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Жанр не определен
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Прочее
Драматургия
Фольклор
Военное дело
The Wager - Dyken Rachel Van - Страница 55
She wasn’t just his other half, or his soul mate; those words, in his mind, seemed like the type of thing guys told girls when they were trying to be romantic or were trying to get laid.
No, maybe he really was losing it, but as he touched her, tasted her, felt her—he realized it wasn’t just someone completing him, it was the added compliment of having her near. He hadn’t known what he was missing until he’d experienced Char as a whole person, and now that he knew, he realized one thing: he’d die before letting her go. She was a partner in crime, a best friend, a lover, a fighter, and she was all his.
Chapter Fifty-seven
Well, showering would never be the same. In fact, Char was convinced that in the near future every time she heard water running she was going to have a hell of a time keeping a smile from her face. Those lips, those hands, blessed Lord those hands—really, Jake should give lessons on how to use what God had given him. Damn, how he used what he had.
Buzzing; her body was actually still vibrating from the sensation of his hands on her hips, her butt, and then how it felt when he slid her wet body over his in the shower. Feeling flushed, she began to fan herself as she made her way over to the cocktails. Her makeup was going to melt if she kept at it.
As it was she wanted to look her best for the stupid fertility dance Grandma had planned, not to mention that she was going to be dancing with Jake and she wanted to look good for him.
Just as she rounded the corner to the cocktails Grandma intercepted her and led her down to her bedroom.
“What are you doing?” Char asked as Grandma’s hand gave another little tug until they were in her bedroom. Without a word, Grandma closed the door and quickly turned.
“You look like hell.”
“Uh, thank you?” Char said, looking down at the ugly bridesmaid’s dress Kacey had picked out. Apparently, Kacey hadn’t picked them out at all, but Bets, wanting a part in helping Kacey plan, had designed them herself. Thus, the autumn puke she was now wearing that also made her look fifty pounds heavier than she was.
Grandma let out a heavy sigh and rested her hand on her cheek as she eyed Char’s outfit. “This will not do. After all, you were never given the chance to wear a wedding gown.”
“I wonder whose fault that is.” Char’s eyebrows lifted.
Grandma shrugged and waved her off. It was obvious she was still playing the innocent card. “At any rate, a woman is always prepared.” She walked over to her closet and pulled open the doors. After mumbling to herself and rummaging through what could only be described as an unhealthy amount of leopard jumpsuits, she lifted a garment bag from the line up. “This is for you.”
At Char’s hesitation, Grandma tsked and laid the garment bag down on the bed. The sound of the zipper being pulled down was almost unnerving.
“Go ahead.” Grandma stepped back. “Look inside.”
Almost afraid to look, Char licked her lips and then reached inside the garment bag and pulled out the dress.
The dress.
The one from the store.
“But it’s not my wedding!” Char sputtered.
“Details.” Grandma waved. “Kacey was more than thrilled to have her best friend in something that resembled a dress rather than a pregnant pumpkin. Now, let’s get this thing on so we can put my grandson into cardiac arrest.”
“But—”
“You don’t like it?” Grandma touched the dress in Char’s hands and sighed. “I thought that day at the store—”
“No.” Char felt tears burning at the backs of her eyes. “It’s not that. It’s just that I feel like I’m living a fairy tale.” She also felt like she didn’t deserve it, any of it.
“Dear Lord, we’re in trouble if Jake is Prince Charming,” Grandma grumbled. “He still has his work cut out for him, starting with that dance you two need to perform, and giving me grandchildren. You are going to give me great-grandchildren, aren’t you?”
Char felt her cheeks heat as she looked away and rocked back on her heels. “Already working on it.”
“That’s my girl.” Grandma patted her hand and then tightened her grip on Char’s wrists. “And don’t you even think about using a condom. I used a needle on every single last one in this house. I expect a baby by spring.”
Mouth agape, Char stared and then felt her cheeks heat. “We’ll, uh, see what we can do.” Only Grandma would think ahead to plan such a thing.
“Good girl.” Grandma stepped back. “I’ve been praying for your womb to be fertile, you know.” She smiled to herself. “Now take off your clothes.” So many wrong words in that sentence that Char fidgeted a bit before turning around so Grandma could unzip the travesty that was her dress.
Once it was off, it dropped to the floor. Char stepped out of it and squinted. The dress was white, her lingerie was black.
“Oh, almost forgot.” Grandma held up her hand and went to a Nordstrom bag on the floor, pulling out a white corset, matching thong, and thigh highs. Good Lord, how did she even know Char’s size?
“Asked Jake.” Grandma offered. “He seemed to know the exact size of your hips, imagine that? And your breasts—well, let’s just say I had to blow my whistle several times before he was able to focus again. That boy is truly distracted too easily. It’s my fault. His grandfather was always a breast man.” Grandma thrust her chest forward a bit. “At any rate, go ahead and put this on and I’ll help you with your dress.”
Char paused. Did Grandma really want her to get naked?
“If you go any slower I may be dead before I see my grandchildren. Believe me, you don’t possess anything I’ve never seen before. Well, maybe I haven’t seen it in a while; my mirror points south a bit these days.”
Laughing, Char took the lingerie from Grandma and put it on the bed, then stripped down to what God gave her.
Grandma sighed.
“What?” Char paused as she grabbed the corset.
“Nothing.” Grandma waved. “It’s just that, I don’t believe Jake will make it through the ceremony. Don’t you dare allow him to ravish you early, Char! You hear me? God frowns on those things.”
“Uh.” Char put on the corset. “What? Married people ravishing each other?”
“ ’Course not.” Grandma gave her a scolding look. “God just don’t like to see pretty things go to waste is all, and you my dear, will be spectacular. So, let him take his fill, before you give him his drink, you understand?”
Char’s grin was huge. “Completely.”
Grandma grunted.
Ten minutes later, Char was dressed in the most beautiful silk gown she’d ever seen in her entire life. Grandma hadn’t stopped at the lingerie. Nope, she’d also bought Char tall crystal heels that made Char look like a supermodel. Bless Grandma’s manipulative little heart.
Char turned and examined herself in the mirror.
Grandma stood behind her beaming. “Give him hell.”
Chapter Fifty-eight
Jake took a long sip of his whiskey on the rocks and winced as the liquid poured down his throat. The heat was intense; it didn’t help that he was wearing a black suit, with suspenders. At least his suit wasn’t as bad as Char’s dress. The poor thing had looked miserable when she went off to get dressed with Kacey and the rest of the girls.
He took another slow swallow and grimaced when Jace made his way toward him.
“So.” Jace ordered a tequila shot and downed it with a wince. “How are things?”
“Ah, small talk.” Jake laughed. “Great. How’s your eye?”
“It feels like hell, thanks.” Jace shook his head.
Jake looked beyond him for Char. Where was she? They were supposed to meet a half hour ago. He grabbed Travis’s arm as he walked by. “Have you seen my wife?”
“Nope.” Travis shrugged and then laughed. “Wife, Shit, I never thought I’d see the day.”
Petunia walked by just as Travis cursed, earning him a smack in the back of the head and a scolding. He put his arm around Petunia, apologized, and ordered two shots of whiskey behind her back. Ah, it seemed all the apples from Grandma’s tree were firmly planted side by side.
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