Page 90 of Embody

Twenty-Nine

Bellamy

I HAVE NOidea what this ton of stuff we need to discuss is, nor how his talk with my dad went. Which is why, by the time he gets back with dinner, my stomach hurts too bad from worrying to eat.

He unpacks the bags onto the coffee table and joins me on the couch, digging right in to his meal with gusto…and an obvious lack of concern about bothering to do much actual chewing before consumption.

After he’s finished inhaling his burger and fries, he finally notices that the only thing I’ve been gnawing on is my fingernails.

“You gotta be hungry. Why aren’t you eating?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Could be because you tell me we have so much totacklethat you don’t know where to start,aftertalking on the phone with my very angry father, then walk out the door and leave me hanging. I’m nervous enough to puke from nerves alone. No need to add food to the chaos.”

“Yeah.” He scratches his head and frowns. “I could see that. Sorry babe, wasn’t thinking. Too hungry.”

“I could tell. The way you were eating, I was waiting to give you the Heimlich. But now you’re fed, so tell me something,anything, already!”

“Sheesh, I was just gonna,” he teases with feigned annoyance. “So impatient.”

“My dad, Jefferson. What did he say?” I’m losing what little patience I have left…and my sanity.

“He told me to tell you what I think is a poem. Something about being wrong-”

“But not for long. Give him a break, to cure his ache,” I finish with a huge smile.

Jefferson taps his nose then points to me. “That’s the one.”

“Oh my God!” I catapult myself onto his lap, straddling him with my legs on either side of his hips. Best seat in the house. “That’sourpoem he made up when I was a little girl, to settle our disagreements. It’s his way of saying he knows he was wrong. I mean, it says so verbatim! The call, with you, ended by him asking for my forgiveness. What did you say to him?” I pepper kisses all over his gorgeous face.

“Um…about that.” I freeze, mid-pepper, at his ominous tone and lean back to search what lies unsaid in his eyes.

Guilt.

“Where would you say you stand on the line between lying and white-lying for the greater good,precisely?” He grasps for amnesty with one of his sexy winks.Nope, not this time, mister.

“Just tell me.” I start to climb off his lap, which he doesn’t permit, firming a steel grip on my hips.

He takes a deep breath and as fast as he can talk, legibly, explains how it came to be that our parents will soon be meeting at a surprise party, that despite what he told my father, Iwasn’tselflessly scrimping, saving and planning for—suddenly turned surprise on me.

“Are. You. Insane?” I push on his chest. “What the hell are we supposed to do now?”

“Easy. Depending on what your dad decides, we either load up my family and some party shit for a road trip to Mississippi or we let my mom and aunts plan a partypalooza in my parents’ backyard and get the guest room ready.” He thinks he’s got it all figured out, beaming proudly and stealing a kiss.

Huh, I think he might have it all figured out.

“No more lying,” I throw in for good measure. “Next time it might not be so easy to cover your ass.”

“Yes ma’am. And you’re welcome, baby.” He tilts me back, kissing up my throat. “Say thank you,” he growls in my ear when he makes it there.

“Thank you,” I pant, turning my head to give him more room to work.

But I’m denied, and pulled back up. “Don’t get me started or we won’t get all the rest sorted.”

“There’s more?”

“Yep. And I’d like to preface “the more” with a reminder that you’re crazy about me, largely due to the fact that you know, deep down, everything I do is for you. Because I care about you, very much.”

“Silly me,” I scoff, “here I was worrying. You should’ve told me there was a pre-speech, not at all foreboding as hell. Could’ve saved me the agony.”

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