Page 134 of Wicked Beautiful (Wicked Games 1)
I drop my gaze to our joined hands, to the diamond glittering on my ring finger, and say a silent prayer that he knows what he’s talking about. Because at the moment, I’m about as stable as a lit stick of dynamite with a short fuse. A slight change in the wind could set me off.
In what I know is an effort to distract me, Parker switches on the radio. Ranchero music fills the cab of the truck. It’s a big, macho black Chevy that Parker bought after moving permanently to Mexico with me. His beloved Porsches couldn’t handle the country roads, so he made up for losing speed and performance by gaining burly engine noise, terrible MPG, and tires so big they look like they belong on earth-moving equipment.
Perdón takes every available opportunity to pee on them. I don’t think he’s quite yet adjusted to having another male around.
To cover my anxiety, I ask Parker how Tabby’s doing. As he does every time her name is mentioned, he laughs.
“Did you know that Hello Kitty’s real name is Kitty White, she’s a Scorpio, and that she loves apple pie?”
“Oh dear God.”
“And she has a twin sister named Mimmy. Apparently she also lives outside London. All of which I discovered after Tabby attended the Hello Kitty retrospective at the Museum of Contemporary Art in LA.”
I stare at him. “You’re making that up.”
Grinning, he lifts a hand in the air. “Hand to God, I’m telling the truth. It seems our beloved Tabitha isn’t the only person with an unhealthy obsession with this particular cartoon character. She said the opening was mobbed.”
I try to picture thousands of Tabby look-alikes swarming through a museum filled with Hello Kitty memorabilia, and fail. “I wish I could’ve seen that.”
Parker pulls his phone from his shirt pocket and hands it to me. “Check out her Instagram account. Though I warn you: prolonged viewing might make your eyes bleed.”
I take his phone, open the app, and navigate to Tabby’s page. Within moments, I’m laughing out loud. “How did she convince Darcy and Kai to go with her?”
“Well, apparently Ms. LaFontaine couldn’t pass up the opportunity to blog about the food at the event—which included such culinary delights as petit fours with Hello Kitty’s face on them and ten-dollar donuts with a frosted pink bow—and as Darcy’s fiancée refuses to go anywhere without her, Kai tagged along.”
Thinking of Darcy and Kai, I can’t help but smile. “That wedding is going to be outrageous.”
Judging by the invitation alone, whose first line read, “Shit just got real.”
Of course I won’t be attending. Parker will, though, and I’ll get to see all the pictures and hear all the stories. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing. And under the circumstances, I consider myself lucky to have even that.
We’ve been extraordinarily careful in our communications, relying on Parker to ferry messages back and forth when he goes on the occasional business trip to the States to check in on his restaurants. Normally I’d have pounced on Parker for information as soon as he returned from a trip, as he did last night, but I’ve been so tied up in knots about today that I simply gave him a kiss when he walked through the door, and led him straight to bed. He did his best to wear me out so I could sleep, but my mind ran on a hamster wheel all night.
I haven’t been this terrified in years. Maybe ever.
The truck slows, and then pulls to a stop. When Parker says quietly, “We’re here,” my heart jumps into my throat. I set the phone on the seat and look outside.
We’re parked at a curb on a lovely, tree-lined street. The lawns are green and the lots are large; this is the good part of Laredo. The house I’m staring in terror at is a pretty two-story flanked by a pair of big Weeping Willows. Yellow rosebushes in full bloom line the brick path that leads to the front door.
“Baby.”
Wide-eyed and trembling, I look at Parker. He reaches out and caresses my cheek.
“She’s gonna love you.”
My hands shake. My stomach churns. I’m having trouble catching my breath. “What if she doesn’t?”
His smile warms me straight through. “How could she not?”
He leans over, gives me a quick kiss, and then exits the truck. He comes over to my side and opens my door, holding out a hand. He steadies me as I wobble getting out.
“Easy, tiger,” he murmurs, pulling me against his side. “Take a few deep breaths.”
Breathing is something that has suddenly become quite challenging. As is staying upright; thank God for Parker’s calming strength, because without his support I’m not entirely sure I could remain standing.
“We’re breathing,” he gently reminds me when I remain frozen and breathless.
“Right. Deep breaths. Here we go.”
