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The Rebellion by S.L. Scott (36)

35

Jaymes

Exhausted, I lie on the bed and watch him at the window. The lights from The Strip light up the room even with the interior lamps off. I roll to my side and tuck my hands under my head. “Where do you fly off to?”

Languidly he looks my way. All the tension from his body has disappeared. For someone made of solid muscles, he looks at ease. Peace looks good on him. “I’m not sure. I usually send Tommy a text and ask. Or not. Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

He comes back to bed and we readjust until my head is resting on his legs as he leans against the headboard. “Why?” Fingertips dance across my skin, my body his instrument to create his own music.

“I want you to be present in your life, to feel the difference between the salty air of Florida and the mountain air of Colorado. Then when you come home to me, I want you to tell me all about standing in Times Square at midnight and eating BBQ in Kansas City. Is the water around Hawaii as blue as your eyes or is it more sea green? Watch the fog roll over the hills of Sausalito and then tell me how long it takes before it disappears into the ocean. I need you to experience everything you can and remember for me.”

“Come with me. Come with me and let me show you how the Eiffel Tower sparkles at night. There’s a little Mom and Pop restaurant just outside Rome that’s worth the trip to eat their homemade pasta. And when you’re in the Maldives, you can sit on the beach and forget that everyone else exists in the world. Standing at the base of Christ the Redeemer in Rio, you suddenly feel small enough to believe there just might be something bigger than us out there. Let me show you the world, my love.”

“Just like Andromeda and Perseus, we can outrun our fates.”

“Because they ended up in the heavens doesn’t mean they didn’t fulfill their destinies.”

I slide up and sit next to him. His arm around my shoulder holds me close and I drop my head on his. “Guess we’ll see how tomorrow turns out.”

“I’m not willing to risk it. You can move into my house.”

“No, I can’t. We didn’t take it slow, but I think taking that kind of leap might be too fast for all of us.”

“I’ll be back in three weeks. I want you to find a place, somewhere safe, somewhere he can’t find you.”

“I’m at my mom’s.”

“That’s not safe. If he wants to get to you, he will, and you know it.”

Rearranging, I turn to face him, pulling the sheet over my lap and crossing my legs. “It’s not something I like to talk about, but you need to know what you’re getting into when you decide if you want to see me beyond this weekend.”

“There’s no if, Jaymes. Not for me.”

“You always were too stubborn for your own good.”

“I can say the same about you.”

“I need to say this, though, and I need you to hear me, really hear me. Reggie will be in our lives forever.” Despite my constant wishing for his early demise. “There’s no changing that.” And then the floodgate of questions is opened.

“How often does he come around?”

“Not often. Every few months.”

“Why does he come around?”

“Who knows? Money. To keep me scared. To make sure you’re not there. Not for Ace.”

“Is that why he doesn’t know about me coming to your mom’s?”

“He never goes over there. Like I said, my mom has made it very clear to him.”

“So he has a vendetta against me. What will happen if I show up?”

“He said he’d kill you. I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten a whiff of you visiting those two times.”

“How would he?”

“He has guys, druggies who will snitch for a hit. The thing about Reggie is that he’s the same guy you knew. He’s a lot bark, but not much bite. His ego is what keeps him in charge. He’s not afraid to hurt someone or worse, so no one messes with him. But he’s still small-time in the grand scheme of LA.”

“So when you return to your mom’s house, do you think he’ll come around?”

“He was arrested before we left. I should have told you. I know I’m a chickenshit to come here under the threat being lifted, but his arrest is our reprieve. He’s threatened our lives so many times, I think he’s capable of following through. With him in jail, I knew we could slip away and be back and he wouldn’t be the wiser.”

His hand warms my knee. “I wish I would have known what you’ve been going through.”

“You don’t need my troubles. You don’t need anyone dragging you down.”

“You don’t drag me down. I love you. I love Ace. Heck, I love your mom. We may not be married, but we’re family.”

Not a family, but family. It’s silly to notice such a slight variation of words but it means more than what was said. “Yeah,” I say, sighing. “Family.”

I scoot under the covers and lie down.

“Hey, did I say something wrong?”

“No.” I’m the worst actress ever. “I’m just tired. I’m going to get a little more sleep before morning comes.”

“So that’s it?”

“I think so.”

“You go back to that place and I go on tour and we go our separate ways or what? I’m confused what just happened here?”

“That makes two of us.” My eyes are closed, but I can feel the burn of his gaze.

When I finally open mine, he asks, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to sleep.”

“You know what I mean. Why are you pulling away from me?”

I don’t want us to leave on bad terms and I don’t want to hide how his words made me feel. Sitting up, I face him again. “Because we’re like family, we’re not your family.”

“Is that what you want? You want us to be a family? I’ll go down to that Elvis chapel right now and marry you if that’s what you want.”

“Derrick, don’t say things you don’t mean.”

“I mean it.” And by the look of determination in his eyes, he does.

“You’re still drunk.”

“I only had two drinks last night, so nope, not drunk.”

“You’re tired. You said yourself you’re exhausted from traveling so much.”

“I am tired. Fucking tired, but I’m not tired right now. I feel pretty damn awake actually.”

Biting my lip, I analyze every little feature on his face, searching for the crack in his composure, the lie that I’ll surely find. The trouble is, I’m not finding any. I actually find the opposite—the truth. “You mean it, don’t you?”

“I do. I’d marry you right now, Jaymes.”

“Do you understand what you’re saying?”

“I do.”

“Do you understand how insane it is that we’re even talking about this?”

“I do.”

“Do you have a fever?”

“I do. I’m hot for you.”

“You can’t just be hot for me. Sure the sex is great, we get along well. We always did. Ace clearly adores you, but this is crazy talk. Don’t you think?”

“I do. And I still want to marry you.” Reaching out, he picks me up by my ass and pulls me onto his lap. With his arms around me, and a smile that confirms he really means everything he said, he asks, “Do you think I’d make a good dad?”

“I do.” Kissing his temple, I whisper, “The best dad.”

“Do you think I could make you happy?”

“I do.” I place another kiss on his cheek. “The happiest.”

“Do you trust me to take care of you and your family?”

“I do.” I kiss the corner of his mouth. “Implicitly.”

“Do you love me?”

“I do.” Kissing his lips, I stay, and say, “With my whole heart.”

“Jaymes Grenier, will you be my forever and marry me?” I’m about to answer, but his finger presses to my lips, and he says, “Save it for the ceremony. What time’s your flight?”

Okay, that was so sexy I’m melty inside. Wait . . . “Today?”

“Yes. Today.”

“Noon.”

“Perfect. You get some sleep. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I land on the bed with a little bounce after he rolls me off him. Lifting up on my elbows, I protest, “What? No. How am I supposed to sleep now?”

“I don’t know. Try closing your eyes and being very quiet.”

“Your sarcasm is not appreciated, but duly noted.”

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.” He’s chuckling as he walks out of the room with his phone to his ear.

The door is shut behind him, but I’m too giddy to sleep because I just said yes to marrying Derrick Masters, the first and only man I’ve ever loved. Well, kind of. He wouldn’t let me actually say yes, but I’m definitely not saying no.

I grab my phone from the nightstand to call my mom, but it’s only three in the morning. I huff, wanting to tell someone, but damn it, why did he have to go and ask me in the middle of the night? I have too much energy to lie still. I get up and emulate my five-year-old. Yup, I jump on the bed and touch the ceiling twice before the door opens and he peeks back in.

Getting the smile that would make me say yes a thousand more times, he adds, “Go to sleep. You’re gonna need it.”

This time I listen to him and flop down. When I’m covered up, he comes and tucks me in and kisses me on the head. “I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Plan a wedding.”

“You won’t let me help?”

“It’s just boring phone calls tonight. You can plan the fun stuff when you get up.”

He starts to get up to leave. “Hey.” When he turns back, I ask, “Are you sure?”

“I can give you the boring phone calls if you prefer?”

“Not about that or the planning or me sleeping. Are you sure about us, and getting married?”

Sitting back down, his body leans to mine and he kisses me on the lips this time. “Never more sure about anything in my life. Now get some rest. I don’t want you yawning at the altar.” With that smile back in place, he winks, and leaves the room.

I lie there in the room with the lights outside the window still shining bright like the stars in the sky. Like Derrick and me.

We’re getting married.


Bolting upright, I exclaim, “I’m getting married.”

7:56 a.m. How is it possible that I fell asleep and slept like a baby for five hours on the morning of my wedding?

“Good morning, sunshine,” Derrick says, pushing in a room service cart full of food. “Hungry?”

“Famished.”

He goes back out and pushes another back in. “Me too, so I ordered the whole menu and two pots of coffee.”

“I might love you more for this.”

Laughing, he says, “Your love doesn’t come cheap.”

“Yeah, you must have spent a pretty penny or thousands to appease my appetite when all you had to do was come back to bed.”

Diving on the mattress next to me, he lies there like a starfish. “I did. I got a few good hours surprisingly.”

I reach over and grab some bacon from a platter piled high, and then I just decide to pull the cart up like it’s a TV tray. Makes getting to the scrambled eggs a lot easier. “You don’t mind me just eating off the plates?”

“Nope, go right ahead.”

He pours me a cup of coffee and brings it to what I am now staking claim to as my tray. “So how do you feel now that the sun’s up?”

“Are you asking if I’ve changed my mind about getting married?”

“Might be.”

“Stop giving me outs. I don’t need them. Do you?”

With a mouth full of egg-deliciousness, I shake my head. After I swallow, I say, “Not me, but I’m eating like a queen so really you got me at my weakest.”

“So food is the key to your heart?” He pretends to be jotting this down on his phone. “Good to know.”

“It’s not everyone’s?”

“I think your great tits are my kryptonite.”

Taking my phone, I mimic him and laugh. “So maybe I can entice you back to bed for a quickie.” I lower the sheet and flash him.

“Pre-wedding sex, Ms. Grenier? You know we’ll go to Hell for that sin.” Yes, and I’m going to enjoy every moment of it.

“We’ve already been. It’s only up from here. Now come over here and show me what heaven’s like.”