He really does. But I’m still not getting married in what amounts to dirty pajamas.
“I appreciate the compliment, Zeb. But I at least needcleanclothing.”
“Zayna said she would get a few things. She’ll think of a dress.”
I feel slightly better that Zayna will be helping out, but I’m not thrilled at the idea of this forced marriage. Even if I love Zeb…
“You still worried?” he interrupts my train of thought. I nod.
“It’s a whole life together, Janelle. Whatever you worry about will still be there once we tie the knot. And I’ll be with you to handle it.”
I want so badly to believe him. But it’s still happening so fast. We just reunited after a messy separation where I ran away from Zeb and had a crash out road trip with Rana that barely took us out of Oklahoma. I doubt marriage will fix things between us.
And if it doesn’t, what happens next?
Chapter Thirty-Three
Zeb
Zayna did her best to make their large family dining room a good venue for a wedding. She set out chairs, hung up lights, and arranged a pair of speakers so we could have a little bit of music. I’m upstairs with Ruger, my best man, while Janelle reunites with Rana, her maid-of-honor in the basement. I’m paranoid that Rana will talk her out of it, but Zayna says I’m not allowed to see her before the music starts or I’ll curse the whole thing.
“Did you tell her about the tattoo?” Zayna asks, striding over to me with Eden on her hip and a sassy ass look on her face. Ruger would let her slap me. I know it.
“Why would I tell her? Adrenaline will only make it hurt more.”
“She’s going to be perfectly calm when you start shoving a needle into her lower back.”
I grin. “Yes. Her lower back.”
“Don’t be gross, Zeb.”
“I’m putting my name right on her butt cheeks.”
Eden is old enough to laugh at the phrase “butt cheeks”, but I almost earn a slap from Zayna, who I can see scouting my face for a good place to land her palm.
“The only reason I’m not boxing your ear out is because it’s your wedding day,” she says. “Ruger says that you actually love her and he has proof.”
What proof is that?I keep my mouth shut about that part.
“I love her.”
“Good,” Zayna says. “If you so much as lay a finger on her or raise your voice in anger, I will hunt you down in Boston and circumcise you with a butter knife.”
“I’m already–”
“I’ll find some new foreskin to cut off. Don’t try me.”
I look at Ruger, who is white in the face. Great. Doesn’t help that he’s more afraid of her than even I am. She must have the capacity for that kind of thing.
“You can threaten my foreskin, but I can’t talk about butt cheeks?”
Eden giggles again. Zayna glares. “Be good, Zeb.”
“I will. I swear it.”
“Will you get the ladies upstairs?” Ruger asks. “Worried you might kill the groom before we’re done here.”
She hands Eden to Deacon Hollingsworth, who instantly starts playing peekaboo with her so Eden doesn’t start wailing like she normally does when forced to leave Zayna’s side. I hear shuffling, more women’s voices downstairs and then the makeshift bridal party emerges into Zayna’s shockingly beautifully decorated living room.
