Page 53 of For The Weekend
She hums dubiously, and I sigh. “I will see you there.”
She arches her brow in warning then turns to Roman once more. “I suppose we…can chat later.”
He doesn’t verbally answer, only nods, and I don’t miss the way she eyes him, a little nervously.
“Don’t be late,” she singsongs as she trots off, and I heave a sigh, sagging into Roman’s side.
“Say the word, and I’ll tell her to fuck right off with her bullshit.”
“Kind of you to offer, but no. You can’t do that.”
“What can I do?” he asks, tugging me to face him, settling his hands on my waist.
“Being here with me is enough.”
He murmurs a quiet assent then kisses me again, though it’s not slow and sweet like before. This kiss is demanding, possessive. I moan, fisting my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer so I can feel the heat of his body against mine, the hard muscles beneath his shirt. And I’m more interested in climbing him like a tree than I am in going to this rehearsal and dinner.
He moves his hand to the back of my neck, holding me in place, and I melt into him, forgetting about anything else but him and the groan he makes when I slide my tongue along his lips, searching for his. He tastes faintly of coffee and the apple-cinnamon muffin I brought for him to snack on while we drove, and he lowers his head, dragging me further into him with hismagnetic pull. I press up onto my toes, desperate for more. I drape my arms around his neck, aiming to show him how much I’ve been thinking about this since our dinner, but he breaks the kiss, evidently much more responsible than me.
“We can’t do this right now,” he says against my lips, and I wonder… Does that mean there is another time to do it?
“What was that for?” I place my hands on his shoulders to steady myself since I’m dizzy. “There’s no show to put on.”
“Because I wanted to,” he rasps, voice like sandpaper. “Not because someone was watching. Not because I’m supposed to.” He strokes my cheek with his thumb, his eyes never leaving mine. “I kissed you because I wanted to.”
Chapter 15
Roman
Istick out like a sore thumb, and I couldn’t give two fucks about it. Besides my physical stature, my tattoos and hair set me apart. And probably my face.
I must be frowning—probably have been all night—because Eloise playfully frowns at me before breaking up into giggles, elbowing me about how she didn’t need me to scare anyone away. While I’m not doing it on purpose, my glower does seem to be doing the trick to keep anyone from saying any shit to her.
After the pleasant introduction to her mother and that too-short kiss by the lake, we headed back to our room to change for this rehearsal and dinner. When I asked Eloise if I needed to pack anything special for this weekend, she said a suit for the wedding but everything else was casual.
Well, casual apparently means a fuck of a lot different to me, because while I’m in jeans and a plain gray T-shirt, all the other men are in polo shirts and pants with creases, the women in nice dresses. Even Eloise changed into some flowery number with fluffy sleeves and these boots that hit her knees.Sexy as hell.
But I don’t give a shit about fitting in. I’m not here to impress anyone.
I’m only here for Eloise.
She wanted me to stay with her during the rehearsal, and even though it seemed like the bride and groom didn’t want me there, no one said anything to me about taking a seat in the back. As soon as it was over, I met her at the top of the aisle, put my hand at the small of her back, and guided her into me, kissing her forehead. Her cousin, Lily, a woman who appeared to have the personality of a two-by-four with the body of one as well, watched the whole thing.
I know Eloise’s mother gives her shit about her appearance, but my girl’s beautiful. Those lively green eyes and full lips. Her smile—pure joy. Not to mention her bangin’ body. Tall and luscious with thighs I have trouble not touching. Sweet and sexy and undeserving of the shit her family puts her through.
After the rehearsal, we were herded into this restaurant on the other side of the lodge, where Eloise introduced me to her father, Robert, her cocky son of a bitch brother, Alex, and a few other in-laws. Of course, there was also her aunt Beverly, a real viper, and the groom, Nick, who seemed to be more interested in drinking than doing whatever it was he was supposed to with Lily.
The lot of them have no idea what an amazing person Eloise is, either dismissing her outright or putting her down, and I quickly realized the best way to shield her is to keep her at my side with my hands or lips on her at all times.
A real chore, to be sure.
If I felt her getting tense during any conversation, I simply curled my arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple or held on to the back of her neck to bring her closer to me. Each time, whoever it was making her feel bad—her mom, aunt, cousin, or that old woman who smelled like a mix of rubbingalcohol and some god-awful perfume that made me sneeze—usually turned tail pretty quick, evidently put off by the very mild PDA. Or maybe it’s because I’m the one with my hands all over her.
Me with my big hands and tattoos and worn denim. How dare I?
Although, it’s not like they protected her otherwise. Treat her like shit, cool. Have her bring a guy like me home, horror.
Fuck ’em.
