I rush out, scouring what I can of the acreage. “What are you all hollering about out here?”
“Oh, just the delicious man tossing water balloons with the kiddos out by the grand live oak. I think he’s here for you.”
As the words fall from her lips, I spot him—shirtless, wet, and raking his hands through his fallen strands to tighten his bun.
Every inch of him is like art, intricate designs covering his well-defined, lean physique, which is glistening.
It’s borderline a porno. At the very least, sultry clickbait. In my parents’ sanctuary.
No, it’s worse. He’s playing with my nephew, Adam. Eden’s son.
The next fifteen seconds are a blur. I bolt past the guests immersed in games of cornhole and horseshoes and storm toward the half-naked fiasco. All while Hunter is hot on my heels.
Maddox’s eyes swing to me, glimmering with excitement, which twists something inside me, even in the midst of this disaster. He flicks his attention past me before trailing his gaze over my curves.
A crooked smile quirks his lips, and his arms go out. “Look at you, baby girl.”
“Baby girl?” Hunter scoffs from behind me. “What the hell is going on, Tessa?”
Hell if I know.