And now he was sitting here at the kitchen table with a bag of veggies on his balls trying to figure out just what the fuck he’d done to deserve this.
“Oh, Liam, Taran, don’t forget to get me your tuxes so I can steam them,” Loretta said as she placed the last of the food on the table. “Becks, baby, what’s on your schedule for today?”
Becks didn’t move towards the table as Libby did. Instead, she headed over to the fridge and started pulling out what looked like the ingredients for a rabbit’s breakfast. Spinach, kale, carrots, broccoli, and a lemon. She also grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter.
“Libs and I are heading over to the florist’s to pick up the order after her run.” As Libby, Loretta, and Ranger dug into the meal Loretta prepared, Becks started chopping up her rabbit’s food and adding it into a blender. Ghost’s eyes narrowed. What the fuck was she doing? “Valerie wants to have another meeting with me and Ritchie, but he’s at work until tomorrow afternoon, so it’ll have to be a Zoom call?—”
“Who’s Valerie?” Ranger interrupted.
“My wedding planner,” Becks answered. She cut the lemon in two and then squeezed the juices into the blender too. Then she placed the half of the apple she didn’t put in the blender into a glass container with the squeezed lemon halves before placing a lid on it. “The church has their own wedding coordinator, but Ritchie wants things a certain way and Valerie is trying to make that happen.”
“Well, hopefully they can find a compromise,” Loretta said as she placed a large plate of food in front of Ghost. Did she think he wasn’t eating because his hands were full of peas and a steak? “I’m headed to the bridal shop to get our dresses at three. Liam,baby, do you mind going into town and getting the rental tuxes for Ritchie and his party?”
“We brought our hogs, Ma,” Ranger reminded her.
“I’ll be out with Libby in her car,” Becks threw over her shoulder. “Take mine.” Before he could reply, Becks turned on the blender. No one spoke for a few minutes while it ran. Ghost continued to stare at her back. Following their meeting in the living room, she’d put a zippered hoodie on over her pajamas. He wanted to tear it off her…with his teeth.
The blender stopped running. Becks reached into an overhead cabinet to grab out a tall glass. Then she poured her green slop into it. She took a small sip, likely checking taste, before putting the blender into the sink and filling the pitcher with water. Coming over to the table with her glass of guck, she caught Ghost’s eye.
Rather than look away, though, her eyes narrowed. “What?” she asked defensively.
Ghost watched as she took a seat. He lowered the steak to the table. Honestly, he hadn’t needed it. She’d clipped his eye more than delivering a blow of force. It hurt, and it stung, but he hadn’t really needed a full steak over it. But he’d secretly liked Loretta fussing over him, so he’d accepted the slab of meat she’d insisted on putting on his face.
Now the bag of peas on his dick haddefinitelybeen needed.
“What the fuck is that?” he demanded, indicating her drink with his chin.
Becks’ cheeks flushed, but not like before when she was trying not to look at his body. It wasn’t shame, exactly. Her posture was still stiff. “My breakfast.”
Ghost pointed down at the plate Loretta had placed in front of him. “Thisis breakfast.That,” he pointed to her glass, “is tree diarrhea. Don’t tell me you’re one of those women who feels like they have to starve themselves before their wedding.”
“God no!” Her shoulders relaxed a little, but it wasn’t like her expression was replaced with amusement or something good humored. “I happen to like my body,” she informed him. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t want to look my best for my own wedding.”
Her answer, while unexpected, pissed Ghost off. He loved that she wasn’t ashamed of her shape, that the defensiveness she’d shown hadn’t been because she was used to being body-shamed. The confidence she presented in her statement was refreshing. It was the statement itself that pissed him off.
Standing, Ghost tried his damndest not to wince or limp as he dumped the steak into the trash and put the peas back in the freezer. He picked up his plate of breakfast and brought it around the table to Becks’ side. Dropping it unceremoniously in front of her, he dropped his mouth down to her ear and growled for the entire room to hear, “Who says you don’t already?”
Becks gasped, stiffening under him. He grabbed her glass of grossness from the table. “Thank you for breakfast, Loretta. I’m just not hungry right now. I’ll go grab a shower while everyone is eating.”
Loretta, a little wide-eyed, nodded. “Of course, dear. There’s ibuprofen in the bathroom if you need it.”
He didn’t, but he still offered her his gratitude. He dumped the green shit in the sink on his way out. He’d prefer to go on a jog, but his balls might murder him if he tried right about now. He had no choice but to settle for a shower. A very, very,verycold one.
Why weremen’s egos so fucking fragile? It had been the question that was on Becks’ mind all day. Had she meant to falland land on the sexy, very aroused man sleeping on her mother’s living room floor this morning?No. Had she meant to knee him in that very endowed area and then elbow him in the eye? Again,no. Had she meant to sit on him, forgetting that not all men liked a heftier weight on top of them, and causing him to lose his breath? For the final time,no. But what the hell? What was the guy’s problem? He’d been glaring at her all day, and what the fuck was up with breakfast? What business was it of his if she drank a green shake for breakfast instead of the plate of home fries, eggs, bacon, and toast he’d dropped in front of her?
Before Libby and Becks had gone out to the florist, she’d nearly run into him on his way out of the bathroom. He’d still been dripping wet from his shower with a towel around his very defined, very muscular waist. Because, regardless of the ring on her finger, she was a woman—and she looked. A lot.
Which made her feel guilty, because what if the guy thought her a total perv? But would it kill him to put some fucking clothes on? He’d been practically naked from the moment she’d discovered him on the living room floor that morning.
The forty minute drive to the florist had not cooled Becks’ ire either. Libby thought the guy either wanted to fuck her or fight her, which was ridiculous. Becks wasn’t ashamed of her body size by any means. She’d gotten herself down to a size sixteen for her wedding, but she had held steady at an eighteen-twenty for most of her adult life. Did she wish she was smaller? Sure, but a size five? No, she had no ambition to be so small she got carried away by a brisk breeze. And she was very aware that her size was not for everyone. Clearly her brother’s best friend was not one of those people.
Ritchie loved her in spite of her curves, and she loved him for that. He’d never made her feel bad about being the size she was.
She loved Ritchie. She did. Really. She wasmarrying himin less than two days. What she was feeling, the butterflies in herstomach, the jitteriness in her legs, the overwhelming need to pee every five seconds… It was just cold feet, traditional wedding nerves. ShelovedRitchie.
She just wished he was here more. Long distance relationships sucked. But it would be different after the wedding. She was moving into his apartment in the city, and they both wanted kids right away. He promised to lessen his hours too, because then they would have two incomes supporting their family. Her podcast was really growing, and she had spoken to her boss at the animation studio that she only wanted to work on one to two big projects a year so she wasn’t traveling as much. Things would work out—after the wedding.
And no doubt Ritchie was also feeling the nerves of the wedding. He’d been a little shorter with her recently, but he was also working really long hours right now so he could have time off for their two-week honeymoon. He’d be arriving tomorrow afternoon, and when she finally got to see him again, everything would feel better. Feel right.
