Bad Romeo Christmas: A Starcrossed Anthology (7 page)

She laughs. "Well, what you ate earlier was an especially bad version I made so I could see the look on your face. You don't think I knew how much you hated my cooking? Please. Your distaste was about as subtle as a gorilla with a hangover. So, for the past few weeks, whenever you thought I was going to yoga with Tristan, I was actually coming here and having cooking lessons with your mom. She taught me how to make the perfect green bean casserole over a week ago. I came around yesterday, and we made this one for tonight. Pretty yummy, right?"

I feel myself tensing as that information sinks in. "So, the one I tasted this afternoon was –"

"A decoy. As were all the others you've had to endure over the past week. I'd feel bad, but sweetie, your face as you tried to hide how bad they were? I mean, those were some Oscar-winning performances, right there."

Snickers echo around the table as heat runs up my neck. I can't figure out if I'm furious or more turned on than I've ever been in my life.

"You made me eat terrible food as a
joke
?" I put down my knife and fork and stare at her.

Whatever she sees on my face makes her smile fade. "Uh ... well, it seemed funny at the time. Now, not so much."

"Swapping sugar for salt?"

"Honest mistake." She leans away from me and lowers her voice. "The first time."

"And all the other times?"

She cringes. "Comedy gold?"

I turn to my mother, who's watching with amusement. "And you," I say. "You were in on this? You swapped out her horror casserole just to mess with me?"

Mom gives me a warm smile. "Oh, sweetie, it was just a bit of harmless fun."

"Harmless?" I say, my voice rising. "Did
you
eat any of her food?"

She screws up her face. "Oh, God, no. The smell alone made my stomach scream and run for cover."

My dad stands to refill our wine glasses. "Should I have any idea what's going on right now?"

"Just torturing, Ethan, honey," Mom says. "You know, for giggles."

I run my fingers through my hair and exhale. Evil goddamn women. If they continue to gang up on me when we're married, I'm in for a world of hurt.

"Wait a minute," Elissa says, staring warily at her plate. "Cassie cooked the beans?" She looks at me in panic. "Why the hell didn't you warn me? Do you want me to die? Because I've eaten her cooking before. It could happen."

Cassie's mouth drops open. "Hey! Not cool. Not untrue but not cool."

"Babe," Elissa says, "you know I love you, but in college you served me chicken that was black on the outside and raw on the inside. I'm lucky I didn't end up in the emergency room. I'm just saying that your food should come with a warning label. Like,
Consume at your own risk
, or
Stomach hazard ahead
. Informed choices and all that."

"Well, technically," Cassie says, "it doesn't need a label, because your mom cooked most of it. She made all the individual parts, and then I mixed them together. Maggie says that mixing is one of my strongest culinary talents. That and opening packages."

"You're amazing at that," Mom adds in her usual helpful way.

Cassie smiles. "Look, I know I'll never be a great chef, but at least I'm trying, right? And even if I didn't
technically
cook the beans, I still get credit for the joke."

Josh piles more beans onto his plate. "Well, I don't care if the Flying Spaghetti Monster cooked these. They're my life now, so if you could all keep it down, we'd like some alone time."

···

After a few more minutes of dinner conversation, The Great Green Bean Casserole Sting has been forgotten, and we're all back to enjoying the feast.

As Mom and Dad talk with Elissa and Josh about their new show, Cassie puts her hand on my thigh and leans over.

"Sooooo." She gives me a nervous smile. "On a scale of one to the Red Room of Pain, how much do you want to punish me right now?"

I take a sip of wine. "Oh, you broke the scale, lady. It's a tangled mess on the floor."

Her fingers tighten on my thigh before traveling closer to my crotch. "But it wasn't all bad, was it? I mean, I made up for all of the horrible food by rewarding you with ..." Her hand moves higher. "You know ...
dessert
. Right?"

I'm flooded with memories of her spread open in front of me, her sweetness on my tongue. I clear my throat as ninety percent of the blood in my body rushes to my cock. "So, are you saying that if you hadn't tricked me into eating Satan's leftovers, you wouldn't have given me ... dessert?" I raise my eyebrow. "Seems to me that would have been foolish, considering you got just as much out of those
dining
sessions as I did. If not more."

She stares at my mouth and licks her lips. "Well, yes, you are very good at dining. Like, crazy good. If you ever failed as an actor, you could become a professional diner. Which leads me to ask, are you planning on having dessert later?"

Before I can answer, my mother chimes in. "Really, Cassie, you have to ask? Have you met my son? He eats dessert every chance he gets. If he could get away with it, he'd have it three meals a day for the rest of his life. The boy is insatiable."

Cassie blushes and smiles to herself. "I've noticed." When Mom goes back to her Elissa discussion, Cassie whispers, "And that's why your son is the hottest man on the planet."

Her fingers are now dangerously close to the painful hardness in my crotch, and it's all I can do to stop myself from grabbing her hand and pressing it against me. I clench my jaw while trying to think of something else. Anything but how incredible it would feel right now to tear off her panties and slide myself inside her tight, warm –"

"Earth to Ethan."

"Huh?" I look over to see Elissa staring at me.

"I asked if you and Cassie have had a chance to look at that list of reception venues I sent. If we want to lock down a good place, we'll have to book ASAP. Most of them are snapped up twelve months in advance."

I wipe my mouth with my napkin, in case of accidental drool, and shift in my chair. "Ah, yeah. We've seen a few. We like The Roof Garden the best so far. Spectacular views, and the menu seems great."

"Cool. Well, let me know as soon as you've decided, and I'll adjust my to-do list."

I almost laugh. I've seen her to-do list. It's a three-ring binder as thick as a telephone book, with more color-coded tabs than I care to count. Knowing Elissa, this will be the most efficiently managed wedding in the history of ever.

We chat more about the wedding as we finish our dinner, and even though Mom keeps it together, I notice her go quiet and blink a lot. I'm not surprised. This is a woman who bawls her eyes out watching the finale of
The Bachelor
, for God's sake. I can only imagine how intense her reaction will be when she witnesses her first-born marrying his one true love. Maybe I should warn St. Patrick's to have some life preservers on hand in case her tears flood the church.

"Everyone had enough to eat?" she asks as she swipes her cheeks with her napkin. "There's plenty of turkey left if you want seconds."

Josh leans back in his chair and rubs his stomach. "Maggie, if I eat one more mouthful, you'll be finding pieces of me all over the dining room. But thanks for an awesome meal. Your daughter hasn't cooked for me in weeks."

"I cooked for you last night," Elissa says. "You licked your plate and made a crack about not having to wash up, remember? Then I punched you in the arm for being gross and made you wash up."

"Oh, yeah," Josh says. "How could I forget such a sexually charged exchange?" He whispers to Dad, "It's kind of embarrassing how much she wants me, right? It must make you uncomfortable to have her flirt so brazenly right under your nose."

Dad claps him on the shoulder. "I'm mortified. Now, who wants some more wine before we tackle dessert?" Everyone puts up their hands. Thank God we all took cabs.

My phone buzzes with a text. I ignore it. Then it buzzes a second time, and a third.

With a sigh, I grab my phone and subtly check it beneath the table.

There was another message, followed by a picture.

Jesus.

I take my time to tap out a long and extensive reply, and when I look up, I notice Cassie's frowning at me.

"Marco again?"

"Uh ... yeah. He gets so needy at this time of year."

She nods and goes back to the conversation, but I can see she's tense. She suspects something.

I make a mental note to level with her as soon as we get home. It's only a matter of time before she sees right through me anyway. I guess I'll have to 'fess up and face the music, even if it's something she doesn't want to hear.

Cassie

Over and over, Ethan runs
his fingers up into my hair, then down to where the back of my dress sits between my shoulder blades. His touch always makes me instantly aroused, but tonight my mind can't shake this feeling of unease. Ever since our run-in with Vanessa, he's been off. Then there was that phone call he doesn't know I overheard.
"Can I see you this week
?" And now he's texting someone he's pretending is Marco, when I know damn well Marco can't stand texting.

So that leads me to believe there's something going on with Vanessa, and the thought of him having any communication with that hell beast drives me insane. Is he making plans with her? And if so, I hope he has a valid funeral plan, because I'm going to freaking kill him.

I can feel my blood pressure increasing, and I realize I have to stop. I'm making a lot of assumptions with zero facts, and that's never worked out well for us in the past.

I need to get to the bottom of this, and fast.

I lean over and whisper, "Just so you know, I'm semi-drunk and horny as hell, so you can either drag me upstairs and take care of this problem, or I'll have to resort to self-service in the bathroom."

As expected, those words snap his last ounce of restraint, and with a low growl, he pulls me to my feet.

"Uh, Cassie and I will be back in a minute." He guides me out of my chair. "She wants to see some old pics of Quinn as Romeo and me as Mercutio. Back in five. Ten at the most."

"No problem," his mom says as she starts to clear the table. "I'll have dessert ready when you get back. Come on guys. All of this can be cleared."

Everyone joins her in carrying plates and platters into the kitchen as Ethan takes off and practically drags me upstairs to his room. If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's that whenever sex is on the line, Ethan is sure to show glimpses of why he was a track champion in high school.

As soon as we're inside his room, he shuts the door and pushes me up against it.

"I've been waiting for this all night."

He leans in to kiss me, but I put my hands on his chest to stop him.

"Ethan, wait. We need to talk."

He looks disappointed. "I thought you brought me up here to treat me like a sexual object. Were you deceiving me, Cassandra Marie Taylor? Because that's not the least bit cool."

"Well, I think that's hypocritical from the man who's been keeping important facts from me."

Now he looks confused.

"I need you to tell me about your lunch with Vanessa."

"You said you didn't want to hear about that."

"I know, but it turns out, I do. The thought of her alone with you drives me crazy, and even though I've been trying to put it out of my mind and move on, I can't." My voice is rising in pitch, even though I'm trying to stay calm.

"Cassie, it's fine. I'll tell you everything, okay? Is that why you're upset?"

I look down at my hands on his chest. "I overhead your phone call to her the morning after we ran into her. Jesus, Ethan. You couldn't even wait twenty-four hours to suggest meeting up? Is she who you've been texting all night? Because I know it's not Marco. And trust me when I say that if a single lie comes out of your mouth right now, I'm going to beat the crap out of you with your mother's baby Jesus candlesticks."

All of a sudden, my pulse is racing, and I can't get enough air. Then I'm gripping the front of his shirt so tightly, my knuckles are white.

Dammit. I wanted to stay calm and discuss this like an adult, but even thinking him hurting me again brings me to the verge of a panic attack.

Ethan pushes my hair away from my face and strokes my cheek. "Cassie, just breathe. Nothing bad is happening, I promise. I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Ethan ..." My voice shakes. "If you're leaving me to go back to her, just tell me. I can deal with it. I'm a big girl
."

Of course I'm lying. If he leaves me again, I'll never recover.

"Cassie." He pulls back and looks me in the eye. "I'm not leaving you. Ever. Take some deep breaths."

I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. Each exhale calms me a little more. When I'm almost back to normal, I look up at Ethan and shake my head.

"Ethan, I –"

He bends down and gives me a soft, deep kiss that calms me even more. He understands how it feels to have your brain continually whisper the worst possible scenario, so he knows how to handle it.

When he pulls back from the kiss, there's still tension in my muscles, but at least I'm no longer shaking.

"I love you," he tells me, quietly. "I'm counting down the days until I become your husband. Why the hell would you think I'm leaving you?"

"That phone call. The morning after we saw Vanessa. I'm sorry I eavesdropped. That was wrong, but I –"

"That call was to Dr. Kate. I called to tell her about what happened and how it affected me. I know you don't like me bothering her out of office hours, but I thought running into the woman who destroyed me was important enough to break that rule. Vanessa was a huge part of my therapy sessions, so Kate knows how much crap I went through to get to the other side. She suggested we should schedule some time together since she hadn't seen me for a few months. That's who I was arranging to meet."