Bury the Hatchet (8 page)

She’d said up front that maybe I wouldn’t have to be celibate the whole time we were together, but I wasn’t sure she meant it or had thought through the implications of what she’d hinted at, and I was less sure it was a good idea. For either of us. The further we took things once we were alone, the greater the likelihood that one of the two of us—if not both—would end up getting our feelings hurt in the end. It would be a hell of a lot safer to just keep our hands to ourselves, like Mrs. Roth insisted upon, other than in those moments when we were playing things up for the media.

And finally, despite the fact that I’d insisted that Lance had no place in our marriage, I couldn’t seem to get rid of the jackass. He was overseeing every aspect of the wedding, presiding over things like he was the goddamned king or something, and butting in where he needed to butt out.
Once we’re married, it’ll be different
, Tallie kept telling me. She insisted that he wouldn’t be involved at that point, but a wedding wasn’t a marriage, and it seemed as though she had no say in things where that was concerned.

I wanted her to put her foot down, to stand up for herself, but that seemed to be more and more unlikely.

Today was Friday. The wedding was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, and my parents were flying in early this evening. My brother, Kade, was supposed to be staying wherever the hell he was these days. I hadn’t asked, and Mom hadn’t offered to tell me. I’d made her swear that she wasn’t going to say a word to him about any of this, that he could find out later once the wedding was over, the camera crews were gone, and he couldn’t cause any problems. He might resent me for keeping him in the dark. Lord knew it wasn’t the first thing he would resent me for, and I doubted it would be the last, but I didn’t need him here getting high and falling into the fucking wedding cake while a hundred cameras caught the whole thing. For some reason, I doubted that would go over well with any of the Thunderbirds executives, let alone all of Tallie’s people.

Kade
was supposed to stay put, but
Carrie
might be coming. She’d said she would think about it when I’d called, and I knew it was a huge imposition for her because it wasn’t just herself she had to sort out. She had Kaylee to worry about, too, and Kaylee was a hell of a lot more important than my fake marriage. I had a feeling Mom was “helping”
Carrie come up with ways to put an end to this wedding before it ever happened.

No matter how many times I chewed it over, I couldn’t make up my mind whether it would be better for Carrie to stay home or come. She wanted to support me as a friend, but how would it go over with Tallie’s family, particularly if they figured out what sort of relationship Carrie and I had always had? How would I explain Kaylee? And what would Tallie think, herself? I couldn’t worry about that until and if it became an issue, though, but there wasn’t a chance in hell I would get married and not invite Carrie. She’d been my friend through everything, more of a friend than my brother had ever been. Yeah, we fucked sometimes. We were still just friends. It worked for us even if no one else understood it and our mothers wanted there to be more.

Whether Carrie came to Tulsa or not, I still had a shitload of things to do before anyone arrived this evening, not the least of which was pick Tallie up at her parents’ house so we could finalize paperwork on my new house. For a couple of reasons, I’d included her in the whole process even though it was technically going to be my house. It got us out and about so we could spend time together, get to know each other, and potentially be seen by people who supposedly mattered, and it got her away from Lance and her mother.

When I arrived at the Roths’ house, their frazzled housekeeper showed me into their audacious family room that looked like it had popped straight out of
Southern Living
magazine, where Tallie was standing on a pedestal. She was wearing a gauzy white thing while half a dozen people poked at it with needle and thread.

The bodice fit her like a glove, in lace that I could practically see through, and they were sewing hundreds or thousands of glittery beads on it. It was cut so low I could almost see her belly button. The skirt was made of some light-as-air fabric that would easily fall to the floor even if she wore five-inch heels, and it had a slit in front high enough that it almost revealed her pussy. She was gorgeous in it, but I had a hard time imagining she could look anything less than gorgeous in anything. My only problem with it was I had a feeling this was what Lance wanted to send her down the aisle wearing when, in my opinion, something like that shouldn’t ever leave the confines of her bedroom. It was a hell of a lot better suited to a wedding night than a wedding. Granted, I didn’t think the two of us would be having a traditional wedding night.

Even now, Lance was marching around the circle of seamstresses and barking out orders. “I think we need to go a little lower here,” he said, pointing to the dip in the bodice.

If it went any lower, it might as well be completely open in the front, showing off everything for the world to see. Tallie put a hand over the vee, as though to cover herself, and shook her head slightly. I couldn’t agree with her more, but Lance either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“About another inch,” he told the woman who seemed to be in charge of the beading. “And more sparkle up on her shoulders. The lighting is going to be amazing, but we want Tallulah to shine even more than she already does.”

None of them had noticed my presence, so I cleared my throat. Lance whipped his head around to glare at me, and Tallie looked up, covering herself even more.

“You’re not supposed to see the dress until the wedding,” Lance groused.

I chose to ignore that bit of superstition, focusing instead on what seemed to be the bigger issue at hand. “Is that what you call that thing? A dress? Looks more like lingerie.” Lingerie that I could easily imagine myself taking off her, an inch at a time. Damn, but I needed to stop thinking along those lines.

“Then it’s a good thing we won’t be listening to you for advice on how to dress Tallulah Belle,” he shot back. “Uppity Neanderthal,” he muttered loud enough for me to hear.

My blood was boiling, and this was only the first time today I’d had to deal with him. It wouldn’t be my last, though, since my final fitting for my tux was this afternoon before my parents arrived and we held the rehearsal dinner. If he survived the day, it would be a miracle.

Pointedly ignoring him, I looked at Tallie. “Is this what you want?” I asked her. She might not think she could voice her opinions. I wanted her to know that she could. That it was all right for her to make a decision and tell him to stick it where the sun didn’t shine. I wanted her to stand up for herself.

Lance rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter what—”

“If you dare finish uttering those words, they might be your last,” I interrupted him, putting the full force of my displeasure into my glare. Between him and Mrs. Roth, there was no wonder Tallie seemed to always comply. It had to end. “It does matter what Tallie wants. She’s the one who’s fucking getting married. It’s her wedding. Her dress. Not yours, so you’d just better back the fuck off unless you want me to put that thing on you and cut the slit up high enough that your limp dick flaps.”

That was probably taking it too far.

“Well, I never…” Lance muttered, looking thoroughly scandalized.

There were several audible gasps coming from throughout the room, and a glance at Tallie revealed she was either blushing in deep embarrassment or attempting to prevent herself from bursting out laughing. I couldn’t be sure which it was. I shouldn’t have said that. I should have just bitten my tongue about the damn dress and gone about my business, but the more I was around this imbecile, the less I seemed capable of doing what I should. But it was too late to take my words back—something that was becoming a habit, it seemed—and I honestly didn’t want to. Someone needed to put this asshole in his place, and no one else was stepping up to the plate, not Tallie and not even her father. I supposed that left it for me.

I met Tallie’s gaze again, ignoring Lance’s outrage. “Is this what you want?” I repeated more forcefully.

She smoothed her hands over her sides, the fabric ruffling from her light touch. Then one hand slid upward to the deep vee between her insanely perfect breasts as she glanced down. “I think its fine as it is,” she finally said. “We’re getting married in a church, after all. I don’t want it to be too revealing. Maybe a bit more beadwork, but there’s no reason to cut it any lower.”

The corners of my lips twitched. She’d made a decision, but it seemed to me that she was just attempting to appease everyone involved, to find middle ground that didn’t offend anyone too much. I wasn’t sold on that being the decision she would have made if she thought it were
truly
up to her. Still, she’d made the call. In my opinion, that was that. Time to move on.

“All right, you heard her,” I said to all the workers hovering around her with needles in hand. “More beads, but leave the cut how it is. Now”—I met her eyes again—“we have an appointment with my realtor and the bank. Why don’t you go put something else on and leave them to it? Unless you’d rather stay here for more of this.”

She nodded. “I can be ready in ten minutes.” Then she stepped down from the pedestal, acquiescing again. This time it was me she was going along with, but I couldn’t say I liked it any better. In fact, I might like it less.

“Well, I never,” Lance repeated with an indignant huff.

“Yeah,” I said. “We know.” I placed my hand on Tallie’s waist and guided her out to the foyer. “I’ll be here when you’re ready,” I said quietly to her when we reached the ornate staircase. She nodded and went up, holding the fabric of her dress out of her way with practiced ease. Then I made my way back to the family room.

The seamstresses were packing up their things, which included boxes and boxes of those beads. I wouldn’t be surprised to find every single one of them sewn to the dress by tomorrow afternoon.

I found an armchair near the hearth that looked like it
might
be sturdy enough to support me, all the while wondering why in hell anyone would think they needed a fireplace around here, with Lance eyeing me the whole time.

Slinky as a cat, he came over and took one of the seats across from me, crossing one leg over the other and lacing the fingers of both hands together, pulling back over the higher knee. “While I’ve got your full attention,” he said.

I scowled and raised a brow.

“There’s no call for you to be so surly,” he complained.

There was every reason for me to be surly. “Just get on with it. What the hell do you think you need to talk to me about?”

“One of the networks came to me and offered Tallulah a reality show—the same ones who will be filming and producing your wedding.”

I still wasn’t happy about that, but at this point it was out of my hands. “What did she have to say about it?”

He blinked. “I haven’t mentioned it to her yet because they want it to follow both of you.”

“No.”

“Now hear me out—”

“No,” I repeated more emphatically. “If they’re going to follow me during the season, they’d have to get permission from both the Thunderbirds and the league. Not only would I have to consent, which is not going to happen in this lifetime, but any of my teammates or opponents who would be included would have to give their permission, too. It’s not going to happen.”

He huffed again. “They’re willing to keep the focus entirely on Tallulah, of course, but you’d have to agree—”

“I’m not agreeing to shit, and frankly I’d be surprised if Tallie agrees to do this, either.”

“Oh.” He waved a hand through the air, as if my objections were nothing more than an annoying fly. “She’ll agree to whatever I tell her to do.”

“What am I agreeing to?” Tallie asked as she breezed through the door carrying the dress in one hand and her bag in the other.

“Not a goddamned thing that this asshole wants, that’s for sure,” I said, coming to my feet. I crossed over to her, took the dress, tossed it to one of the seamstresses, and offered her my hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before I lose my cool and do what I’ve been dreaming of since I first met him.” Because Lance could really stand to have a few less teeth, and I thought he might look better with his nose in a different place.