Page 9 of The Secret to a Southern Wedding

“And she apologized,” his dad said. “Now let’s move on.”

Imani crossed her arms. “Exactly. I’m glad to see that your dad is being reasonable. I was worried.”

Cyril frowned at her. “Worried about what?”

She lifted her shoulder in a half shrug. “That someone who’s trying to rush my mother into a wedding wouldn’t be reasonable at all.”

“Why would you worry about that?”

He put his hands on his hips and cocked his head to the side. The defensive stance made him look bigger, sexier. Instead of being intimidated she was thrown off guard by the flutter through her midsection.

Flutters for this guy were not good. Especially now that she knew who he was. She hadn’t planned to go into her reasons why she was against this wedding as soon as she met them, but now that the conversation had gone this way there was no reason to hold back.

“Because if he were unreasonable then he wouldn’t listen to why it’s clear this wedding cannot happen.”

Her mom gasped. “Imani!”

Imani held up her hand. “I’m sorry, Mom, but someone needs to say it. I only came here because you wouldn’t answer my calls, and now I can say everything I need to say in person. This wedding is rushed, and I don’t even know who this guy is. I don’t think you should marry him.”

“I can tell you I want nothing but the best for your mom,” Preston said. He pressed a hand to his heart and Imani noted the gold signet ring on his finger. Nothing good came from a guy with a gold signet ring.

She shook her head. “I want the best for my mom, too. I can’t trust someone who just suddenly pops up and says they’re going to marry her. For all I know you’re a serial killer or something.”

The congenial smile on Preston’s face evaporated. A look of pain, stark and raw, flashed in his eyes. Cyril spoke up before Imani could analyze the look.

“My dad is not a killer.”

She turned to him. “Of course, you’d say that. You’re his son. I don’t know you either.”

Cyril scowled and pointed. “Look here—”

Preston placed a hand on his shoulder. “Son, not right now. Linda, we’ll go. Give you and Imani some time to talk about everything. Let’s try this again when everyone has had a chance to cool down.”

Linda moved to Preston’s side. “We don’t have to do that. That was the point of this meeting. To get everything out all at once.”

Preston gave her a small smile then kissed her cheek. “It’s okay. The kids started off on the wrong foot and you haven’t seen your daughter in over a year. You two catch up. We’ll come back over for dinner tomorrow. Okay, sweetie?”

Imani snorted. Sweetie? This man didn’t know her mom at all. If he did, he’d understand she hated pet names and public displays of affection.

Linda’s expression melted into one of acquiescence and affection. She nodded demurely and patted his chest. “Okay, baby,” Linda said in a sweet voice.

Imani’s jaw dropped. Who was this woman and what had she done with Linda Kemp? Linda who ate men’s balls for breakfast and claimed to never be a fool for any man ever again. This was not her mom, and this was further proof that she’d come just in time. This guy had brainwashed her mother and Imani was going to do everything she could to reverse the effects and stop this wedding.

five

Cyril and his dad left Ms. Kemp’s place shortly after Imani’s outburst. Cyril couldn’t believe she wanted to call off the wedding. Didn’t she understand how happy their parents were? Did she want her mom to be alone for the rest of her life? Yeah, the wedding was sudden, and their parents had planned it quickly, but that didn’t mean they didn’t care about each other. Their parents were over sixty and smart enough to know their own minds. Yet she didn’t trust them to make the right decisions.

Then there was the serial killer comment. He was more sensitive to the offhand comment because of what his family had gone through. He knew his dad wasn’t a killer, but after having to deal with the false claims and suspicion from his mother’s family after her death, those kinds of accusations struck a chord.

The shaken look on his dad’s face had shaken Cyril. He didn’t want his dad to sit alone with his feelings. Luckily he’d taken the evening off at the bar to spend time with Ms. Kemp and her daughter, so he followed his dad home.

They lived together in a small brick ranch-style home on the outskirts of Peachtree Cove. Cyril parked his truck next to his dad’s old sedan in the driveway and followed him inside. His dad went straight to the fridge and pulled out two cans of the basic beer he preferred no matter what Cyril brewed up. He handed one to Cyril before sinking heavily into one of the seats around the kitchen table.

“Did you have to tell her to replace your shirt?” his dad said after taking a sip of the beer.

Cyril’s eyes widened. He pulled out another chair and sat facing his dad. “You’re not seriously blaming me for this?”

“You could have been nicer to her,” Preston said in a gruff voice.

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