Chapter 19
Damian
“Mom, Dad.” Brielle pulls me to a middle-aged couple standing in the front door waiting for her.
“Bri, baby, you’re home!” the woman shouts, wrapping her in a tight embrace.
“Hey, honey, how was the flight? Any trouble?” her father asks, giving her a quick hug next.
Brielle looks back, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her lips tipped up at the corners. “No, the flight was amazing, actually.”
“And who’s this?” her mother asks, her voice full of faux scandal. Her eyes rove over me. The spark of amusement in them is one I recognize from Brielle.
“Yeah, Bri, did you bring a date with you?” a voice behind us asks.
Brielle turns around, and the sound she makes nearly splits my eardrums. “Ev, it’s so good to see you.”
More hugs go around, one for her sister and then one to the man beside her. He gives her a quick shoulder hug, keeping his hand in the friendly zones.
“Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Damian,” she says.
“Your boyfriend?” her mother asks, completely surprised.
“When did that happen?” Evelyn asks.
Brielle glances at me. We can’t use the same timeframe as we did with the Vitales, otherwise they will really be wondering why she hasn’t said anything for the past seven months.
“Brielle and I have been seeing each other for a few weeks,” I say, speaking up for the first time.
“Damian, this is my mother, Diane, and my father, Jack,” Brielle says.
I reach out and shake both their hands. “Pleasure to meet you.”
Jack’s grip is tight and strong, his gaze assessing me as a suitable partner for his daughter. He seems to approve since he drops his hand with a smile.
If he only knew how unsuitable I really am.
Brielle introduces me, officially, to her sister Evelyn and Evelyn’s husband, Jeff.
“Nice to meet you,” Jeff says. Where he is completely amicable, Evelyn eyes me with suspicion.
Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, her gaze bouncing between Brielle and me.
The protective older sister vibe I’m getting from her makes me feel like I have something to prove, which is ridiculous.
What she or anyone else thinks of me is the least of my concerns, but it will matter to Brielle. And what Brielle thinks matters to me.
I slip my arm around her waist loosely. It’s easier and easier to do every time we’re together.
She relaxes into my grip, shifting her body toward mine like a leaf to the sun.
She peeks over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine, a sweet smile tugging at her lips, and my heart chooses that moment to go on the fritz.
“I thought you were coming alone, Bri,” Evelyn says quietly. Her tone is just shy of accusatory, and my grip on Brielle tightens.
She turns back to Evelyn, still in my arms.
“Plans changed. What’s the problem?”
“It’s not a problem. It’s just…” We wait for a loaded second for Evelyn to say her piece.
I know Brielle is close to her sister, and that’s the only thing keeping me from demanding she air her issue.
“Well, I know I told you that you could stay with me and Jeff while you’re here, but Aunt Tammy needed a room.
I figured you wouldn’t mind sharing since it was just you… but now…”
“Oh. Um,” Brielle starts, looking back over her shoulder to me.
“You can still stay there, obviously. I can see if maybe Gram and Gramps have space at their house for Aunt Tammy. With everyone coming in for the anniversary party, people will just need to double—or triple—up in rooms, that’s all.”
“We’ll get a hotel room,” I say. I don’t know who Aunt Tammy is, but I’m not going to kick her out of her room, and I’m certainly not going to join her.
Brielle’s eyes widen with apologies. “I’ll pay for it. I should have mentioned that I was bringing a plus-one. That’s completely my fault for not thinking about the sleeping arrangements. I didn’t think we’d need a room.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I lean in, my lips touching the shell of her ear. “I’d rather have the privacy anyway.”
Brielle whacks my abs with a quick backhand, her cheeks a little flushed, her lips pressed into a flat line like she’s trying not to grin.
“Let Aunt Tammy take the room. We’ll be fine,” she says to her sister, and then she turns back to her parents and asks, “Where’s Grams and Gramps?”
“Gram wasn’t feeling well. They decided to stay home tonight so that they’ll be well rested for tomorrow,” Diane answers as she leads us into the rest of the house.
The small gambrel-style home sits on a quiet street right outside of Denver.
And although neighbors abut the property no more than ten feet away on either side, inside feels spacious and homey.
Light gray couches sit on top of a plush white rug.
Cherry-stained end tables and entertainment center bring depth to the space, as well as the off-white walls.
Pictures hang on the wall. Jack and Diane’s wedding photo. Evelyn and Jeff’s wedding photo.
And a picture of Brielle at her college graduation.
While the family chats, I walk over to get a better look.
She looks so young. So innocent. Her dark hair flows around her shoulders under the black graduation cap. A bright red gown covers her from her shoulders to her knees, a beige sash around her neck. She looks so damn proud of herself as she smiles widely at the camera.
“Can’t believe it’s already been six years since she graduated.
Ten years since she moved away.” Jack stands beside me now.
He’s a big guy in a lot of ways. Not overly tall or broad, but rugged in a way that takes up space.
Other than the fact that he is nearly, but not fully, bald, the little hair he has left mostly gray, I probably wouldn’t have thought he was in his mid-fifties.
“Time does go by fast,” I say.
“Especially when your little girl is two thousand miles away, and you have no idea if she’s happy, if she’s being treated right by those she lets into her life.”
I turn to face him. “Brielle is smart. And opinionated. Bold. Courageous. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself and deciding whom she lets into her life,” I assure him.
His impulse to make sure his daughter is safe and happy is admirable.
I can’t even imagine how I would be as a father, not that that’s in my future plans anytime soon.
Or ever… Not that that’s in my plans ever, I remind myself.
“But I’ll tell you this,” I add, “I have no intention of hurting your daughter. She’s become extremely important to me, and I’ll do everything in my power to be the man she deserves.”
The words haven’t even left my mouth yet, and my stomach is already in knots. Not because I’m lying to Brielle’s father.
But because I’m not. Not about how important she is to me, anyway. The part about treating her right, well, that’s for someone else to do. And that thought makes me sick just thinking about Brielle with someone else.
“Good,” Jack says with a head nod. “Good.”
Brielle comes up to me, wrapping her arms around my waist like it’s something we do every day. I lean down and place a kiss to the top of her head.
It’s so fucking domestic, and I have no idea why I’m not internally squirming to get away from her, but I’m not. I pull her closer to me, chatting with her family like the world’s best boyfriend, the subtle floral scent of her shampoo floating around me.
Only one thought crosses my mind.
This weekend is going to be hell.
Brielle opens the bathroom door of our newly acquired hotel room, and I look up from my phone at the sound, my eyes eating her up from toe to head.
Her bare feet show off her red-painted nails.
Rounded calves lead up to her creamy thighs.
The pink dress she’s wearing flows loosely around her legs, hitting just above her knees but entirely respectable in length.
The material forms to her torso, hugging her waist. My gaze travels up further, getting pulled into the hypnotic shape of her tits.
The dress continues all the way to the delicate column of her throat, but the way it molds to her form takes it from dowdy to really fucking sexy.
Her lips are painted a cherry red, dark lashes frame her ocean blue eyes. But she didn’t cover up the freckles that dot across her nose. I catch her gaze, and she smiles a sultry, knowing smile as she watches me take her in.
“You done in there?” I ask.
Her face falls, and she swallows down a lump. “Yeah, it’s all yours.”
I get up, making my way to the bathroom. Making my way to her.
She sidesteps, moving out of my way, but I loop my arm around her waist and drag her to me. Her chest bumps into mine, a quick intake of breath on her sexy red lips.
“You look radiant, Brielle. Fucking edible. With the way my hands are going to be all over you, no one will doubt who you belong to.”
She tips her chin up, and without even thinking, I place my lips on hers.
My chest aches, physically hurts, when I pull myself away before I cross that line again.
I’m not sure my self-control has any slack left. It’s pulled so tight, and with every touch of her skin, every kiss of her lips, every sexy little noise she makes, another thread snaps.
I’m dangerously close to breaking, consequences be damned.
Music plays through the speakers of the rented hall, old crooners from the ’50s and ’60s.
Brielle’s extended family is larger than I expected.
Aunts, uncles, cousins, and kids are everywhere.
The last of the speeches finishes up. Everyone giving their congratulations, admiration, and well-wishes to the elderly couple.
Her grandparents sit at the front of the room in decorated chairs, streamers and balloons tied to the back slats.
They’ve been holding hands all night, even after sixty years together.
A woman joins me and Brielle where we are standing with Evelyn, Jeff, and some of her other family.
“Hey, everyone. Bri, I didn’t think you were coming for this. Evelyn said you couldn’t get the time off,” she says.