Chapter Nine
She followed the sound of faint voices to a living room. After taking a bracing breath, she stepped through the archway. The Golfinis were all present, as well as Danny and Peyton. A few shady-looking guys in suits lurked in the corners, with one mountain of a man hovering behind Tiny Mike’s chair, and Topher assumed that they were part of the newly arrived “Golfini security force” that Jamie and Julia had mentioned. The Hulk-sized guard strongly resembled a bulldog. Topher looked away from him, feeling guilty for her mean thought.
“Coco, darling!” her mother called, hurrying across the room. “It’s so wonderful to see you!” When she reached Topher, Cecelia patted her cheek. Her mom had never been into hugs.
Topher smiled. “It’s good to see you, too. You’re looking beautiful.” She lowered her voice so that her mother was the only one who could hear her next words. “Have you lost weight?” It was her usual question, and it never failed to put her mom in a great mood.
“Oh! I have! Almost five pounds. You’re such a lovely child to notice!” Placing her fingertips on Topher’s shoulders, she eyed her up and down. “And you’re looking very...healthy.”
Topher had learned long ago to let her mother’s comments about her weight roll off of her. After a bout with pneumonia when she was eighteen had brought Topher’s five-foot, one-inch frame down to a scary eighty-seven pounds, Cecelia had told her she’d looked “amazing.” Mentally, she’d translated that to “looked amazingly like Skeletor” and promptly gained fifteen pounds, to her mom’s obvious disappointment.
“So what’s new? How’s the new cardio-barre instructor?” It had been months since she’d seen her parents, and it was good to see her mom. As bossy and critical and shallow as Cecelia Topher was sometimes—well, most of the time—she could also be sweet and funny, and Topher knew her mom loved her.
“Hans is wonderful. My calves have never been this toned.”
“I noticed.” It was a lie. Topher had never noticed the state of her mother’s calves. “You’re looking quite fit.”
Her mom beamed. “You need to come to New York for a long visit. We’ll shop and go to this wonderful new spa that’s just opened and we can both work with Hans. He’ll get you into such good shape that the casting directors will be beating down your door. Hans will strip away that last bit of baby fat you’re still holding on to.”
An irritated male rumble made Topher turn around to see Jamie behind her, his expression glacial as he glared at her mother.
“Did you just growl at my mom?” she whispered, but he was too busy scowling to reply. “Mom.” She took a step back so she was next to Jamie. His arm immediately looped behind her, his hand settling on her hip. The automatic embrace felt nice, and she smiled up at him. “This is James Hawkins.”
When she glanced back at her mother, Topher wished she’d continued ogling Jamie. Cecelia’s expression as she stared at his half-scarred face was a mix of disgust and horror. A wave of indignation on Jamie’s behalf flooded through her, and Topher was tempted to jump on him and have wild monkey sex right there in front of everyone, just to show her mom and the awful Barb and her sneering mother and the non-lip-touching Peyton that Jamie was gorgeous and perfect and incredible.
“Hawkins.” Ben’s voice broke Cecelia out of her trance, and he extended his hand toward Jamie. “Good to see you again.”
As the two men shook hands, Topher smiled at Ben, grateful that he’d broken that frozen, worse-than-awkward silence. “Hi, Ben.”
“Coco.” He gave her a nod of greeting.
“Darling.” Her mother’s voice was higher-pitched than normal. She reached out and locked her fingers around Topher’s wrist. “Let’s go to your room to get ready for dinner.”
“But...” After a brief resistance, Topher gave in and allowed her mom to pull her away from Jamie. Cecelia had eight inches on her and was freakishly strong from all her Pilates classes, and Topher knew that fighting her would cause a huge, embarrassing scene that would delight the Golfinis and Peyton to no end. “Fine.”
She did manage to go up on tiptoe and kiss Jamie on the chin. “See you at dinner.”
His gaze warmed slightly as he switched his attention from Cecelia to her. “Sure?”
Of course I’m not sure, but my mom is going to drag me out of here by my hair if I don’t, so going with her is the less humiliating and less painful option. Topher tried to pack the entire mental explanation into an eye roll. She must have been partially successful, because Jamie gave her a slight smile. Either that, or she just looked cute when she rolled her eyes.
His encircling arm slid away, but he caught her hand before she was out of reach and gave it a squeeze that made Topher yearn for wild monkey sex again. She had to satisfy herself with a huge smile and the mental reminder that they’d be alone in his suite that night. From what Jamie had said about the scarcity of empty bedrooms, Topher guessed that her parents would be in the green suite all the way across the huge house from her. The thought made her smile even wider.
A jerk on her arm threw her off balance, and Topher stumbled a little as they started up the stairs.
“Mom! I’m already coming with you. You don’t need to tear my arm off and beat me with it.”
Keeping her grip on Topher’s wrist, Cecelia sniffed. “Sometimes you can be so crude, Coco.”
“Crudeness is better than physical violence,” Topher muttered, keeping her voice low.
Her mom gave her a sharp backward glance. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” What was it about being around her mother that reduced her to a sullen teenager within five minutes? Trying to gather a smidgen of maturity, Topher took a deep breath and prayed for patience. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t actually know.” Despite the admission, her mom kept charging up the next flight of stairs. “We just need to find a place to talk.” She gave Topher another reprimanding look. “Privately.”
When Topher came to a halt, Cecelia jerked to a stop as well, thanks to her continuing death grip on her daughter’s arm.
“There’s nowhere up here that will work,” Topher said, inwardly shuddering at the thought of hanging out with her mother in Jamie’s suite, especially after what had happened in there that morning. “I bet Jamie would let us use his study.”
With a nod, her mom reversed her course, blowing past Topher so she could take the lead again. Topher shrugged and allowed it, even though she was the only one of the pair who actually knew how to get to the study. She figured she’d amuse herself by seeing how long her mother dragged her aimlessly around Jamie’s house.
To Topher’s disappointment, her mom stopped at the base of the stairs and raised her perfectly shaped eyebrows in a silent demand for directions.
“Left.”
Although she was dreading their “little talk,” Topher figured she might as well get it over with so they could get back in time for dinner. At the thought of getting to eat more of Leigh’s food, her mouth watered. When she’d mentioned finding a place for lunch after the first hour of the shopping expedition, everyone except Julia had stared at her like Topher had suggested they all smoke some crack. The cinnamon roll seemed so long ago.
“‘Stomach years’ should be a thing,” she mused, forgetting for a moment that her mother was the one listening. “You know, like ‘dog years,’ only shorter. That way, I could say, ‘It’s been fourteen stomach years since breakfast.’ It’s so much more specific than, ‘I’m hungry.’”
“What on earth are you rambling about?” Cecelia asked with a huff. “And it won’t hurt you to skip a few meals.”
Topher considered that for a few seconds. “Yes. Yes, it would hurt. I’d be starving for, like, forty-five stomach years if I did that. I’m only at fourteen stomach years since breakfast, and I’m about ready to gnaw on my own arm. The study is the second room on the right.”
With a frustrated sound, Cecelia shoved open the door. “I don’t understand how your brain works sometimes.”
Most of the time, Topher mentally corrected, but she kept her mouth shut for once as she closed the door behind her. She reminded herself that her mother had her best intentions in mind, but she had a skewed perspective of what exactly “best intentions” entailed.
“What are you doing?” Her mom launched straight into lecture-mode as soon as the latch clicked.
“Um...” It must be a trick question. “Standing in Jamie-Bear’s study with you.” The pet name slipped out before she could catch herself, and she mentally winced. From the way her mother’s nose wrinkled, she was disgusted by the Tophie-ism.
“Don’t be sarcastic with me, young lady.”
Great, Topher thought as she leaned back against the door. She wanted to stay close to the exit in case there was an opportunity for escape. She’s already whipping out the “young lady.”
“What are you doing with him? I know your self-esteem suffers because of your weight issues, but surely you could do better. Maybe that nice young man, what’s his name?”
“Tiny Mike?” Topher widened her eyes and attempted to look innocent. “Really? He’s married, and I wouldn’t call him a young man.”
“No.” She waved off Topher’s pretend-sincere suggestion impatiently. “Not that one. The other one.”
“The security guard who looks like a bulldog?”
Cecelia must have caught on to Topher’s game, because she gave her a flat look. “Of course not. You know which one I mean.”
“If you’re referring to Danny, Jamie’s nephew, then you can just wipe that idea off your brain. He’s lazy, spoiled, immature and a complete drama-whore.”
“Language!”
Topher ignored her mother’s correction. “What’s wrong with Jamie-Be—uh, I mean, James?”
“Do you even have to ask that?” Waving her hand to indicate her own face, Cecelia grimaced. “He’s hideous.”
A flash of rage made her clench her fists and lean her upper body forward. “He is not hideous! He’s wonderful. I don’t even see the scars anymore. He’s just my Jamie-Bear, and he’s perfect.”
“Coco. That is kind of you to say, but it can’t be true.” Her mother’s words were filled with syrupy condescension. “It’s not just his appearance—which is bad enough—but he’s—” she lowered her voice to an echoing whisper “—disabled. If you get into a relationship with him, you’ll end up as his caretaker. I don’t want that life for you.”
There were so many things wrong with that statement, so many responses that Topher wanted to make, that she tried to inhale and talk at the same time, causing her to choke. Cecelia patted her back with motherly care that just fueled Topher’s rage-y sputtering.
“Disabled?” she finally managed to wheeze. “What? How? Jamie is not disabled! He’s one of the most...able people I’ve ever met. What are you talking about?”
“Darling.” If she thought her mother was being condescending before, now she positively oozed it. “His...eye.”
Topher’s jaw dropped. “Are you...? Can you seriously think...?” She closed her eyes and mouth. “For the love of little baby Jesus...” When she gathered enough patience to finally look at Cecelia again, her mom was frowning.
“Oh, dear. You haven’t gone all religious on us, have you?” Her mother said “religious” with the exact same horrified intonation that she’d used while saying “disabled.” “Is this the reason for your unfortunate choice of men? Are you doing the whole...help-the-leper thing? I sincerely hope not, since martyrdom is so unattractive.”
In every single conversation with her mother that she could remember, there was a point when Topher knew continuing was futile. Nothing would get accomplished, and she’d just risk giving herself a stroke. Topher realized that they’d passed that point shortly after entering Jamie’s study.
“Mom. I haven’t found Jesus.” Topher spoke quickly, ticking off each point on her fingers. Despite her doubt that anything would sink in, she couldn’t leave the room without at least attempting to get through to her mother. “I have found Jamie, though. I like him, and I’m not giving him up, so please don’t try to make me. Now, I’m hungry, since I’ve been shopping all day while dodging attacks from a bunch of female sharks. Therefore, I’m heading to the kitchen to beg some snacks from a food goddess named Leigh.”
“But, darling...”
There was another hour of argument packed into those two words, and Topher shook her head. “No. This conversation is done, and we are not going to revisit it again. Would you like me to show you the way back to the living room, or did you want to go to the kitchen with me?”
If the Botox in her face had allowed the skin to move, her mother would have been glaring. “I don’t want you to ruin your life because of a silly misconception. The whole Beauty and the Beast idea may seem romantic and noble, but reality is different from a fairy tale.”
“Mom.” She rose up on tiptoe to kiss Cecelia’s cheek. “I love you. Now, stop talking about Jamie. Did you want to meet Leigh? Her food is so good that it makes me want to cry.”
“No, I do not want to meet this person, and you shouldn’t be begging for scraps in the kitchen, either.”
Unable to hold back a grimace, Topher led the way out of the study. At least the topic of food had distracted her mom from the topic of Jamie. She’d much rather get lectured about her weight for the thousandth time than listen to ridiculous comments about Jamie’s scars and “disability.”
“Tophie.”
His rough voice brought an instant smile to her face, dissolving all her irritation lingering from the argument with her mom. “Jamie-Bear!” She gave a little skip before throwing herself at him. As she looped her arms around his neck, Topher ignored her mother’s annoyed huff.
Catching her around the waist with one arm, Jamie held her easily against him, supporting her weight so her feet dangled off the floor. He grinned down at her. “Hungry?”
“Starved!” The fervor in her voice made him chuckle. “It’s like you’re a mind-reader. I was just heading to see if Leigh had any extra nibbles I could mooch, just so I don’t faint from malnutrition before dinner. It’s been fourteen stomach years since breakfast, you know.”
Cecelia made another, louder huff, which Topher also disregarded. Jamie made it easy by giving her a light kiss before lowering her feet to the floor.
“I’ll save you a trip to the kitchen,” he said, lifting the hand that hadn’t been wrapped around her. In it, he was holding a small plate. Eyes widening with greedy glee, Topher reached for the food, but he moved the plate out of reach.
She pouted. “Sadist.”
“Manners,” he reproved, giving her protruding bottom lip a look that should’ve made her nervous about future repercussions, but it just made her wet, instead. “Mrs. Topher?” Jamie extended the plate toward Cecelia, who eyed it with horror, as if the food was actually a live, deadly snake.
“No.” Her voice crackled with ice. “Thank you. And Coco does not need the additional calories.”
Topher looked at Jamie, wanting to catch his eye so they could exchange an eye roll, but he was staring at her mother. If Cecelia’s expression was chilly, then Jamie’s was practically glacial. She waited, cringing inside, for his verbal bitch-slapping, but the cutting comment never came.
“Tophie,” he said, instead.
“Yes, pumpkin-face?”
The endearment put the slightest amused cracks in the frigid edges of his expression. “Open your mouth.”
She did, slightly warily, and he placed a tiny puff-pastry on her tongue. When Topher bit down, she discovered it had been filled by something incredible. Her eyes closed of their own volition as she savored the bit of heaven in her mouth.
“Oh my God,” she breathed after swallowing. “I love Leigh. Have I mentioned that? I love her with the power of a thousand suns. Mom, you have to try one of these. They’re like a—” She broke off abruptly before saying the words “mouth orgasm” to her mother. “Amazing. They’re simply amazing.”
“Coco, I’ve changed my mind.”
“Hmm?” Since Jamie was holding another incredible creation by her lips, Topher wasn’t really paying attention to what her mother was saying. Instead, she opened her mouth, allowing him to feed her again. Before he withdrew his fingers, she closed her lips, sucking on the digits before they popped from her hold. For her reward, he gave a purr-like rumble.
“We should visit the kitchen.” Her mom’s words were a faint, irritating buzz in the background as Topher chewed the latest heavenly offering, leaning against Jamie’s chest as she smiled up at him in gratitude. “I’m sure this cook could make a wonderful kale smoothie for you.”
Jerked out of her happy food haze, Topher stared at Cecelia. “That’s so wrong. I think I would rather become anorexic than drink kale. Besides, my wonderful, darling Jamie-Bear brought me snacks, so I don’t have to go on a food-based treasure hunt anymore. Should we go join everyone else? After our little shopping excursion, I’ve been thinking about the numbing properties of alcoholic beverages all day.”
His chest moving with silent laughter, Jamie waved both women in front of him. Topher, eyeing the plate of goodies, reluctantly fell in behind her mom.
“There are more hors d’oeuvres in the living room,” he assured her quietly, correctly interpreting her anxious, over-the-shoulder glances.
Slowing so that he was right behind her, heating her back side from knees to neck, she tipped back her head. “But they taste better when you feed them to me.” With a grin, he bent to press his lips to hers. The playful kiss quickly turned intense, and Topher lost track of where they were until Cecelia interrupted the moment with a huff.
Although she figured that she should be embarrassed at the PDA, all Topher felt was giddy and horny as they walked the rest of the way to the living room in silence. As soon as they entered the noisy room, Cecelia pulled Topher in one direction, while Tiny Mike pounced on Jamie and towed him—and his plate of goodies—to the other side of the crowd.
Topher’s shoulders fell in a silent sigh, and she was thankful for the fifty-eighth time that day that she was sharing a room with Jamie. At least that would guarantee some private time later. A thrilled shiver shot up her spine at the thought of what activities that “private time” might include.
“Guess who was able to join us?” Cecelia asked her in a low voice, pulling Topher’s attention from Jamie’s receding back.
Even though she attempted to sound enthusiastic, Topher’s voice came out flat. “Who?”
Her mom pointed discreetly at the back of the man currently speaking to Peyton—actually, judging from where his gaze was focused, he was having a conversation with Peyton’s boobs. It took Topher a second to recognize him from behind.
“Seriously?” She groaned when she realized who it was. “You let Tommy Marchant tag along? Why?”
“Stop it,” Cecelia scolded, giving Topher a sharp pinch on the back of her arm, right above the elbow. “You should be happy to have more...attractive options.”
“You think Tommy Marchant is attractive?” Topher couldn’t stop her nose from wrinkling. “Ew.”
“Of course he’s attractive, Coco.”
“I think he’s gross.” When her mom reached to pinch her again, Topher twisted her arm out of range. “Plus, I’m way too old for him.”
“What?” Cecelia turned to stare at her. “Don’t be silly. He’s close to forty.”
“I know.” Knowing her next statement would bring another pinch, Topher took a step sideways away from her mom’s reach. “And he hit on me when I was fourteen and looked like I was ten. The man likes them young. That’s why I think he’s gross. Uber-gross, actually.”
“You say the most ridiculous things,” Cecelia grumbled before towing her toward the perv.
“What’s ridiculous about saying that a pedophile is gross?”
Ignoring her daughter’s question, Cecelia plastered on a smile and jerked on Topher’s arm while elbowing Peyton out of the way.
“Tommy, darling!” she cooed, wedging them into the conversation and forcing a scowling Peyton to take a step back. Despite Peyton’s pit-viper personality, Topher almost felt sorry for her. She’d been at the mercy of her mother’s elbows many times, and those suckers were sharp. “You remember Coco, don’t you?”
“Of course!” Tommy’s too-tan face folded into a grin. Topher couldn’t figure out why her mom thought the man was handsome. To her, he looked like a Ken doll’s creepy molester uncle, especially when he winked at them. “How could I forget your beautiful twin sister?”
As her mother tittered in response to his icky flirting, Topher fought to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head.
“Oh, you!” Cecelia scolded, giving his arm a teasing slap. Topher wished she’d pinched him, instead. If anyone deserved it, it was Bad-Touch Tommy. “Coco is my daughter.”
“And she’s growing up to be as gorgeous as her mother.” Tommy reached out, as if to hug Topher. Attempting to dodge the embrace, Topher took a hasty step back and to the side. She knocked against Peyton and heard the other woman’s grunt as Topher’s elbow connected with her midsection.
“Sorry.” Topher made an apologetic face at a glaring Peyton before turning back to Tommy. Unfortunately, her stumble had allowed him to get close enough to catch her in a super-awkward, too-long hug. Every muscle in her body stiff, she endured the embrace for as long as she could. Just as Topher was ready to drive her knee into the sleaze’s junk, someone was pulling her away from Tommy.
“Marchant.” Jamie’s greeting sounded more like a warning as he tugged Topher back against his chest. Barely able to restrain an exclamation of gratitude, she reached back and gave his leg a pat of thanks, instead. “Didn’t realize you were coming.”
Tommy’s smile hardened around the edges. “Hawkins. Good to see you. When the Tophers asked if I’d join them for Christmas, how could I turn them down?”
Her next pat was apologetic. Not only had her parents invited themselves to poor Jamie’s house, but they’d invited the neighborhood creeper. Excellent.
Jamie grunted. Although Topher felt responsible for the newest onslaught of unwelcome guests, she was also still hungry, so she checked to see if the plate was still in his possession. To her disappointment, Jamie was no longer bearing food. It seemed unfair that she had to face both her mother, Peyton and icky Tommy Marchant on a mostly empty stomach.
“Jamie.” Peyton’s throaty voice interrupted Topher’s thoughts of her persecution. “Why don’t we leave the Tophers with Tommy so that they can get reacquainted?” Her black-widow fingers wrapped around one of Jamie’s arms and tugged.
In protest of that extremely bad idea, Topher’s patting hand grabbed a fistful of fabric covering Jamie’s leg. If Peyton did manage to pull him away, he’d be leaving without his pants. The image of Jamie in tear-away clothes like a stripper was equal parts arousing and hysterically funny.
“Wonderful idea,” Cecelia chimed in, and Topher immediately lost any urge to laugh. Her second hand dropped to grab his other pant leg.
“No,” Jamie said flatly, making Topher sag against him in relief. “I haven’t seen Tophie all day. They can get reacquainted later.” As he nudged her away from the group, she released her grip on his pants. “Excuse us. Tophie’s hungry.”
His hand moved to her lower back as he escorted her across the room.
“Thank you,” she breathed, spotting someone carrying a tray. She changed course to intercept the server, a bit like a food-seeking missile.
“I assumed by your death grip that you didn’t want to ‘catch up’ with Marchant,” he said dryly.
“I’d rather be punched in the face,” she agreed, before making a sound of impatience when Barb stepped in front of her, obstructing Topher’s path to the snack source. She wished she really were a missile, so she could blow up Barb-the-food-blocker.
Barb opened her mouth, but Topher flashed a million-watt, empty-headed smile and spoke before the other woman could.
“Barbie Doll! You look amaze-balls! Where’s Dan-Dan? Oh, there he is, talking to that super-hot girl with the tray. Wow, her boobs are, like, enormous. I wonder if they get in the way of her tray-holding.”
Barb’s head snapped around, Exorcist-style, and she glared at the server and Danny. Although Topher felt a tiny bit of guilt for throwing the two across the room under the bus, her remorse was quickly eaten by her gnawing hunger.
“Dan-Dan must be wondering the same thing, judging by the way he’s staring at her boobie-blockade.”
Making a sound scarily close to a growl, Barb charged toward the flirting pair. As Topher headed in the other direction, her eyes fixed on the second, less-boobilicious server, she heard a low chuckle behind her.
“Nice work,” Jamie said in a low voice. “I could use your skills of redirection if the acting career doesn’t work out.”
“If I want to spend my days miserable and potentially homicidal in a cubicle, Ben’s already offered me a job,” she responded absently, her focus on the server now heading for the door. Did that mean that his tray was empty? She swallowed a despairing wail as the server left the room. It had to have been at least fifty-two stomach years since the heavenly cinnamon roll. She eyed Tiny’s heaping plate and resisted the urge to tackle him to the ground.
“Not worth it.” Apparently, Jamie could read minds, since he looped a restraining arm around her waist. “His fingers have been all over everything on that plate.”
“Fine,” she sighed, looking around the room. Barb and Danny were huddled in a corner and appeared to be arguing. There were no food trays in sight. “Where did the boobacious server go? Did Barb slit her throat and hide her body in a closet?”
“That’s a little too possible to be funny,” Jamie grumbled. “Want to go directly to the source and raid the kitchen?”
“Yes, please!”
Before they reached the door, Julia stepped into the room, blocking their path. It was Topher’s turn to growl.
“Dinner is served,” Julia announced, raising her voice to be heard over the crowd.
“Thank the blessed food gods!” Topher felt Jamie’s chest move with his silent laughter.
“And Leigh.”
“Yes,” she agreed fervently, hurrying toward the dining room. “We should definitely thank Leigh.”