Something Blue (3 page)

Chapter Three

SURI

“So she’s still not confessing to it?” Merri asks.

She bumps me with her elbow as she holds the two sides of Lizzy’s dress together. We’re in a small room in the building to the right of the main house, practicing lacing up Lizzy’s wedding dress.

Liz is sucking in so much I think she’s turning blue.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I interrupt our talk about Marissa, stepping around to see the front of Liz.

She’s not blue; she’s flushed.

“Yeah,” she gasps. “It’s not the baby belly, it’s my boobs. The dress is…pulling on them.”

“Here,” Merri says. She shifts something on the dress’s other side, and Lizzy inhales. “That’s much better.”

“So what was their history?” Merri says, looking at me.

“Marchant dated Marissa in college. Non-seriously, but some serious things fell within the time-period of their relationship.” I’m not sure how else to say it, and I don’t want to risk betraying Marchant’s confidence.

“So she’s an old flame who never got over him?” Merri asks.

“She’s a crazy stalker,” Lizzy says.

“Yeah, pretty much. And no, Merri,” I say, as I start to tighten the dress’s long, sliky tie, “she hasn’t confessed to what she did. Not officially. She keeps saying it wasn’t her. Even though the person who broke in and went after me had long hair, just like hers, and was thin, like her, and left footprints in a size eight, and Marissa had been calling and hanging up, and one time, even talking to me. It was totally her. She just has issues. Obviously.”

“Forget her, Suri,” Liz says. “She’s in rehab, and you’re the new Mrs. Love Inc.”

And, shit! I have to blink back tears, because she says Mrs.

Merri notices—I can tell; her eyes flick over me—but keeps quiet. We’re friends, but we don’t know each other super well. Lizzy, on the other hand, can tell something is off even though she’s got her back to me.

“How are your treatments, Suri?”

Liz knows that Merri knows about my infertility issues, so it’s okay for her to ask me.

“Fine,” I say tightly.

“You’re feeling good?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Lizzy whirls around, jerking the silk tie from my hands as she spins, and shrieks, “Suri Dalton! How could you keep this from me?!”

“What?” My stomach lurches, and my hand goes automatically over my belly.

Lizzy’s eyes fly to Merri, who’s also pinned me with a look. “Your pregnancy!” Liz says.

My throat is so tight, I can hardly get words out. “I’m not…”

“Yes, you are! You think I didn’t notice! Drinking more water than an elephant, or a fish, or whatever drinks a lot of water! Look at your hands.” She grabs my hand. “Where are the rings, Suri,?”

“I’m simpli—”

She tugs a strand of my hair. “Look at this hair! Freshly highlighted, but where’s the blonde? The bleach?”

“I wanted to go—”

“And your clothes!”

“They’re baggy,” Merri says.

“Because I didn’t pack—”

“Oh no,” Lizzy interrupts. “Baggy clothes are for bag ladies. That’s a Suri Dalton quote of the month. Remember that?”

My cheeks feel warm, and my eyes start to sting a little.

Merri wraps her arms around me. She cuts her eyes at Lizzy, who is still raving in the grip of more aggressive, second trimester pregnancy hormones, and then she steps between the two of us.

She smooths her hand down my hair. “Dark is a great color on you,” Merri tells me. “You look stunning.”

Lizzy throws her arms around us both. “Congratulations, Sur. I didn’t mean to come on so strong but Suri, you’re
pregnant
!” She squees, and I start to cry.

“Oh no,” Merri murmurs. “Don’t cry, honey.”

“What’s wrong?” Lizzy asks.

I take a step back from both of them and sit down on a bench in the little sewing room, on the end of the building where Marchant’s therapist works, to the right of the main house if you’re looking from the front drive. It’s been patched up and is fully functional again, even re-decorated.

I put my hands over my face, which I know is blotchy and swollen and more broken-out than it ever even
thought
about being during hormone treatments.

“It’s Marchant’s baby,” I sob. “Marchant doesn’t know.”

“Why not?” Lizzy asks.

Merri gently pulls me down onto the bench, and Lizzy kneels in front of me, her wedding dress poofing out around her.

“Marchant doesn’t know because…he doesn’t want me! He doesn’t want to have a baby with me!”

Lizzy blinks up at me. “Why not?”

“He’s got too much on his plate already!”

“Do you like each other?” Merri asks me.

I look at her, solemn beside me. “I like him,” I sob. “I can’t seem to go home! He bought me a bathroom chair!”

“What?” Lizzy says, frownin.

“A vanity chair! He wants me to stay, but not with a baby. It’ll freak him out.” I cradle my slightly swollen belly, the baby I have wanted my entire life. I start to sob harder. “But I am pregnant! I just…want the Dad to want it.”

“Oh, he’ll want it,” Merri says.

“Take it from me, it’s hard to tell them, but he’ll be just like Hunter. Hunter can make him feel better, if that’s even needed. And it won’t be.” Lizzy’s eyes widen. “You’re sure it’s his, right?”

I gape are her. “Do I look THAT pregnant?” I haven’t slept with Adam in forever.

“No, just making sure.” She hugs my knees. “I’m so excited for you! Suri, you’re a mom now! Our kids will be sisters.”

“Do you know the gender?” Merri asks Liz.

“Do you?” I echo.

“No. But they’ll be sisters, just like us. It’s my prediction.”

I wipe my eyes. Support from my girls is nice, but I long to have Marchant’s arms around me.

“I want to tell him, but I’m not sure how,” I whisper.

“Just sit him down and tell him,” Merri says.

I look at her sympathetic face. “Have you told Cross you love him?”

She shrugs. “I guess so.”

“
Do
you love him?”

She nods. “I just don’t know if I
should
.”

“He’s been telling me all about you,” Lizzy says. “You’re it for him.”

“I know. And I love that. It’s just weird. I just…don’t want to mess things up with him. I’m not a virginal girl.”

“So what?” I say. “He loves you, Merri. He doesn’t care about the past.”

“I know. I shouldn’t either. Or maybe I should.” She rubs her eyes. “I’ve got a lot of feelings about it, and…” She shakes her head.

“Block out the bad stuff,” I say. “Try to forget about it. So you can be happy.”

“You, too. You need to tell him, Suri.”

I know I do. I’m just worried he’ll feel trapped.

Chapter Four

SURI

Today, after I practice lacing up Lizzy’s dress two more times, and Merri practices helping me lace it, I walk through the buildings. Everything is perfect: carpet, paint, wall hangings. The Love Inc. Ranch is re-opening soon, which means it’s only logical that I should leave.

Except that I don’t want to.

I’ve come to really care about Marchant, and he acts like he cares about me. So it will be okay. I’ve been talked up by Merri and Liz, who have, together, convinced me I can do this.

I go to the cottage, and find Marchant in the kitchen, wearing an apron and cooking omelets.

He stops what he’s doing, and comes over and kisses me on the cheek, then pulls out a bar stool for me. “Sit down. You look tired.”

“I am,” I tell him.

“What’d you do today?”

I tell him, and he sits beside me as we eat, and he tells me he told Cross about him being bipolar.

“What was that like?” I ask.

“Better than people thinking I’m an addict.”

“Good.” I wrap my arm around him. “I thought maybe it would be, once you got used to it.”

“He didn’t act weird about it. Not really.”

“Cross isn’t judgmental or anything. I think he likes you.”

“Yeah?”

I smile gently, and with our gazes all hung up on each other, we lean slowly together for a kiss. It’s like Lady and the Tramp, Omelet Edition. And it ends with Marchant swooping me up and carrying me to our room, where he strips my clothes off, pushes my legs apart, and uses his mouth to show me how he feels about me.

And it couldn’t be more fitting.

Except, it kind of sucks for him, because before he can have sex with me, I roll over on my side and say, “Marchant—I’m pregnant.”

I watch his face carefully, screening for shock. But instead, he just nods slowly. “I thought you might be.”

“What? It’s because my stomach, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, grinning like an idiot. “It’s because you stopped taking baths.”

“How did you know?”

He shrugs. “One of the girls here said something like that before. I don’t think it’s true, but...”

“No chances,” I say.

“I understand.”

“How do you feel about it?” I ask, holding my breath.

He pulls me to his chest and wraps his arms around me. He sits his chin on the top of my head and talks softly, more to the room than me. “Nervous,” he says. “I don’t want it to be like me. I’m not good enough for it. Or you.” I can feel him swallow. “But I want to do the best I can. Not for the baby—that, too—but for you, Suri.” He pulls away from me a little, so he can look down at me and see into my eyes.

“I’ve fallen in love with you.” He squeezes one of my shoulders, and with his other hand, cups my cheek. “I want to ask you—will you stay here with me? Will you go somewhere else with me? We can build a home. I need to live near here at least half time, but the rest of the time, we can live anywhere else. I’ll never stop taking my Lithium again. I want to be a father to the baby, and a husband to you.” He laughs a little. “I can’t believe I want it, but you make me different. Better.”

I nod slowly. “I don’t want to go. I want to try this with you. See how much we both like it.”

“A lot.” He kisses my cheek. “I want us both to like it a lot.”

I wrap my arms around him. “I think we already do.”

He laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard. His lips brush my ear gently. “Baby mama…”

*

MARCHANT

Suri is asleep. I couldn’t relax enough to join her—yet.

So here I am, sitting on the porch with a cigar, thinking about how unbelievably lucky I am. We talked for a long time about our plans, and we decided we’re going to build a house near here, and raise our child there. Yeah—I said it. ‘Raise our child’. And it’s weird, how excited I am about having a baby. I’ve been a playboy for a long time. I want something more. I want to care about someone else more than myself. I want to see Suri be a mother.

I’m nervous about asking her parents for their blessing before I give her a ring, but she says they’ll love who she loves.

I’m wondering how true that really is, how her father will feel when he hears about my business, when I hear the gentle patter of sneakers on the ground.

I sit up a little straighter, ready to take anyone who might hurt Suri. I’m surprised when I see West.

I stand up, laughing softly.

“It’s the night before your wedding. What’re you doing, man? You nervous?”

He shakes his head and slows in front of me, jogging in place. “I want to see her. Tonight. But you’re not supposed to do that.”

I smirk a little, because West is wearing black gym shorts and a sweat-sticky white undershirt, and his blond hair is sticking up everywhere. I arch a brow. “You think she wouldn’t want to see you?”

“I don’t know,” he says. He scrubs his hand through his hair. “I’m still surprised she wants to marry my ass. Don’t want to fuck it up the night before.”

I swat at his shoulder. “Go see her, man. Give her a good fuck to get her ready for tomorrow.”

He punches me in the arm. “You’re talking about my wife, Radcliffe.”

“Almost.” I smile.

He looks at me suspiciously, as if my lighthearted mood is throwing him off. “Where’s Suri?”

“Asleep, inside.” I grin. I want so much to tell him that she’s carrying my child, that soon she’ll be living with me permanently, but this is his time. I don’t want to distract from him and Liz.

“Go see your wife, West.” I smack him on the back.

As I go back inside myself, clutching an unsmoked cigar but desperate to see Suri, I hear footsteps. I turn around, and no one’s there. Must be West, jogging off.

*

ELIZABETH

Hunter isn’t here tonight. He’s staying in one of the other cottages. I’m grumpy on the night before my own wedding, because I miss him. And I’m grumpy just because. Hormones and stuff.

When I think about tomorrow, I feel nervous and slightly unhappy. I think I would feel better if Hunter were here.

Today, all my closest friends and family flew into Vegas. Most of them aren’t staying here. I’m not seeing most of them until tomorrow, because that’s how I asked for things to be. This wedding is about Hunter and me, and anyone else who got an invite should feel lucky. My dad is in Vegas, and he came without his new family. That makes me pretty happy. Mom will be here in the morning, and so far, she hasn’t said one negative thing about me getting married here. Suri’s family is coming, and she said they’re excited for me. They don’t care that the wedding is here.

Another thing I love: Loveless and the other girls will all be here tomorrow. They’ve stayed away so we could prepare, but I can’t wait to see them.

I look at my ring. It’s so sparkly and pretty. I try to focus on that and how much I love Hunter.

His dad and sister surprised him and said they’re coming. I hope the day is great for him, too.

I get up and decide to do some yoga. I just can’t relax without him in the bed beside me.

I’m stretching when I hear a knock.

No one is there. I go back inside. Another knock. It’s a girl with very dark hair. She’s wearing ragged-looking, faded jeans and a red wife beater, and her long, black hair hangs down her shoulders, over her small bust.

I don’t want to be judgmental, but she doesn’t look like she belongs here. At all. She looks…dirty. And her eyes are a little wild.

“May I help you?” I ask. My heart pounds just a little. I tell myself it’s in reaction to my wedding anxiety.

“Do you need anything?” she asks, with a Spanish accent. Her face is smug. It doesn’t go with her words. “Do you need new linen? Housekeeing?”

She’s staring at me oddly.

“Linen? Right now?”

She nods once, her eyes still clinging to mine.

“No. I’m good.” I shut the door quickly and lean against it, feeling like I dodged a bullet, even though I’m bigger than her.

A few minutes later, there’s another knock. I go look through a window, but it’s not the girl.

I grab my cell phone and text Hunter.

‘That you, Mr. West?’

I get a text back
: ‘Want me to go?’

A delicious curl of anticipation twists through my belly.
‘No way.’

I rush to the door like a kid at Christmas and find myself staring at Hunter’s beautiful, broad back.

“Hi.” I grin, taking in his sexy, sweaty t-shirt and the workout pants that always emphasize his bulge. “You’ve got on running clothes? Should I be worried, Groomie?”

I’m joking, but his tone is low and almost pained. “I just miss you, Lib. I just wanted to tell you.” I see his hand come up and ruffle his sweaty hair, something he does more when he’s nervous.

I step onto the porch and throw both arms around him. “Oh my God, I miss you more. Come to bed with me, fiancé. I can’t sleep without you.”

He turns to face me, a relieved smile already spreading across his lips. “You sure?”

“Hell yes, I’m sure. The baby and I need you. We both miss you taking all our sheets and sprawling out across the whole entire bed.”

“The baby tell you this?”

“Um hmmm.” I rub his stiff erection through his shorts, and he leans down to kiss my neck.

I tug him through the door, and he raises his head, already panting a little. “Sex is off-limits for the virginal bride, isn’t it?” he says, teasingly.

I shake my head. “I’m not virginal. In fact, I sold myself to a terrible man. Keeps me on my back all the time, always getting sexed up. Getting prodded with his big, hard dick.”

I can see the lust storm I ignite in Hunter’s eyes, and I’m so glad I gave dirty talk a try. I love the way it gets to him.

As if to demonstrate, he lays me out on the floor, jerks my cotton shorts down, and climbs on top of me.

“You sure?” he asks one more time.

“Abso-freakin’-lutely. Show me what I’m getting when I marry you tomorrow.”

He shoves inside me. I groan.

“Happy wedding night, Libby. I love you.”