Chapter Seventeen
Grant
“That… was… amazing,” Kiyah complimented with a satisfied smile.
“Does this mean that I’m forgiven?” I hissed when she swiveled her hips, drawing out the last of my cum. I cupped her exposed breasts and brought them to my mouth. My tongue darted out, licking and swirling around her pierced nipples.
“Yes,” she moaned. “I mean… no to the forgiveness, yes to the nipple play.”
“What if I told you I took my piercing out before I had sex with her?”
She froze. “You did what?” she asked. Her face stilled and grew serious.
“I never wore my piercing with anyone else. I meant it when I said it was for your pleasure only.”
She offered me a small, shy smile—one that told me even in the dark that her cheeks blushed furiously.
“Okay, I might forgive you a little,” she said, sliding off my lap.
We cleaned up, sat in silence in the backseat of my truck, and enjoyed a postcoital cigarette.
“Good call bringing the truck instead of riding in the limo.”
“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Are you coming home with me tonight?”
“No, I’m staying at Mom and Dad’s since the party bus is supposed to pick us up bright and early in the morning. Do you have any idea what Casey has planned for us?”
“Not at all,” I replied. “I asked several times, but he’s been secretive about it. Knowing him, strippers will be involved.”
“Probably. Since we’re on the subject of strippers, you can look but don’t touch.”
I looked over at her and grinned slyly. “Isn’t that the norm?”
“What I mean is that I better not catch you enjoying yourself. You better wear that same condescending frown you usually wear.”
I picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m not condescending.”
“Miss me with that bullshit.”
“Well, if I can’t enjoy myself, then you can’t either.”
“It’s different—I’m a woman.”
I scoffed. “We’re attending a lesbian wedding on Saturday. Let that sink in.”
“I can’t wait to have ass and titties in my face,” Kiyah taunted, opening the door.
“Me too!” I shouted after her. She shot me the middle finger and slammed the door shut. I smirked.
She fucking loves me.
* * *
I entered the hall and made a beeline for the bar.
I shouldn’t be drinking because I knew I’d be drinking throughout the day tomorrow, but I had a feeling that Kiyah was sticking around this time around.
I’d be happier, content, and less stressed, and as a result, I wouldn’t require the comforts of spirits any longer.
I stumbled to a stop when I noticed Dad at the bar drinking alone.
I need to stop being a pussy. I’ve avoided him long enough.
I sidled beside him and was immediately acknowledged by the bartender. “Long Island, please.”
I dropped a $20.00 in the tip jar and sat. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hello, son,” he replied softly.
“I’m sorry I never responded to your texts. I’ve been… busy.”
“Busy… right,” he said with a derisive snort.
“Dad, I—”
“You should never be too busy to tell someone you love them. Have I ever been too busy for you?”
“No, Dad,” I replied, feeling properly reprimanded.
When the bartender returned with my drink, I nodded, and because of my unease, the contents were gone in a few seconds.
Mistakenly, I glanced at my father and found his brow tilted, observing me with uncertainty.
I expected him to comment—give me some sage advice about taking it easy—but he didn’t.
He returned his gaze to his watered-down beverage and spun the glass clockwise.
“Do you want to know why my second marriage is so successful?”
“Because Mom hasn’t cheated on you with your competition?”
His mouth curved into a delicate smile. “Burgess was never my competition. I ended his career when I represented your mother, but I digress. Our marriage is successful because I learned the hard way that family always comes first, and I met a partner who believed the same. Make the time for the people who love you, Grant, because it will be those who love you who’ll be there for you in your darkest times. ”
I nodded. “I’m sorry for behaving like an ass at the restaurant.
I was intentionally trying to hurt you, and unfortunately, I succeeded.
I meant it when I said I was over Eliza, and I’d be a liar if I said I wouldn’t have considered the same route for the woman I loved.
I didn’t mean to shut you out. My guilt and cowardliness kept me from reaching back out to you. ”
He smiled without malice, almost apologetically. “I forgive you, Grant. I hope you can forgive me for questioning your… hm… I don’t know how to say it. Forgive me for questioning your devotion to Kiyah. Speaking of… have you seen her?”
“Not recently. Not since the rehearsal.”
He stared at me with his face devoid of emotion. I froze, feeling like he could see right through me and my lie.
“I see,” he responded, leaving his stool.
He drained the glass and buttoned his suit jacket.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when he stepped close and gripped my shoulder.
He leaned in to whisper into my ear. “Next time you want to go down on your stepsister in the parking lot, you should dust your knees off afterward. Your suit is too expensive to have dirty knees.”
Kiyah
I entered the hall, nodded, and smiled at guests until I reached the seafood buffet.
I grabbed a plate and began loading it down.
I’d worked up an appetite from that backseat banger and needed to refuel.
I had just snagged the last two lobster tails when an arm linked through mine, and I was dragged away.
“Nori, what are you doing?”
“I want you to meet someone,” she explained. I could hear the veiled excitement in her tone and knew she was up to some matchmaking bullshit.
“I don’t want to meet whoever you’re trying to set me up with,” I said stoically.
“Who said anything about setting you up? You can’t make friends?”
“I’m not interested in making friends with the opposite sex.”
Nori arched a perfect brow, and her pink, glossed lips slid into a crooked grin. “Is this your way of telling me you want to dabble in the ladies?”
“Hell no,” I responded, earning a scorched glare from my sister-in-law.
“Respectfully, I need the real thing. So, you will not be convincing me to join the Coochie Crusade.”
Nori’s lips flattened into a thin line, and her cheeks flushed brightly, contrasting with her long, raven hair.
“I despise you, Kiyah.”
I laughed. “Is it because you didn’t think of it yourself?”
“That’s exactly why!” she proclaimed. “Coochie Crusade? How come I’ve never thought of that? Permission to steal it?”
“Permission granted, soldier.”
Nori paused before we reached a group of men huddled together who clutched whiskey glasses and were probably comparing their golf handicaps.
“I want to thank you for being here,” Nori said softly.
“You got your shit. I get that, but it means the world to Daisy and me that you’re here.
You’re our big sister, and we love you. We always want you around, but we’ll begrudgingly settle for whatever you give us.
” I blinked back tears as Nori’s voice began to wobble with emotion.
“I know that Daisy and I give everyone so much fucking grief, but we’ve been that way since we were in pull-ups—we know nothing else. ”
“You both need therapy,” I said, chuckling as I sniffed back snot. Nori closed the gap between us. “I’m not going to pay someone to tell me that my wife is a sociopath—there’s no fixing her.”
“You severely lack accountability and self-awareness.”
“Remind me again who stole a hearing-impaired individual’s hearing aids.”
“Remind me again who socked my sister in the eye for telling her not to get kitchen braids for their honeymoon.”
“That’s neither here nor there. Let’s get back on topic.”
Sure. Let’s not talk about your domestic abuse. I’m all ears.
“As I was saying, I know our relationship from the outside looking in can be seen as… dysfunctional.”
I was thinking diabolical, but go off, sis.
“But when I lay my head down at night, wrap my arms around my flower, and breathe her in? I can’t think of any other place I would rather be. She’s my world. She’s always been ever since she shoved me into that ball pit at the jump place when we first met.”
How touching.
“And maybe… this is a strong maybe… maybe we should seek therapy because I don’t want twenty-five years to go down the drain, and I damn sure don’t want to see Daisy with anyone else. She makes everything better. She makes a can of Sprite taste like it came from McDonald’s.”
This woman is high. She has to be.
“I’ll do better, Kiyah… I promise,” Nori declared, giving me her puppy dog eyes of watery steel. I placed my free hand on her shoulder and dug my thumb into a nerve. “Fuck, Kiyah! What the hell are you doing?” she squealed, squirming under the pressure.
“Shut the hell up,” I hissed. “You’re causing a scene.”
“It hurts. Let me go,” she whined.
“I will in a second… relax,” I said, relieving some of the pressure.
She finally stilled and stopped making a spectacle of herself.
“I enjoyed your little impassioned speech, but it’s not enough to say the words; you need to show it.
If I hear that you put your hands on my sister again, and it’s not because you’re wrapped in a loving embrace, then I’m kicking your ass.
Do you understand me?” I said, digging my thumb in again.
“I got it. I got it. Let me go,” Nori pleaded. I released her, and she immediately massaged her shoulder. “Jesus, Kiyah. How am I supposed to do keg stands tomorrow with a screwed-up shoulder?”
“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”
Nori glared at me and rolled her shoulder. “Come on. Let me introduce you to your wedding date and future husband.”
My nose crinkled in immediate revulsion, and my head swiveled from side to side like a prairie dog as I looked for my husband, who seemed to have pulled a disappearing act.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, penetrating the circle. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my sister-in-law, Kiyah. She rides motorcycles, too,” Nori said, introducing me with a wide smile. I did a quick assessment. He was the typical finance bro—clean-cut, with a sharp suit and a slick smile.
I prefer my men frowning.
“It’s lovely to meet a fellow daredevil. I’m Maverick. It’s nice to meet you, Kiyah,” he said, offering his hand.
“Sorry, I have my hands full,” I replied, showing him my plate.
Nori cleared her throat. “Kiyah, Maverick is new to Powell Investments. We acquired him from Blackstone Investments.”
Is that supposed to impress me? The man’s name is Maverick. Okay, Top Gun.
“That’s… something,” I replied, mumbling around a shrimp. Grandma would verbally tan my hide if she witnessed me behaving so unladylike.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked.
“She’s a housewife,” Grant said from behind me. My mouth gaped along with Nori’s, and I was dragged away for the second time in twenty minutes.
“Grant, slow down,” I voiced, stumbling behind him as he led me out of the hall by my arm.
We were outside again, but this time we weren’t by ourselves.
Dad smoked his cigarette down to the filter before dropping it on the ground and snuffing it out with his shoe.
I glanced furtively at Grant, and he mouthed, “He knows.”
Well…damn.
“Thank you for joining us, Mrs. Baker,” Dad said facetiously.
“I’m glad to be here,” I responded in kind.
“Let’s cut the bullshit. I’m hurt that you both hid this, and I can’t imagine how your mother will feel when she finds out.
And maybe our feelings don’t fucking matter in all of this, but it hurts to know that the children you raised do not trust you and shut you out of one of the biggest milestones of their lives.
As parents, we raise you with the understanding that one day, you’ll leave the house, pursue careers, and be lucky enough to meet someone you want to spend the rest of your life with.
As a parent, you want to see your children be loved and celebrate that with them.
It’s a silent validation that you did your job. ”
He fell silent, and the seafood in my stomach churned and threatened to come back up.
“Dad… I’m sorry,” Grant apologized. Dad nodded.
“I know you are, son. I want you in my office bright and early on Sunday with Kiyah. Make sure you bring your checkbook.”
Grant’s brows drew in. “Why do I need to bring my checkbook?”
“Because as soon as you said ‘I do,’ you became responsible for Kiyah in every way possible. You will be reimbursing me for all the years I financially supported Kiyah while she bullshitted around. I’m not doing this out of spite—this is me holding you accountable because another man shouldn’t be taking care of your wife. ”
“Yes, sir,” Grant replied numbly.
“Kiyah,” Dad said, finally addressing me. “I want pictures.”
“Pictures?”
“I want pictures from your wedding day. I want to go through them, pick my favorite, and put it in a picture frame for my desk. Can you manage that?”
By that point, we were all crying. Grant tried to subtly wipe away a tear, but I caught him. I didn’t even try to hide it.
“I can,” I whispered.
“Good. Now, let’s bring it in because I love you both, and there’s nothing you could do that would make me ashamed of you.”
I dropped my plate onto the ground and fell into his open arms. Grant joined us shortly and laced his fingers in mine as we hugged.
I have to enjoy this moment while I can because I’ll be officially divorced once Grant finds out how much Dad has spent on me over the years.