Love in Fantasy (Skeleton Key) (27 page)

“Don’t move like that, love, or you’re going to find yourself impaled on my cock for a morning fucking.”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head as though she thinks it will change what she is currently seeing and feeling. “Am I still dreaming?” she whispers.

He brushes some of her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I wondered too, but, either way, we’re together and.” He swallows the lump forming in his throat, wishing away the vulnerability. “We love each other, right?”

Abbi searches his eyes with deep intensity, looking for something. He doesn’t shutter his emotions, deciding to lay it all out for her. After a minute, a beautiful smile graces her face, lighting up his world. “You love me?”

“Desperately,” he breathes.

“I love you, too.”

Grasping her chin, he captures her lips for a deep kiss, both of them giving each other a part of their souls. Then he tears his mouth from hers and says firmly, “You’re going to marry me.”

“Are you asking?” She raises an eyebrow reprovingly.

There is not one second of hesitation before he answers, “No. It’s a fact. We’re getting married and we’re going to make lots of little Abbies.” He grins at her indignant look, and she isn’t able to keep it up, melting into a dreamy smile.

“Okay. You’ve got yourself a deal.”

And then there were none. Except me.

T
here are moments in your life you just can’t unsee, all you can do it pray to never experience them in the first place. Seeing my sister kissing a guy (Simon? Interesting)? Not really at that level. Seeing my sister virtually mauling the guy who is clearly sneaking out after having spent the night? I could have gone my whole life without seeing
that
. I sink into a chair at the kitchen table and plunk my elbows down with my hands over my eyes. I hear some whispering and some more heavy silence, a little more whispering, and hallelujah, the door clicks shut.

“Oh,” Abbi says in surprise. “Hey, Pippa.”

“Is it safe to uncover my eyes?”

Abbi snorts. “We weren’t that bad.”

I uncover my eyes warily and when I see Simon isn’t here, I put my hands down. “Abs, you were practically making babies right there in the doorway.”

Abbi laughs and strolls towards the back staircase. “No, that’s what we were doing in my bedroom last night and this morning.”

I slap my hands over my ears. “No, no, no. Just—
no,
” I groan. She rolls her eyes and bounces up the stairs. I sigh and stand up, then wander around the kitchen looking for something to eat. I’m too nervous to put anything in my stomach, so I give up and go back to my room. My time is up, it’s been eleven days since I laid down the gauntlet and, in this short span, all eleven of my sisters have gotten engaged. Abbi and Simon may not have announced yet, but let’s be real—even if they are already making babies—he better put a ring on it soon, or I’m going to kick his ass. Or, make Oliver do it for me since I’m less than half Simon’s size.

Anyway, back on topic. I agreed to marry Oliver after all of my sisters were either engaged or married. Oh, did I forget to mention, three of them eloped in the last two days? Pardon my oversight. It could be a coincidence, but it would be an awfully big one. I can’t help the niggling feeling Oliver has had something to do with it. I’m starting to wonder if Oliver is some kind of wizard/Cupid—let’s hope he’s wearing briefs instead of a diaper. Or better yet, commando. I even had the strangest dream about Oliver and a really cool looking skeleton key. In the dream, he slipped it to each of my sisters to help them and their loves find each other. Weird, right?

With everyone paired off, I’m the only one left. But, the truth is, I stopped denying my love for Oliver a few days ago. As well as the fact that I really do want to be his wife, to have his children, and to make a home with him. It’s not a fear of living up to my end of the bargain that has my stomach in knots. It’s the fear that he may have changed his mind.

Private Wilhelm is AWOL

My turn.
My eyes pop open and I sit up in bed, wide awake. Day twelve.
At last, it’s my turn.
I throw the covers off, get out of bed, and march over to Wilhelm’s box.
All right, buddy, I’m the last man standing.
Opening the lid—“What the fuck?!”

It’s empty. The damn fucking box is
empty
! I shake my head in disbelief. This isn’t happening.
Let’s try this again.
I slam the lid down and count to one hundred. Why? It seemed like the thing to do, now pipe down. With a deep inhale, I open it again and . . . it’s still unoccupied. Its previous tenant probably having a good laugh at my rapidly building panic. Pippa’s sisters have all found love, and while this means Pippa needs to live up to her end of the bargain, I was counting on her fantasy tonight to help her admit how much she really wants the life we are going to have together. I wanted her to enter our marriage willingly, happily. Go figure. Sense the sarcasm.

I almost toss the box at the wall. Almost. Part of me is hoping this is Wilhelm’s idea of a joke and will show up later. Seems like something the little bastard would do. I back away slowly, ready to catch him in the act, but after an indeterminable amount of time, I give up for now. I’ve a lot of shit to do today. I’ll worry about him later.

After I’m ready for the day, I set up the house for my evening plans with Pippa. It doesn’t take long and I find myself restless, so I check on the AWOL Wilhelm, and when I don’t find him, I decide to head into work. I had taken the day off but now, hopefully, it will get my mind off of things. I certainly don’t need to be sitting around thinking of all the creative ways I’m going to make love to my Pippa tomorrow night. Knowing I won’t be able to do anything if I can’t check on Wilhelm, I grab the box and take it with me.

Abbi is sitting at her desk when I arrive and she greets me with a beaming smile. It appears Simon and Abbi found their way to each other last night. So, where the fuck is Wilhelm? I put on a front for her and greet her as happily as possible, then storm into my office and slam the door shut, effectively ruining my efforts.

I manage to get a little work done, but it’s like pulling teeth. I can only imagine this is what Pippa feels like when she has writer’s block. At one point in the day, a very jolly Simon and a blushing Abbi, pop in to tell me they are engaged. They were worried about being able to work together in the office now that they are a couple. I don’t have a problem with it as long as they keep their sexcapades out of the office. Considering the day dreams I have about bending Pippa over this desk, I should probably feel like a hypocrite. Fuck that. I own the place.

The conversation only serves to remind me of Wilhelm, who I’ve officially labeled a deserter. I tamp down the urge to bang my head against my desk and decide it’s time to move my plans along. I made them; I don’t have to stick with my intended timetable. Wilhelm has blown them all to hell anyway.

I head home and up to my bedroom to change, setting the empty box back on the dresser before going into the closet. My tux is hanging, freshly pressed, ready to put on, but when I reach for it, it feels wrong. I have a night of romance planned, with a gourmet dinner, crystal, champagne, and looking irresistible in Armani.

A memory forms in my mind, a random moment when Pippa had offhandedly mentioned how hot she thinks I look in jeans and a t-shirt. She rarely wears anything fancier than a summery type of skirt and pretty top, unless they are going to a function that calls for it. It’s one of the things I love about her—she’s laid back, doesn’t put on airs, and is sassy as hell. It hits me; I’ve been going about this all wrong.

Pippa – 0, Oliver – I lost count. . .

I fidget on the black leather seat of the car Oliver sent to pick me up. I considered dressing up, wanting to be Oliver’s dream come true, but I would be pretending. If he doesn’t want me as I am, we’ll never work anyway. Besides, I don’t remember a time when Oliver hasn’t looked at me with hunger and desire. With this in mind, I put on a cheery, yellow, eyelet sundress, with spaghetti straps and a flared skirt. Even with this outfit, I still have my hair in a ponytail and I’m wearing flip-flops. It’s comfortable and I need the little dash of comfort with the way my stomach is fluttering.