“Man is not what he thinks he is, he is what he hides.”
― André Malraux
~Cletus~
It was a beautiful ceremony.
Jethro, unsurprisingly, wasn’t nervous. My oldest brother wasn’t the nervous type. But he did choke up when Sienna walked down the aisle.
Heck, I think we all did.
She appeared at the edge of the wildflower field, gussied up in a white cloud of a dress, looking like an angel. Sienna was beautiful, made even more so by the way she looked at my brother.
She took three steps toward the altar and my eyes cut to Jenn.
My Jenn.
My Jenn wasn’t looking at me. She was looking at Sienna with a big, happy smile on her face, so she didn’t see me as I stared at her, and imagined our wedding day. I imagined the moment she would appear, gussied up in a white cloud of a dress, looking like an angel.
Or maybe we would elope, just the two of us. Maybe to Alaska, where we’d have a private ceremony under a surprising sky.
Honestly, I didn’t care.
Virtuous fortitude, I reminded myself. Patience. The reminders made me grumpy, so I focused on the beautiful ceremony and my brother’s happiness.
After the I dos were over, the festivities started. I sought Jennifer as soon as the wedding party arrived at the reception site.
A large tent had been erected at the back of the property with a huge dance floor, covering a giant area both inside and outside the temporary structure. Traditional Mexican dishes and traditional Tennessee home cooking were side by side on the buffet, with vegan options also available for those lunatics that didn’t eat meat.
The good news was I found Jenn almost immediately. The bad news was she was talking to Jackson James.
My grumpiness returned and intensified.
I plotted an intercept course but was stopped by a hand on my elbow. Irritable, I turned, prepared to shake off this usurper’s fingers.
But it was Claire.
So I didn’t.
Instead, I returned her smile.
“Claire McClure, we meet again.”
Her grin widened and she laughed, pulling me into a hug. “Hello, Cletus. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m perfectly adequate.” I leaned away and captured her hand, tucking it in the crook of my elbow. “Will you stay and dance with me?”
“Only if you sing a song with me.”
I shook my head. “I guess we’re not dancing then.”
Her mouth pressed into a frustrated line. “Come on, come sing with me. You deserved that recording contract just as much as I did, and yet you insisted on playing second fiddle.”
“That’s because second fiddle gets all the Banana Cake Queens.”
“Good.” She nodded once, ardently. “I was planning on harassing you about her today, but I’m glad you finally came to your senses. You two are perfect for each other.”
“We are, aren’t we?” My eyes automatically sought Jennifer and I frowned. Jackson James had said something to make her laugh.
Itchy britches.
But then I caught myself smiling as my attention snagged on her mouth. I’d take her smile in any form, for any reason, even if Jackson had been the one to put it on her face.
“So there’s nothing I can say to convince you to sing with me?” Claire pressed.
“No.” I gathered a deep breath, turning to Claire and removing her hand from my arm, but keeping our fingers hooked together. “I aspire to different achievements than worldly success, and I know you do as well. But, Claire, I’m glad you finally saw reason and accepted the record deal. Your star is too bright to hide in plain sight.”
“You just rhymed, Cletus. I might have to steal that for a song.”
“Go ahead. I ain’t using it for anything profitable.”
Claire’s eyes moved over my features as though I were precious to her. I guess I was, in a way. I suspected we all were, even Billy.
As though reading my mind, her smile waned and her eyes fell from my face to my bow tie. She removed her fingers from mine and straightened my tie, smoothing her hands down my lapels, then lifting to her tiptoes to place a kiss on my cheek.
“Thank you for believing in me, Cletus. I’ll pay you back one of these days.”
I nodded, considering—studying her—then took a chance and suggested gently, “If you want to pay me back, go ask Billy to sing with you.”
A flash of pain burned bright behind her eyes and her smile dropped, falling into an anxious frown. She shook her head, saying softly, “He doesn’t want to sing with me.”
Her denial had me huffing a laugh. “Oh, Claire. He only wants to sing with you. No one else. Never anyone else. Just you.”
My words did nothing to ease the anxiety in her expression. In fact, it seemed to heighten it. Her eyes darted away, searching, and she pasted a forced smile over her features.
“I think Jennifer is looking for you.” Claire pointed to my right and I followed her gaze.
Sure enough, Jennifer was looking at us and grinning. She waved at Claire happily, then her gorgeous eyes moved to me. Her smile grew.
“Tell her I said hi.”
I felt Claire squeeze my arm, but when I turned back to my friend I was met with the sight of her back, walking away. I scowled at her, at her wrong-headedness. I didn’t understand her.
Stubborn woman.
Clearly she was in love with my brother.
But there was nothing I could do about her. At least, not yet. Maybe later.
I turned my attention back to Jenn and Jackson, and continued my original course, meandering with purpose toward my woman.
“Jackson,” I said as I pulled even with them, ensuring my voice was as flat as the tires of his car.
They aren’t flat yet, but they will be.
He turned his smiling brown eyes to me and they dimmed as I wrapped my arm around Jenn’s waist and pressed a kiss to her neck.
“Hey,” I said, ignoring him.
She smiled up at me, wrapping her arm around my waist as well. “Hey.”
“How are you?”
Her smile grew and her eyes lowered to my lips. “I missed you.”
She missed me.
Life is good.
I mirrored her smile, about to suggest we sneak off, but then Jackson cleared his throat.
“Hello, Cletus,” he said, drawing our attention back to his irritating face. I’d ignored him so well I’d forgotten he was still there.
“That was a nice ceremony,” he offered benignly.
“It was,” I admitted, still flat.
He scratched his neck. I followed the movement with my eyes while Jennifer gave me a sharp squeeze.
My grumpiness flared because I knew what that squeeze meant. She wanted me to talk to Jackson James, that’s what the squeeze meant.
Oh good Lord.
“I’m going to grab a drink and let you two talk,” she said meaningfully, pulling out of my grip while issuing me a big, encouraging smile. “Do you want anything?”
I mouthed the word you and she narrowed her eyes, shaking her head subtly and glancing at Jackson. Again, with meaning.
“I’ll grab you both a beer,” she said. “Stay here.”
Jenn left, drawing my eyes to her departing form as she walked away. I followed her movements until she disappeared in the throng.
And then I turned my attention back to Jackson and I frowned at him. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking out over the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces of the wedding guests.
“I don’t know most of these people, but I think I recognize a few,” he said, apropos of nothing, as though we were on friendly chitchatting terms.
My frown deepened and I was ready to rebuff his familiarity, but then I thought of Jennifer and how she’d asked me to give peace a chance.
Dammit.
Straightening my spine, I crossed my arms, and also scanned the crowd. “That’s because lots of these folks are movie stars, friends of Sienna’s and such.”
He nodded absentmindedly, his attention snagging on a tall brunette. “I’m not going to point, but I think that’s Raquel Ezra.”
He was right. The tall brunette was Raquel Ezra; she was the latest Hollywood bombshell. I glanced away, instinctively finding myself searching for Jenn again. I found her loitering by the bar, glaring at me, with her hands on her hips.
Her message was clear.
I rolled my eyes.
Resigned, I turned to Jackson. “Here’s the deal, Jack.”
His eyes cut to mine and I saw either my tone or my words had surprised him.
Ready to put this farce behind me, I launched into my complaint. “I don’t like you pulling me over for no reason, wasting my time. And I don’t like you pulling over my brothers either. And I don’t like the way you treated my sister in high school, but I guess nothing can be done about that now. So, moving forward, you need to stop abusing your power and start acting more like your father.”
He peered at me, turning his face slightly to one side. “More like my father?”
“Yes. More like the sheriff. You know. Like a badass officer of righteousness and awesome.” I nodded once, considering the description, then added, “And humility. He’s good at the humility, too.”
Unexpectedly, the side of Jackson’s mouth hitched and his eyes—instead of dimming and growing sullen, as I’d expected—warmed with respect.
“Fine. I’ll stop pulling you over and wasting your time.”
I squinted at him, at this Jackson James person who did not behave as expected. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“And what about my brothers?”
“Duane is leaving with Jess this week, so I won’t be pulling him over anymore.” He shrugged. “But I do maintain it was my prerogative to harass Duane as I saw fit, since he is dating my sister.”
I considered his logic, but before I could decide if I agreed with it, he continued.
“But since Duane is leaving, there’s no reason to pull over Beau,” he added thoughtfully, his attention moving back to the movie star Raquel Ezra. He lifted his chin in her direction. “What do you think my chances are there?”
I glared at him, suspicious of his easy acquiescence. Then I glared at Ms. Ezra, automatically sizing up the situation.
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. I’d overheard Sienna tell Jessica that Ms. Ezra was extremely open with her sexuality and was notorious for her proclivities involving handcuffs and sex toys. I decided not to share this information with Jackson. “She doesn’t appear to have a date, so you’ve got that in your favor.”
He stared at the woman, then—again, apropos of nothing—said, “You’re a lucky man, Cletus. Jennifer is a beautiful woman.”
I nodded my agreement, but said, “You’re right and you’re wrong.”
Jackson’s eyes searched mine. “How so?”
“Well, you’re right. Jennifer is a beautiful woman. But you’re wrong, because that’s not why I’m lucky.”
His eyebrows jumped, clearly not expecting my response, and I clapped my hand on his shoulder, giving him a small shake.
“Good talk, Jack.”
“It’s Jackson,” he corrected, stepping out of my grip but giving me an amused smile.
“We’ll see,” I said, then turned, walking straight for Raquel Ezra, debating the perplexing events of the last few minutes.
I didn’t trust Jackson much, but he’d seemed sincere. And if he was sincere, then Jenn had been right. And if Jenn was right . . . well then, that just proved how amazing she was.
“Excuse me,” I said, tapping Ms. Ezra on the arm.
The woman flipped her long brown hair over her shoulder. Her gaze made a quick perusal of my form and features, then finally lifted to mine.
“Yes?” she asked, a smile curving her painted lips; she stepped closer.
I retuned her smile. “I’m Cletus Winston, Jethro’s brother. Sienna has spoken of you with great esteem.”
“Sienna is the best.” Raquel said, with feeling.
I turned, pointing to Jackson James. “My friend over there is a police officer, local law enforcement.”
Her attention moved to Jackson and I saw his eyes widen, bouncing between Ms. Ezra and me.
She conducted the same swift once-over of Jackson that she’d employed on me. “Oh? Is he?”
“He is. And he’s got handcuffs with him.” I gave her an even smile. “Just FYI.”
Her lips twisted to the side and her brown eyes danced with laughter. “Thanks for the tip.”
“No problem. Have a nice evening.” I administered a short bow and turned for the table where I’d spotted Jennifer last.
I was determined to kiss her. We hadn’t kissed properly since the night before. Then maybe we’d dance. And then maybe I’d whisk her away and tell her she was right. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of telling her she was right.
***
“Think of your feet.”
“There is nothing wrong with my feet. Put me down.” She laughed, and her laughter was heaven.
I craved it.
As of two hours ago, Sienna and Jethro were declared wife and husband. Jennifer had made the cake—which was not a banana cake, since Jethro hated bananas—and the wedding festivities were ongoing outside.
But we were inside, and had both had three glasses of champagne, and were presently on our way to my room. And she was still laughing.
As much as I enjoyed her laughter, I also enjoyed the other sounds she made. Consequently, as soon as we entered my bedroom, I sought those other sounds.
I kissed her as we crossed the threshold and she laughed against my mouth. “Are you trying to distract me? Because it’s working.”
“Not at all.” I kicked the door closed and let her slide from my arms, smoothly placing her feet on the floor. “I’m just really concerned about the health of your toes.”
“Why is that?” Jennifer turned her bright and brilliant eyes to me while she smoothed down her dress. It was a deep purple that clung to her body, making me want to peel it off. I wanted to unwrap her.
“Because I think I’d like to suck on them.”
She stood a tad straighter, lifting an eyebrow at me. “What?”
“I want to suck on your toes.”
“That sounds unpleasant. For both of us.”
I grinned, but not too wide, advancing on her until the backs of her legs met the bed. “Let’s just see, shall we?”
“Are you serious?” She caught herself before she fell backward, her eyes betraying her disbelief. “You’re joking. This is a joke.”
“It’s not. I am as serious as . . . as—”
The sound and feel of Jennifer undoing my belt buckle had me frowning at her. “What are you doing?”
Her fingers made quick work of my zipper and soon my pants and boxers were around my ankles. Saying nothing, she turned us, then pushed me to a sitting position on the bed. Kneeling between my knees, she gave me a frantic kiss, grabbed my hands, and pressed them to her breasts through her dress.
Jennifer broke our kiss just long enough to say really essential things like,
“I love you.”
And,
“I want you to touch me.”
And then,
“But first I’m going to give you a blow job.”
Now, I admit, I was distracted. A man has only so much focus. When handed two, perfect breasts, all other thoughts must abruptly cease, and all attention is rerouted to the palms.
It took me several seconds to decipher the meaning behind her gibberish, but when I did, it was too late. I was already in her mouth.
“Oh!”
Fuck.
I released a startled breath and my brain shut off. It just . . . flipped off. It hung up the closed-for-business sign and checked out. I’d been wrong about so many things recently. But this, denying Jennifer’s request to do this last week, was the wrongest.
See? Brain gone. Wrongest isn’t a word. But I didn’t know that. All I knew was that I never wanted this to end, but it was going to end. It was going to end mortifyingly soon. And there wasn’t a single fucking thing I could do about it.
Her eyes lifted to mine, full of excitement and trust, and I groaned.
So she stopped, gripping me in her hand and withholding her mouth. “Is it okay? Am I doing okay?”
“You are so perfect I don’t have words to describe how perfect you are,” I said on a rush, but then I held her shoulders as she moved to return her mouth. “Wait. I’m about to come, and you don’t want to—”
“No. No. I’m good. I read about this. I’m good. I’m prepared. I know what I’m doing.”
And with that, she took me inside her again. An involuntary sound escaped my throat, and then another. Later, I would thank Jethro for hiring a live band, because I wasn’t quiet, but no one would have heard me.
I was going to die.
I was going to die from how good this felt.
But I didn’t. I came, wanting to wrap my fingers in her hair but instead gripping the comforter on either side of my thighs.
She finished and I fell backward on the bed, reaching for her. She evaded me. Through one eye I watched as she leaned to the side, picked up a previously hidden washcloth and pressed it to her mouth. Then she picked up a hidden bottle of mouthwash and rinsed out her mouth, using another towel. And then, she picked up a hidden bottle of water and took a swallow.
Then and only then did she come to me, laying pressed against my side, a smug smile on her lips. “So, I was perfect?”
I exhaled an incredulous laugh, enjoying the sight of her triumphant moment, enjoying her. “You planned this.”
Her grin widened. “I did.”
“You’re a sneak.”
She nodded. “I am.”
I shook my head—at her, at myself.
“I love you,” I said, and breathed, and felt, and knew, and believed. I was faithing Jennifer. I was faithing her so hard.
And she was faithing me as she responded, “I love you more.”
This was our life. This woman was my future. She would be the mother of my children.
This was our beginning.
I couldn’t wait for the middle.
And I never wanted it to end.