Naked (27 page)

He flashed me a look. “But I love you. I want to marry you. That’s what matters.”

His words lifted me a little. “Yes, that’s what matters. To me, anyway.”

He nodded as if we’d come to an agreement. “Good. Right. And fuck him, anyway, that old man. He’s a fucking twat. I fucking hate him.”

His voice broke. I touched his shoulder again, unsure what to do. Alex shook his head, blew out a breath, swiped at his face. He gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You kicked his ass, though, didn’t you?”

My laugh scratched my throat. “I’ve faced assholes before.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Honey,” I said solemnly, “don’t be sorry. If anything, I’m glad we went. I’m glad I met your sisters, and your mom, and your nieces and nephews. You can’t help who your dad is.”

“Now you know one reason why I never fucking come back here.”

“No kidding,” I teased, trying to lighten the tension. “With that, do you need any others?”

He didn’t answer, and I wondered if there were more reasons than his bigoted, homophobic father. Alex kissed me, though, soft and sweet, and I didn’t bother to ask him about anything else.

M
onday morning, Memorial Day, was bright and hot by the time I woke. I heard the rush of water in the bathroom again, but this time Alex emerged with a grin. I burrowed under the pillow. We’d stayed up very late doing all the sorts of things people do in hotel rooms, and some of those things twice.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” He jumped on the bed and drew back the sheets to expose my warm naked body to the chilly, air-conditioned air.

“Five more minutes.”

“C’mon, Olivia. We’re going to miss the party.”

I pulled the pillow away to look at him. He’d slicked his hair back, but it would fall over his eyes as soon as he dried it. He’d shaved. I smelled cologne. Water still sparkled on his eyelashes.

“You are way too cheerful for a dude who got only a few hours of sleep.”

He kissed me, though I kept my lips closed tight to imprison my morning breath. “You, on the other hand—”

I pinched his nipple and, laughing, he grabbed my wrist. “Watch what you say.”

“My love, you are an angel of the morning.”

I grumped a few more seconds, then sat up. “If you loved me, you would bring me Starbucks in bed.”

Alex raised a brow. “Is that so?”

“That is so.”

He leaned close, but didn’t kiss. I saw my reflection in his deep gray eyes. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I smiled. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. Service.”

Alex laughed again, already pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “Get your ass out of bed, Olivia.”

I groaned as he left the room, but hauled myself from the too-soft bed and padded into the bathroom. I took my time in the shower, luxuriating in the steady stream of unending hot water. I flossed and brushed and tweezed and shaved, for good measure. With a towel wrapped around me, my face a dark blur in the steam-covered mirror, I could admit to myself I was more nervous about meeting Alex’s friends than I’d been his family.

By the time I got out of the bathroom, he’d returned with two huge cups of coffee and a couple of scones. He’d also laid my clothes out for me on the bed—panties, bra, a sundress I’d packed but hadn’t expected to wear. Even my sandals had been set out.

“What’s this?” I took the coffee and sipped.

“I want you to wear that.”

I studied the outfit. “It’s a little dressy for a barbecue.”

“But you’ll look so fucking hot in it.”

The dress, pale blue with an embroidered design of red and gold flowers, had come from India. Light, filmy fabric, short but full sleeves, a hem that hit me just above the knee. I’d worn it only a few times, but I liked what the color did for my skin and eyes. I liked the sandals, too, flat, with crisscross straps. I’d intended to wear a pair of capris and a camp shirt.

“Are you sure?” I took off my towel and stood naked in front of the mirror. I cupped my breasts, then ran a hand over the curve of my belly. My ass. “It’s not a fancy party, is it?”

“I doubt it. But who cares? You’ll look beautiful.”

I looked at him in the mirror. “You want to show me off?”

“Of course.” His grin held not even a speck of apology. “Who wouldn’t?”

I turned to face him. “What are you wearing?”

“Why? You want to show me off?”

I laughed and moved to pull on the pair of pale blue panties and bra he’d set out for me. “Matching underwear. How very queer eye of you.”

I’d meant it lightly; if we were going to spend the rest of our lives together there was no point in pretending I didn’t know about his past. It sounded harder than I’d meant it to, and when I glanced up at him, Alex was frowning.

“You always pick out panties that match your clothes,” he said.

I put my arms around his neck. “I do. Thank you.”

Mollified, he let me kiss him. He let me do a little more than that, too, but I stopped before his cock did more than twitch in response to my stroking. I laughed when he groaned in protest, and went back to the bed to pull the dress over my
head. It fell around my thighs like a butterfly kiss. When I turned from side to side, the fabric flowed around me.

“Gorgeous.” Alex sounded more like he was admiring a painting or a vase than me, and I shot him a careful look he didn’t notice.

I’d gone to my last high-school reunion with a man I wasn’t dating on my arm. Pure eye candy. Sarah had hooked us up—he was a general contractor she knew from her renovation work. He had muscles on his muscles, abs you could wash clothes on, the chiseled features of a god. I invited him to the reunion for the simple reason that he’d look good on my arm in front of people whose opinions hadn’t even meant that much. I hadn’t ever been eye candy myself.

“How long’s it been since you’ve seen your friend?” I asked casually, moving to the bathroom to start putting on makeup.

“Couple of years.” Alex tugged off his T-shirt and rustled in the suitcase for a familiar pink button-down.

I watched him through the open bathroom door as I pulled out powder and mascara. Alex could take as long to get ready as I could. Longer, sometimes. I watched him run his fingers through his hair and shake it out. Pull on his shirt. Leave it untucked, button up the buttons, then undo a number of them. He pulled a belt from the suitcase and ran it through the loops on his jeans, tugged the buckle shut. Tucked the shirt.

I thought maybe Alex was more nervous about meeting his friends than he’d been about his family, too.

I smoothed scented oil into the fine stray hairs at my temples and pulled my locks back in a loose bun, with a few escaping. I glossed my lips and dusted my skin with glittery powder. I was finished and he was still fussing.

I went into the bedroom and took his shoulders to turn him from the mirror. I looked into his eyes. And I kissed him, not because I understood his anxiety, exactly, but because I didn’t have to know his reasons. I only had to know how to ease them.

He rested his forehead on mine, his eyes closed. We didn’t say anything. When he opened them, he looked better. His arms around me felt good and right and strong, as if nothing could ever go wrong between us.

“Let’s go,” he said.

The Kinneys lived in the smallest house on a long, lake-front road lined with large, expensive-looking homes. Their tiny yard backed right up to the water, though, which must be nice for the summer. I could see the amusement park across the lake, and a large metal spit took up a lot of space in the backyard. The smell of roasting meat hit me the second I got out of the car.

So did the music and laughter. Party noises. Summer sounds. I felt suddenly shamed I hadn’t brought anything, not even a platter of store-bought cookies we could’ve picked up from the grocery on the way over. Alex assured me it was all right, but that didn’t stop my hands from needing something to hold when he led me along the crushed stone path and into a bright, cheerful kitchen. I’d forgotten my camera, proof of how nervous I was.

“Jamie, you jumping muthfucka.”

I’d never heard Alex sound so fond. The man who must’ve been Jamie turned from the kitchen island, where he’d been setting a platter of hamburgers. My first thought was that he was handsome, far better looking than Alex in a pretty sort
of way—deep blue eyes, brows darker than his sunbleached hair, with the planes and angles of his face aligned just right. My second was that they might have been brothers, the way their very different faces managed to pull identical expressions.

And my third?

That Jamie, Alex’s friend, his good buddy since junior high, hadn’t been expecting me at all.

It wasn’t the color of my skin but my entire presence that set him back a step, his hearty grin freezing in a grimace so brief it passed before I should’ve seen it. He stepped forward at once as though he’d never recoiled. He held out his arms.

I was a voyeur watching their embrace, which lingered a little too long, but broke apart just a bit too abruptly. Jamie’s face had flushed when they pulled apart, slapping shoulders and punching biceps like adolescent boys. I couldn’t see Alex’s eyes.

“This is Olivia,” he said, reaching a hand to snag me, pull me close. “My fiancée.”

He didn’t stumble on the words, and with his hand in mine the world that had shifted a little beneath my feet grew solid again. Alex tugged me to his side, his arm sliding around my waist. “Olivia, this is Jamie. My best fucking friend.”

“Olivia,” Jamie said solemnly. “How the hell did this bastard ever trick you into saying yes?”

And then…it was all right, so far as I could tell. Whatever had passed between them remained there. Jamie pumped my hand thoroughly and slapped Alex’s back a few more times as they traded insults.

“Everyone’s here,” Jamie said. “Come on out in the back and say hi.”

“Everyone?” Alex asked.

Jamie laughed and clapped his shoulder once more. “Yeah, even my mom. Make sure to give her a hug.”

Alex glanced at me. “His mom loves the fuck out of me.”

“Fuck yeah, she does.”

I blinked a little at the f-bombs being dropped all over the place, but laughed. “What’s not to love?”

Jamie gave me another solemn look. “What’s not to love, indeed?”

Outside on the back deck, small groups of guests with plates of food in their hands greeted us. They all knew Alex. None of them seemed as surprised as Jamie had that I was there, or that he introduced me as his fiancée. I also got the impression most of these people might have known him long ago, but not that well.

“There’s Anne,” Jamie said from behind us as Alex led me down the short flight of steps to the yard. “She’s wading with Cam.”

Alex’s hand tightened in mine. “Let me introduce you to Jamie’s wife.”

Anne Kinney wasn’t paying attention to anything but her son as he kicked and splashed in the shallow water at the lake’s edge. She wore faded jeans that looked as if they might have been her husband’s, rolled up to the calf and belted tight around her waist with a bright scarf. Her red hair hung in a long wavy braid down her back, and her striped oxford shirt was wet from splashing.

“Go with Grammy,” she said as we walked up, and the little boy took off in the opposite direction, toward an older woman in a large sun hat who held out her arms to catch him.

“Anne.”

She turned slowly at the sound of Alex’s voice, as if she
had all the time in the world, and when she saw him, she smiled. “Hello, Alex.”

Unlike her husband, Anne didn’t seem to be surprised to meet me at all. She wiped her hands on the seat of her jeans and looked from me to Alex. She raised a brow.

“This is Olivia,” Alex said. “My…We’re getting married.”

“Congratulations,” Anne said.

She sounded as if she meant it. She did not step forward to hug him, the way Jamie had. Nor did she hold out a hand to shake. She didn’t touch Alex at all.

“Olivia,” she said warmly, “did my husband get you something to drink or eat? No? What a brat. C’mon, let’s find something before that pack of locusts he calls a family eats it all.”

And just like that, she took my elbow and led me off toward the house.

“Don’t worry about Alex. He’ll be with James,” she said with fond resignation. “Those two together are a force of nature. It’s best just to stand out of the way.”

In the kitchen she pulled cool bottles of cola from the fridge and handed me one. She unscrewed the top and drank back hers with a gulp. I took a little longer with mine, gave a dainty sip. I hadn’t said much.

“It was nice of Alex to bring you,” Anne said quietly.

Outside, the music played and the party went on. People laughed. I heard the rev of an engine and a baby’s cry. I looked out the bay windows overlooking the deck. I could see Alex and Jamie standing side by side at the railing, both holding beers. The wind blew Alex’s hair off his face. He was laughing. Had I ever seen him laugh like that? Stand like that?
Had I ever watched him lean toward another person the way I thought he’d only ever lean toward me?

“They’ve been…friends…a long time?” I said at last.

“Oh, yeah. Since junior high.” Anne crossed her arms over her belly, hands cupping her elbows. She looked out the window, too. “They are very, very good friends.”

Before I could say more—uncertain if I even wanted to—the back door opened and a younger woman tumbled through it with Anne’s son squirming in her arms. “Mama, this stinky little boy needs a change.”

“Thanks, Claire. My sister,” Anne said, as Claire heaved the boy over her shoulder and spanked his diapered bottom fondly. “Claire, have you met Olivia? Alex’s fiancée.”

“No fucking way,” Claire said.

“Fuggingway!” a small voice crowed from over her shoulder.

Anne sighed. “Claire.”

“Sorry.” Her sister grinned and turned the boy right side up on her hip. “Change this kid, gross. Olivia. Hello.”

She held out a hand and I shook it. She studied me up and down, checking out every inch. I wasn’t sure if I’d passed inspection until she let out a low whistle and shook her head.

“You’re
marrying
Alex?”

“That’s the plan,” I said as lightly as I could.

“Claire!” Anne sounded exasperated.

An impish face peeked at me from behind his hands. He had blond hair like his daddy, his mother’s fair skin. He had big gray eyes. I looked at him for a very long time.

“What?” Claire shrugged. “Sheesh. Any woman who agrees to marry that guy has to have a sense of humor, at least.”

I laughed, not feeling judged. “I try.”

“See?” Claire made a face at Anne and wiggled the boy on her hip until he giggled. “Look, I’ll take this Mr. Stinkybutt here and change him, okay? Am I forgiven my social fox pass?”

“Fox pass!” the little boy cried, laughing.

“Faux pas,” Anne murmured, and rolled her eyes. “Yes, please change Cam’s diaper. Thank you.”

“Nice meeting you, Olivia. Don’t let anyone here scare you off. We’re not a bad bunch.”

“I’m not scared,” I said.

Claire took Cam back down the hallway and I could hear their laughter even out here. Anne tore a paper towel from the rack and used it to wipe up some barely there crumbs from the counter. She tossed the towel in the trash and drank another gulp of her soda.