Their Wicked Wedding (5 page)

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Authors: Ember Casey

BOOK: Their Wicked Wedding
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CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

LILY

 

If Calder thinks I’m going to ignore the fact that he’s keeping something from me, then he’s an idiot.

And if he thinks he can keep staring me like he wants to tear my clothes off and I’ll just forget that he lied to me… well, he’s going to have to try a little harder than that. Secrets aside, I haven’t forgotten our game. It’s going to take more than one of his searing stares to break me.

Still, it’s hard to concentrate on my breakfast when his eyes are boring into me the way they are. Goose bumps prickle across my skin as I stare down at my cereal, determined to ignore him. And to think I actually felt sorry for him when he stumbled in here this morning! He looked exhausted. Maybe even hungover. For a minute there, I thought about apologizing for the way I left things last night. There are healthier ways to deal with disagreements.

But he seems fine enough now. He’s even started brushing his bare foot against mine beneath the table. He plays like it’s an accident, but I know better. And I don’t want him to think he’s getting to me, so I keep my foot where it is and pretend not to notice.

I shove another spoonful of cereal into my mouth. Calder and I are sitting adjacent to each other at two sides of the square table, and Lou and Ward are sitting across from us, enjoying their own breakfasts. I said a few words to them when I first sat down, but when Calder joined us about ten minutes later, we all fell quiet. I suspect the tension between me and Calder—angry or sexual or otherwise—is more than a little palpable. And Calder and Ward never seem to have much to say to each other. I think they prefer to glare at each other from across the room.

For a long while, we all eat in silence. I continue to focus my attention on my cereal—or at least
try
, since part of me seems to be aware of every little movement Calder makes. Every time he shifts in his seat. Every time he raises his spoon. Every time his toe brushes against mine. I was trying to punish him last night, but I ended up punishing myself, too. I knew it would be challenging to go a whole week without making love to Calder, but I underestimated how much I need his touch, need the pleasure that only he can bring me. I missed his arms around me last night. I missed his kiss first thing when I woke this morning. And my body won’t let me forget it.

A giggle across the table brings my head snapping up. Ward is whispering something in Lou’s ear, and she’s trying—and failing—to stifle her laughter. At first I think they’re amusing themselves at the expense of Calder and me, but after a moment, I realize I’m witnessing something else altogether. They’re speaking softly to each other, the way Calder and I might have spoken to each other if we’d spent the night blissfully in each other’s arms. They look at each other with complete infatuation, almost as if they’ve forgotten we’re here.

I don’t blame them. Why should they sit in silence just because Calder and I had a bad night?

Beneath the table, Calder’s foot moves “accidentally” against mine. My eyes dart up to his face, then quickly away again—but not before I get a good look at his expression. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Calder’s forgotten Lou and Ward are here as well. Why else would he continue to look at me like that? Like he’d love nothing more than to forget his cereal and bend me over the breakfast table? His sister’s here, for God’s sake! Shouldn’t he be freaking out about that? Or staring daggers at Ward for whispering in her ear or something?

If this is Calder’s way of apologizing for last night, I don’t know what to think. And for all I know, he isn’t atoning for anything—he’s getting his own twisted revenge.

He moves his foot again, and this time he doesn’t try to hide his intention. His foot slides over mine, gliding across my bare skin. He’s warm, far warmer than he should be. And I shouldn’t be so utterly aware of every small shift of each of his toes. He might have forgotten about his sister, but I haven’t.

I move my foot away from his, then cross my ankles and tuck both feet beneath my chair.

Calder doesn’t make a sound, but I don’t even have to look at him to know that he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. His amusement radiates off of him, just as the heat emanates from his skin.

My eyes fall to my bowl again. Another spoonful of shredded wheat disappears into my mouth.

Calder lifts his own spoon, and relief washes over me as I realize I’m getting a temporary reprieve. But as soon as the cereal reaches his mouth, his left hand drifts from the table down to my thigh.

I’m still wearing my pajamas—a tank top and a pair of sleep shorts. His hand settles on my bare knee, sending a wave of heat up my thigh. For a moment, his hand lingers there, his fingers curled just slightly, his thumb brushing ever-so-softly back and forth. But then he shifts his wrist just a little, moving his fingers toward my inner thigh.

I debate whether to jerk my leg away or to pretend I don’t notice or care that he’s threatening to feel me up beneath the table. He’d find either reaction amusing, the bastard.

He runs his hand up my leg until his fingers touch the bottom hem of my shorts. His pinky slips beneath the edge of the fabric, teasing me. The rest of his fingers press more firmly against my thigh, making me jump.

Stay strong, Lily,
I tell myself.
You’re tougher than he thinks.
I have no doubt now that Calder is trying to punish me. He wants to get me worked up and writhing beneath his touch, and then the minute I’m about to give in to the pleasure, he’ll snatch it away from me. He’s done it to me before in this very house. And I’m sure he sees it as fitting revenge for last night.

Calder notices my struggle, of course. And he makes no attempt to hide his pleasure. I can see his devilish smile out of the corner of my eye.

Stay strong
, I repeat to myself as I scoop up another spoonful of my breakfast. There’s not much left in my bowl but some sad shreds of wheat and a pool of milk, but it’s my only distraction right now, especially since Calder’s finger has moved beneath the hem of my shorts once more. His touch is light but deliberate, and it sends a shiver the rest of the way up my thigh, straight between my legs.

And then he withdraws his finger, and instead of gliding up my leg against my bare skin, his hand moves on top of the fabric of my shorts. I can feel the heat of him through the thin cotton. All it would take is one shift of his finger, one little motion, and he’d be touching me where my body desperately wants to be touched.

He doesn’t move for a long moment. He just leaves his hand on my upper thigh and takes a bite of cereal as if this is a perfectly normal thing to be doing beneath the table during breakfast. Asshole.

I, on the other hand, am trying desperately to calm my breathing. The last thing I want is for Lou and Ward to glance over here and realize what’s going on. My face is probably already ten different shades of pink.

This is not how this was supposed to play out.

There’s a steady throb growing between my legs, an insistent need that doesn’t want to listen to my brain. Calder must know it’s getting unbearable, because he finally shifts his hand again. His fingers move with practiced skill, pressing the fabric of my shorts against my body. I’m wet, and I know he can feel it through the cotton. He takes his index finger and slides it down the length of my folds and back up again. It’s all I can do not to cry out.

And then he finds my clit through the thin fabric and I can’t help myself. I suck in a loud breath. My eyes dart up and across the table, terrified that Lou and Ward have heard me, but thankfully they’re still absorbed in each other. I don’t know what Calder is thinking, but we’re far past the line of appropriateness and well into awkward territory now.

And that’s when I realize I have a way out of this—a way that puts
me
, not Calder, in control.

“Lou,” I say. “I’m supposed to pick up my dress today. Do you want to join me?”

Calder stiffens. I’ve succeeded in reminding him that we aren’t alone at this table. He and Lou might be growing closer every day, but no matter where a brother and sister are in their relationship, there are certain situations that aren’t okay. And fingering your fiancée while she talks to your sister? Definitely on that list.

His hand drops away from me immediately, and he suddenly seems extra interested in his cereal.

Lou, thank God, doesn’t seem to notice her brother’s behavior.

“Of course!” she says with a smile. “And you still have to see my bridesmaid dress.” Since Lou will be my only attendant—and because her current condition meant it would be a little more challenging to find a garment that fit—I let her pick her own dress for the occasion, asking only that it be green. Calder and I don’t really have any “official” colors for our wedding, but this wedding is about new life, and if the color green doesn’t symbolize that, I don’t know what does.

“I can’t wait to see it,” I tell her, then turn to Calder. “Your suit should be ready, too, right?”

He still looks a little uncomfortable, and I’m almost ashamed to admit I’m enjoying it. Almost.

“Actually, there were a few last minute alterations they needed to make,” he says. “Which actually works out. I have some work things I need to tend to today.”

“Wait, what?” I say. “Work?”

He doesn’t meet my eyes. “Unfortunately.”

“I thought you got everything sorted out yesterday.” Everything except whatever it is that he refuses to tell me.

“I finished everything that required me to be at the office. There are still a couple of issues I need to take care of.”

“Like what?” It’s not until the words are out of my mouth that I realize how I sound—suspicious and annoyed. Hell, I
am
suspicious and annoyed. But my gaze flies up to Lou and Ward—both looking slightly shocked by the sudden change in this conversation’s tone—and I realize this isn’t the place to deal with this.

“Sorry,” I say, sitting back in my chair. “I just hate that you’re having to deal with this this week.” Especially since he won’t tell me a damn thing.

“I know,” Calder says, finally looking at me. “Me, too. But I hope to have everything wrapped up by this afternoon.”

I try to find the truth in his eyes, but I can’t. I know he’s being purposefully vague, and it bothers me. But am I overreacting? I can understand that he might want to keep his stressful work life separate from his home life… but for the life of me, I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something else going on here. I don’t like it.

But Calder, for one, appears to be done with this conversation. He stands and carries his empty bowl into the kitchen.

“I need to get to work, too,” says Ward, standing. “The grounds crew is coming today, and they’ll need me this afternoon.”

“I can’t wait for you to see his surprise,” Lou tells me. “You’re going to love it.”

“I hope so,” Ward says, grinning as he heads toward the door. But that smile fades when Calder reenters the room and the two find themselves in each other’s way. There’s a moment when neither of them moves—just a moment, but long enough to be awkward—and then Ward steps aside. Calder doesn’t even come all the way back to the table. He gives me an empty smile and says, “Have a good day, Lily.” His eyes move to his sister. “And you, Louisa.” Ward’s still standing there when he turns, so he’s forced to acknowledge him as well. He does so with a nod, nothing more.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Men.

I don’t know what’s gotten into Calder these past few days, but I’m definitely going to have to do some investigating later.

Whatever Calder is hiding, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.

* * *

It only takes an hour to drive into Barberville and pick up my wedding dress. Somehow, finally having it in my possession makes the whole wedding thing seem suddenly and intensely
real
.

Five days.
In five short days, I’ll be Calder’s wife.

Assuming I haven’t killed him by then, of course. But there’s plenty of time to work things out. In the meantime, I can’t seem to stop staring at my dress as Lou and I carry it up the stairs to my room. The seamstress put it in one of those fancy garment bags with a sheer panel on the front, so I can admire it even though it’s safely wrapped.

It’s gorgeous. The whole thing is covered in lace from the bodice to the train. The sleeves fall off the shoulders, and the skirt flares wide in a way that makes me feel like a princess. It’s a classic, romantic dress, and I can’t wait to wear it at my wedding. I can’t wait to see Calder’s expression when he sees me in it.

But thinking of him again only reminds me of the strange way he’s been behaving these past two days. No matter how many times I try to push those worries away, I can’t fight the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something is going on with him, and I want to know what.

“Don’t worry,” Lou says as we carefully remove my dress from the bag and hang it in my closet. “He won’t miss dinner.”

Her comment snaps me out of my thoughts. “What?”

“My brother. I’m making his favorite tonight. He’ll have to stop working at some point.”

We’ve got the dress hanging, and we smooth it out, making sure there aren’t any creases in the fabric.

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