He was used to everyone ignoring him. He never said so, but I filled in the blanks. I’d been around his parents enough, and after a couple of visits, I limited my time with them.
“I’ll text him real quick.” The thought of dialing him up and hearing his deep voice on the other end sent my stomach sideways. He didn’t sound like Elijah. It was too weird.
Clover: The whole crew is here and would like to talk to us. FYI, this is not an uncommon occurrence. The Dukes are a big group, and we’re nosy.
His reply was instant.
Van: Give me twenty minutes.
A knot loosened between my shoulder blades. That was it? He wasn’t going to pepper me with questions before deciding to come to my room? This whole weekend had to be inconvenient for him. Extra time off. Money spent for no reason. And he was ending up with a pregnant wife.
“He’ll be here in twenty minutes.” I jerked my thumb to a bathroom. “I’m going to get dressed.”
I took much longer than twenty minutes. I heard when Van arrived, but I continued to listlessly vogue in front of the mirror. My pale face didn’t go with the dress as much as my bronzed skin from working outside much of the summer. I kept running a hand over my nonexistent baby belly. I’d known for a week. I wasn’t even a full month along, but being on a reliable twenty-eight-day cycle had its benefits, and knowing when something changed immediately was one of them.
I couldn’t put this off much longer. I might be getting married today, and it was to a man I barely knew. I’d had all of five meals in my life with Elijah and his parents and brother.
Van seemed different than the rest of his family. How? Was I fooling myself? Did I have a choice? I blew out a long breath and exited the bathroom.
My family murmured to each other. My sisters and Alder chatted with my aunt Linda. None of their significant others was here. A tall man stood in the middle of the room, his head bent and his hands in his pockets. A nice black suit draped perfectly over his shoulders, and the black trousers creased down to his wing tips. His trimmed brown hair was combed to the side, leaving a hard jaw fully visible.
Did a model get lost on his way to catch a limo? I was on the tenth floor. What’s this guy doing here?
He looked up, pinning me with emerald eyes. Van.
My heart pounded. Did I think his long hair softened his sharp features? How apt. The shortcut made him look ruthless. The color of his eyes intensified yet darkened. Butterflies exploded in my stomach, and I pressed a hand to my belly.
“Are you feeling sick, hon?” Mom asked.
No, I was— Yes. I was in the middle of morning sickness. I was ill. That was it. “Just the normal first-trimester stuff.” I slid my gaze to Van, but it was like looking at the sun. “You cut your hair.”
And he got a suit. With fancy loafers.
A ghost of a smile passed over his lips. “Figured if I was getting married, it was time.”
Despite the change, he didn’t intimidate me. The man in front of me wasn’t the Van Wagner I knew. But then, I didn’t really know Van.
“Now that we’re all here,” my dad said, “we can get started. I’ve talked with Linda about your request.”
My nausea swelled. I really was going to be sick. Linda didn’t go for our plan. She wasn’t going to let us in the house.
“Linda,” Dad said, gesturing to my quiet aunt. Where Dad’s hair was pitch black with scattered gray, Linda’s was plain brown, also pin straight. She gave off a dour vibe but was usually pleasant, if a bit stern.
Her mouth tightened, and I bit back a laugh. Dad was throwing her under the bus. Linda could outstubborn the best, and my dad wouldn’t do her dirty work.
That wasn’t fair. She was doing what my grandma Annie trusted her to do.
If she said no, then I wouldn’t be getting married, and buying this dress and wearing it was a waste. Could I move back in with Mom and Dad? Van and I would have something in common—living with our parents.
Linda sucked in a deep breath. “I want to help, but I can’t let you stay in the place for the whole year. It wouldn’t be fair to your siblings.”
The flat look on each of their faces told me that they didn’t care. It was a Linda thing.
“I understand.” I was proud of how strong I sounded.
“Three months,” she said.
I gave my head a shake. “For what?”
