21. Blakely #2

Me: Hi, Astrid! It’s Blakely. I promise I’m not needy. But can you give me some advice on what to wear to Renn’s parents’ house for dinner? I’m trying not to freak out.

Her response is immediate.

Astrid: No panicking. It’s not allowed. They are very casual, in a rich people way, when they’re together. I’d suggest a maxi dress or maybe dark denim jeans with a nice white button-down—chic but not overdone. Honestly, they aren’t going to judge you for what you wear.

Me: A white button-down? It’s obvious you don’t know me at all.

Astrid: Would you like me to send you a few options this afternoon? Whatever you don’t want, we’ll send back.

Is she kidding?

Me: That’s unnecessary.

Astrid: This is my job, Blakely. And I’m under your husband's exact orders to ensure you are happy and comfortable. If he finds out you’re worried about what to wear, and I know it … I like my job. Let’s keep it at that.

Me: We could not tell him.

Astrid: I’m sure it’s an adjustment, but this is your life now. I’m here to help. I get paid to help you. And, if I’m being honest, shopping for you will be much more fun than what I’m currently doing.

I pace the kitchen, nibbling my bottom lip.

Me: I feel very awkward about this.

Astrid: I’ll have a few things delivered this afternoon. I’ll let Foxx know to expect them. Let me know how they work. We’ll stay on it until we get it right.

Me: How do I pay for them?

Astrid: You’re funny. I’m off to shop!

“Dammit,” I say, setting my phone down and blowing out an exasperated breath.

A door shuts in the distance. I watch the doorway, hoping it’s Renn. But Foxx appears.

“Mrs. Brewer, Ella St. James is here to see you,” he says.

I plant my hands on the counter, grateful he can’t see that I don’t have on pants.

“He’s under an NDA. He won’t tell anyone how you sound when you’re moaning my name and begging me to fuck you harder.”

My cheeks flush. “Can you call me Blakely, please?”

“If you’d like.”

I stare at him, dazzled by his blue eyes.

“Blakely?” he asks again.

“What? Oh. Yeah.” I stand. “She’s my best friend.”

“Should I send her in?”

“Yes, Foxx. Please.”

He gives me a side-eye that makes me think he’s irritated with me. I hate to tell him, but he fails if he’s trying to get me to change my behavior. He’s hot as hell when he’s grumpy.

A few moments later, Ella rounds the corner. “Jealousy is a very ugly shade on my skin tone. But, dammit, Blakely—your life is unfair.”

I laugh, pulling her into a hug. “I missed you.”

“You did not.” She swats my shoulder. “And if you did, then Renn isn’t nearly as good in bed as I’ve imagined.”

I gasp. “Don’t imagine my husband in bed.”

She giggles. “Sorry. What’s done is done.”

We move into the living room and plop down on the sofa.

“Tell me about your honeymoon. I hope the length of time was the only thing that was fast,” she says, winking at me.

I laugh. Oh, how I missed her.

“It was beautiful, Ella. The pictures I sent didn’t do it justice. The vibe of the place was so chill. Maybe it was just where we were, but the sun seemed brighter, the pace slower, and I just felt so …” I search for the right word, but only one will suffice. “Happy.”

“That makes me happy.”

“That’s why you’re the best.”

She smiles. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to really celebrate your birthday, though. I felt like you got shortchanged.”

I shove my hand in her face. “How can you say that with a straight face?”

“Holy crap.” She jerks my finger at a weird angle for better inspection. “Blakely. My lord.”

“I know. It’s perfect. I can’t say I would’ve picked it because I wouldn’t have even looked at rocks this size …”

Ella laughs, letting my hand go. “Us mortals can’t afford things like that. But I guess you aren’t one of us anymore.” She surveys the space. “This is quite the pad you have here. Renn’s taste is more sophisticated and less bachelor. I’m impressed.”

“Ella, you have no idea how impressive he really is.”

“Saturday night. Me and you. Not here. I want every dirty, nasty detail you’re willing to share.”

I grin. “Deal. Now, what’s up with you and Brock?”

The levity melts off her face. She smiles, but I see through it. What’s wrong?

“El?”

“We’re good. Honestly. Probably better than ever, really.”

My stomach knots. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“He came over, and we had a long talk … about a lot of things. And I think …” She gazes through the window. “I think we’re on the same page in a way we’ve never been before.”

I watch her work through something in her head.

“I love him, Blakely.”

My eyes widen. “Really?”

She turns to me. “I do. We’ll talk about it this weekend, okay? I don’t want to get into it right now.”

Don’t want to get into what? What a weird thing to say. Since when has Miss Shameless held anything back? She’s not telling me something. Hmm …

A voice clears behind us. “Blakely?”

I look over my shoulder. “Are you a genie or something, Foxx? You show up out of nowhere.”

“Doubtful,” Ella mutters, loud enough so only I can hear. “Otherwise, women would be rubbing all kinds of things, hoping he shows up.”

I shake my head, fighting a laugh.

“Your brother is here to see you,” Foxx says, clearly unamused.

“We’re going to have to work on this,” I say. “I don’t want to waste your time by announcing every visitor. You keep scaring the shit out of me.”

He lifts a brow. “I’ll wear bells on my shoes.”

I burst out laughing. The corner of his lip quirks, but he refuses to smile.

“Send him in, please,” I say. “Thank you.”

He nods, and I’m pretty sure he rolls his eyes once his back is to me.

Ella stands. “I need to get going. I have a massage in an hour, and traffic will be miserable. I just had to see you before you got caught up in life and put me on the back burner.”

I laugh. “Right. Like you ever stay on the back burner.”

She laughs. “Call me later, and we’ll plan our dirty dinner discussion.”

“Okay.”

She heads for the door but stops when Brock walks in. Her arms go to his neck, and they embrace. Whispers are exchanged, and my brother gives her a single, sweet kiss. He waits until she’s out of the room before he makes his way to me.

“Hey,” I say, getting to my feet to hug him. “Are you okay? You have bags bigger than mine under your eyes.”

He wraps me up into a giant bear hug. “I’m fine. Glad you’re back.”

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