Page 60 of The Marriage Deal
THUNDER IN MY CHEST
BRIGGS
Aflash of gold catches my eye from where I look over the cliffs to the falls, and I watch as Senior hurries down the stairs to the yard below. Since realizing Lilah takes her coffee every morning on the back deck, I’ve taken to angling myself to catch her when she appears. Like every morning but the first, the woman appears in a little satin robe that I know covers a ball busting set of pyjamas.
There’s no denying she’s attractive. Just like there’s no denying that I want her.
I don’t know how I thought I could do this with her, fake something so real with her, and not fall victim to the game we played.
I pull a breath deep into my lungs. It’s early, but it’s already warm. There isn’t a cloud in the sky, so I know it’s going to be a hot one.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I shift onChester, the horse my biological father clearly favored, to pull it out. Mom’s name flashes on the screen and I loose the breath I’ve been holding in my lungs.
I’ve ignored her last few calls. I told myself she’d been calling at inconvenient times. Told myself I was busy, and I’d call her later. Later just never came around.
I swipe and lift the phone to my ear, keeping my gaze fixed on the little woman on my back deck. My soon to be wife.
The thought comes with a burn that grows far too fast in my gut as I greet, “Morning, Mom.”
“I knew you’d be up.” I can hear the clinking of a spoon on ceramic and know she’s making herself her morning tea with honey. “I also know how you like your mornings to yourself. But since you’re not answering or returning my calls, I’ve been forced to invade your personal time.”
Jeez. I huff a short laugh. “Sorry.”
“That’s all I get?”
“What more do you want?”
“Oh, I don’t know, a vacation would suffice as sufficient apology.”
“A vacation?” I chuckle, knowing she can’t be serious. In all the millions—billions I’ve made, Mom has never once asked me for anything. Sure, I’ve bought her things. New cars and jewelry. I would have bought her a new house if I’d been able to convince her tomove, but she liked where she landed in the little house in the little cul-de-sac.
“I can have my bags packed today.”
I laugh again, this time with more vigor. “Where would you like to go?”
“Oh, I’m thinking somewhere hot. Somewhere with a mountain view where I can sip good wine and relax.”
My laughter dies. I nearly choke on the realization. “You want to come here.”
She harrumphs. “I want to meet the woman who has my son in such a tizzy he’smarryingher!”
“Mom—”
“I thought you were just swept up when you said you proposed. Thought, oh, he’s just in love, when you said you wanted the wedding to be soon.” She gasps, “Honestly, Briggs, this isn’t like you,” she screeches. “But now I’m looking at the wedding invitation to yourwedding! Your wedding, Briggs, and I just—” She breaks off to huff a little more. “I’m just speechless.”
“Doesn’t sound like you’re speechless to me.”
I know I’m going to get a tongue lashing before I even speak the words, and wait for it with a wide grin that would make her head spin if she were here to see it.
“Briggs!”
My gaze slides to the woman on the deck again. She’s lifted her legs onto the cushion, her feet crossed at the ankles. Senior is no longer sniffing around the yard but sprawled on the rug in front of her. The wildmass of her wavy hair is pulled over one shoulder as she watches the sunrise.
Or maybe she watches me like I watch her.
Shit, this is my time to think. The quiet of my mornings has always been where my most productive thoughts find life.
Now all I can think of is her.
