Courage (Mark of Nexus) (27 page)

In hindsight, showing up on a man's porch unannounced, and then asking to marry his daughter was pretty stupid.

I realized that after I’d stared down the barrel of Glen's shotgun—though, things weren't exactly that abrupt. Judy had answered the door, thrilled to see me, and had invited me to have a seat in their living room. She’d yelled for Glen, who—just my luck—had the afternoon off, and he’d brought his gun. Apparently, he thought it was a good time to clean it.

In and out, he rammed that wire snake through the barrel, eyeing me like I’d shown up to steal their valuables. “Her name’s Loretta.”

“Oh?”

Silence.

At least the trip to see Cole had been easier. I had dropped by his office, pulled him out into the parking lot, and tried to explain the mess of reasoning in my head. Not that he’d needed it. My brother had hugged me, cracked a joke about the honeymoon, and sauntered off. Like he'd been expecting the conversation to pop up anytime now.

“So, d'you come to sit in my house and stare at me, or what?” Glen quirked an eyebrow in my direction as he worked. “I know I'm good lookin', but this is gonna get real awkward, real quick.”

I guess that’s my cue.

I had worked out my speech in the truck on the way there. Using the whole “living in sin” angle as a starting point, I explained that I wanted to keep Rena's and my relationship as honest as possible. I said we were serious. I even busted out the no-sex-until-marriage thing as my finale. Then I went for it. “So, I guess what I’m asking for is your blessing…”

Judy squealed, bouncing beside me on the couch, but Glen's face turned an unsettling shade of red.

“Sir?”

His eye twitched. “D'you knock up my baby girl?”

“What? No. I just said—”

“Is she pregnant?”

“Glen,” Judy cut in, shooting him a look. “She's not pregnant.”

“Then why are you trying to marry her four months after meeting her?” His hands stilled, and he frowned. “That ain't right.”

“We wouldn't get married just yet,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Probably closer to graduation. I just thought—”

“D'you already buy a ring?” Glen eyed me. “I bet you did. Going through the motions of actin' like you care about my blessing…”

“Glen!” Judy's nostrils flared, and it didn't take empathy to catch the meaning there. “You should be impressed he came at all.”

I liked Rena's mother.

“Actually,” I cut in. “I'm still saving up. I was thinking about giving her my dad's watch to hold on to until I can buy a ring.”

Glen resumed his cleaning. “What's the rush?”

“No rush. I just know how I feel, and that's not going to change. I love your daughter more than anything.”

“And you're going to give her some secondhand watch as a token of this love?”

“Like I
said
, it was my father's.” My jaw tensed in barely restrained irritation. Who the hell was this guy to act like my dad's watch didn't mean anything? It was more than just—

“Was?” Glen's gaze softened in slow understanding. “Your dad's not around?”

“No, sir. Both of my parents were killed when I was eight.”

More silence, but I noticed his guilt slip in between us.

“I'm…” He set Loretta aside and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It was a long time ago.” I kept my face carefully blank. “But I think you understand now what this watch means to me and why I want to share that with your daughter. She deserves that much.”

The corner of his mouth quirked. “Yeah, she's a good kid.”

“Wallace is a good kid, too,” Judy offered with a hopeful smile. “Much better than the other boys she's dated. Rob, Harry, and Spike…”

“Spike?” I blinked.

“Don't ask.”

Glen stood up and extended his arm. “Well, I won't keep ya. I know you kids have a dance tonight.”

I followed suit, unsure if he was kicking me out or not, and carefully accepted his handshake. “Uh, thanks.”

“I can't guarantee what she'll say, you know. She's a wildcard like her mother. But I guess it'd be all right to try.” He tightened his grip and looked away, put off by his own words. “I s'pose you know what I'm going to say next.”

Like hell I did. I didn't even expect that.

“You hurt her, and you'll earn your column in the obituaries. And I expect you to get a good job after graduation. No son-in-law of mine's gonna sit on his ass all day, playing video games or whatever you kids do now. You man up and provide for your family.”

The room swayed, and I let my jaw drop. “Y-yes. I mean, I'd never hurt her, and I'll definitely get a good job. Thank you, sir.”

“Glen,” he said, fixing me with a hard gaze.

“Glen,” I repeated, still in shock.

He wrenched his hand back and shook it a few times. “If nothin' else, you got a grip on ya, kid. Ever done hard labor?”

“Some.”

“That's good.” He nodded. “Good for a man to work with his hands.”

“Yeah.”

Something slammed into my side, and I looked down to find Judy squeezing my waist. “Oh, I can't wait to hear the story. She's gonna be so happy. And then we can plan the wedding. My goodness. With all these magazines Brittani has lying around, we're already in great shape!”

Wedding…

Funny, with all this talk of marriage, that little detail had escaped my mind. Would Rena want a small wedding or a big one? How much would that cost? I couldn't see her as one of those brides in a big poufy dress, but who knew. And then we'd have to pay for a honeymoon.

A long honeymoon…

I swallowed and forced myself to concentrate on something else, before the sudden siege of images gave my thoughts away. The last thing I needed was a boner in front of Rena's parents. “I'm really glad to have your support. Both of you.”

Glen snorted and made his way to the kitchen. “Yeah, well, our support ain't gonna mean jack if she turns you down.”

“Right.”

Judy pulled away and grinned. “She won't turn you down.”

“I hope not,” I said, backing toward the door. “But I guess we'll find out tonight.” 

“Ow!” I yelled, as the steaming hot barrel of a curling iron burned my neck. “How the hell do you do your own hair?”

Gabby clicked her tongue and made a face in the mirror. “It’s different.”

“It must be.” I flinched as she released a glossy blonde ringlet and sprayed the crap out of it. “Easy, killer.”

She switched out both tools for more bobby pins. “Hey, unless you want stabbed again, I suggest you chill with those complaints.”

I kept my mouth shut and sank down in my seat. Friday had rolled around too fast, and now we were scrambling to get ready for the dance. I didn't even know why, really. No one was in the mood.

Aiden had gone from being a weird, oddly explosive version of himself to a full-on jackass. Gabby said that was common with brain injury, but it freaked me out. It was as if our sweet little pumpkin had had his insides scooped out, and now we were left with a leering jack-o-lantern. I hated it.

But it was nice having Gabby in the loop. We’d stayed up a few nights this week discussing things, and when she wasn't freaking out, the girl was pretty damn insightful. I never realized.

She crammed a few more pins in and stepped back to admire her masterpiece. “See? I told you it’d look better up.”

I grabbed the handheld mirror and turned around to study the back.
Huh.
The twist was sexy and sophisticated, but the curls were freakin’ fun. If you ignored the burn marks on my neck, I didn’t look half bad.

“You like?” she asked, plucking the mirror from my hands.

“Actually…yes.” I stood up and shed my bathrobe before uttering the words I knew she'd been waiting to hear. “You were right. Thank you.”

She cackled as she began jerking plugs out of the wall. “Damn straight. Poor little Aiden won’t know what to do with you—not that he's our little Aiden, anymore.”

“Gabby…”

Her hands flew in front of her face. “Nope. Fine. Not going to think about it.”

She did have a point. Back when I’d bought this dress, I’d been counting on a magical night with Wallace. The material was teal with a black lace overlay, and it flared from the waist to mid-thigh. A thick halter strap held my girls up, but I didn’t know whether to stare at them or the glowing tat on my arm.

I’d asked Gabby about it, but she didn’t see colors racing over the lines. In fact, she asked if I’d sprayed perfume in my eyes again. Apparently, the spectrum was invisible to humans.

Humans.
Heh. It still sounded weird.

“You ready?” I asked, hiking my skirt up to stick my ID in the garter pouch I’d bought online. It was a hell of a lot handier than carting around a clutch.

She spun around, fanning the skirt of her strapless party dress. Her hair lay styled in soft, sleek waves, and she'd pinned one side back with an orange flower. Between her perma-tan and the artsy make-up she'd painted on, the whole ensemble looked strikingly exotic—and not even remotely pregnant. Yet. “I was born ready,” she announced.

I nearly snorted. “No arguments there.”

We made our way downstairs and found the guys in the lobby.

Aiden sucked in a reverent breath, and for a second, he almost seemed like himself. “You look…damn.”

There it is.

“Thank you.” I forced a smile. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He offered a stiff arm, one that should've been shaky and drenched in sweat. “Shall we?”

I threw Gabby a look before taking it. “Sure.”

And thus began the weirdest procession ever. As we walked from Reid to the Union, we saw everything from tuxedo t-shirts to ball gowns. Drunks groping each other and an odd assortment of beach balls. Yeah, welcome to Wilcox College.

Once inside, we lost Gabby and Jinx in the shuffle, but I didn't expect them to hover. The music pounded so loudly, I felt every beat reverberate throughout my body as we made our way through the crowd. Silhouettes ground against each other, multi-colored light pulsed overhead, and the whole room reeked of sweat and alcohol.

Seriously, it wasn’t even ten yet, and the place was hoppin’. I bit back a grin.
Score one for medical research.

Aiden led me to the least inhabited corner and gave an awkward smile. “So,” he yelled, leaning in. “You want to dance or what?”

“Sure,” I shouted back.

He grabbed my waist and jerked my body against him, mouthing something I couldn’t quite make out.

I smiled and bobbed my head to the music, hoping he wouldn't question me any further. Though strappy and gorgeous, my devil shoes had started rubbing a blister five minutes ago, and I was not in the mood for conversation. If this kept up, I’d be lucky to walk out of here at the end of the night.

Speaking of which…

My gaze swept the room with casual interest. Was Wallace here? It was hard to distinguish anyone from the mass of bodies rubbing against each other in the middle of the dance floor, but I had a feeling I could find him anywhere. Tall, dark…not human.

“—un, right?” Aiden yelled over the speakers.

I turned around. “Huh?”

“You're having fun, right?”

Darn that boy and his infectious smile. Even after everything he'd been through, it was still there. “Yes, Aiden.” I grinned back. “I'm having fun.”

Forty minutes, eight photos, and a round of mingling later, the DJ finally played a slow song. The lights eased into a soft spiral, and Aiden's grip on my hips tightened, all creepy and possessive-like.

Thankfully, Gabby chose that moment to break through the crowd, dragging some girl along by the hand. “Hey, hey,” she called, waving. “How’s it going over here? You two crazy kids behaving?”

“Some of us.” I darted my gaze off to the side and back, lifting my brows.

Her non-date snickered, but I didn't blame her. She didn't understand the situation.

Gabby shot me a sympathetic look as the two of them wrapped their arms around each other and began to sway. It was great to see her getting along with someone—especially when that someone wasn't Maverick—but I knew she had to be exhausted. Her catnaps had become more and more frequent lately, and this was the longest I’d seen her on her feet.
Poor thing.

My gaze drifted past them, wandering the darkened ballroom. The place was still packed, probably over capacity, but no one seemed to mind. They were all too busy trying to cop a feel, ignoring the salty aroma of sweat-slickened bodies.
Blech
.

And then there was
this
little arrangement. If Aiden pressed any closer, he'd be wearing my dress. Normally, I'd say something, but we were trying to keep him calm—at least, until we figured out a way to get him back to normal. The last thing we needed was one of his episodes right now.

The music sped back up, and my body reacted on autopilot. Sure, I was twisting and grinding, but my eyes found the door again. Wallace and Corynn had just swept in with a swell of people.

A sparkly blue dress hugged her athletic frame and glinted every time she moved. Honestly, I was a little disappointed. Didn’t they wear big goofy hats in England? I was all set to see a goofy hat.

Beside her, Wallace was already rolling up the sleeves of his button-up. His tie would be next to go. For whatever reason, his blood ran hot. Stuck in a place like this, he’d burn up in no time. Not to mention the crowd.

He hates events like this. In fact, if I knew Wallace, he’d probably stake out a spot with his back to the wall and a clear view of the door. No one would gain the upper hand on him tonight. The man was vigilant and ready.

God only knew where Cole was. He’d called this morning, claiming he’d keep an eye on things—whatever that meant. I shuddered to think.

“What?” Aiden leaned in. “Did your dickhead ex finally show up?”

“Aiden…”

He just laughed, colored lights streaking over his ruddy complexion. “Relax.”

“Right.” I tugged at the top of my dress, trying to cool down. “Hey, it's pretty toasty in here. Mind if I step out a moment?”

He gave me a long, hard look. “Where are you going?”

“Out,” I repeated. “I need some air.”

“I'll come with you.”

“No, no.” I put my hands up between us, taking a step back. “I'll just be a few. I want to touch up my make-up on the way back.”

Beats pounded between us as he evaluated my story. “All right, well, whatever. I'll be here.”

And away I flew. Okay, stumbled. The heels were hard to run in.

I made my way down to the lobby and pushed one of the heavy, glass-paned doors open. The wind rushed over my skin, as unseasonably cool as it’d been for the past month, and left a trail of goose bumps. Only a handful of people hung around the rear courtyard, and most of them were couples. They sat on benches or wandered through the garden, their eyes fixated on the storm brewing overhead.

“Waiting for someone?” a baritone voice asked overhead, so close the hairs stood up on the back of my neck.

“That depends.” I turned around slowly. “How do you feel about math?”