Given (Give &Take) (11 page)

“Waste his life!” My head was on fire from the explosion going off in my brain. “How dare you say his life with me is a waste! You’ve been with him all of a day and you think you know what’s best for him?”

The bridal consultant started to enter the room and backed out again. Nadia, clearly pleased that she’d gotten under my skin, feigned composure. “When was the last time you talked to him about his dreams? About what he wants for the future other than getting married? Didn’t you see how alive he was last night talking about a potential project at the Weston Plantation? How animated he was? Why aren’t you encouraging him?”

“Why are you? So he can build up a mass of properties and Enzo can try to take them from him again? Or will it be you this time who stabs him in the back? Again?” I stepped down from the platform and took a few steps toward her, failing to look as intimidating in the mountain of tulle as I’d hoped. “Don’t judge me when you’ve been on the side inflicting pain all of this time. I’ve been here helping him pick up what’s left and move on. Now you stride into our lives with God knows what ulterior motive—although I have my suspicions—and start telling me how I’m failing him? No way. I won’t stand here and listen to this.”

“What suspicions, Rachael?” she asked, calmly picking her nail.

“Just be warned. I won’t let you manipulate him.” I hefted up the ten pounds of skirting and stormed into the dressing room. I was shaking I was so mad. How dare she insinuate that I’m not good for Merrick. That she somehow knows his needs better than I do.

I reached behind me for the zipper to the god-awful ugly dress I’d indulged her in trying on, only to find I
couldn’t reach it and needed the consultant’s help. If I didn’t get my temper under control, I’d be tearing the thing off by the seams in seconds.

Sticking my head out through the curtain, I choked at the sight in front of my eyes. Nadia was crying in Merrick’s arms with Paul patting her back. I was the big bad stepmom already and hadn’t even made it down the aisle. Merrick’s eyes found me, hard and ringed in disbelief. How could I do this to him? That was the question I was certain we were both asking ourselves, but only I knew I was justified. I wouldn’t stand by and let anyone verbally attack me, even his precious Nadia.

Merrick eased her out of his arms into Paul’s and strode toward me with a lethal look that made my stomach flutter. I stepped backward farther into the dressing room and he followed me in, shaking his head. “Why?” he asked, setting his hands on his hips.

“Did you ask
her
why?”

He threw out a hand. “She won’t stop crying long enough to talk about it! What did you say to her?”

“What did
I
say to
her
? How about what did
she
say to me, Merrick?” I spun around, fidgeting in the dress, trying to unwrap it from around my legs. “Please unzip me!”

He did and I let the dress fall off my shoulders, thankful to be out of the heavy, hot material. “Well?” he said, turning me around by the shoulders.

I took the opportunity to balance and step out of the skirt and slip. “She told me I wasn’t good for you. What was I supposed to do? Agree with her?”

He squeezed my shoulders, pulling me upright to stand straight in front of him. “I doubt very much that’s what she meant. Her meaning was probably lost in the interpretation.”

“Interpretation? So now I’m stupid and didn’t hear what I heard?” I shoved his hands off me. “You have to be kidding me.”

He shoved his fingers through his hair like he always did when he was frustrated, making it puffy on top. I would’ve laughed if I wasn’t about to cry. “I’m not saying you didn’t hear whatever you heard. I’m just saying she probably didn’t mean it like it sounded. Sometimes things come out wrong.”

“This is a very one-sided conversation. Unless you care to take what I have to say seriously, then there’s no reason to talk about it anymore.”

Merrick turned and let his forehead fall against the wall. “Jesus, Rachael. Why can’t you just get along with her?”

“Why can’t I… Why do you assume it’s me that can’t get along with her? Everything was going swimmingly until she told me I basically suck ass at being your girlfriend and had to step it up if I deserved to marry you.”

He turned his head and raised his eyebrows in condescension. “Seriously? That’s what she said?”

I gritted my teeth and squeezed my hands into fists at my sides. “You better get that fucking look off your face right now, Merrick Rocha, if you know what’s good for you.”

He laughed. I could not believe he was laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said, and waved a hand in the air. “But you trying to be intimidating is just funny.”

I let out a frustrated groan and he laughed harder, holding his stomach. “I hate you,” I said, and crossed my arms, glaring at him, which he found absolutely hysterical.

Watching him crack up leaning against the wall of the tiny five-foot-by-five-foot dressing room with the hideous dress swaddled around our calves made me start to get giddy. At first, I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on my lips even by biting my cheeks, then I was giggling, and finally full out laughing with him.

“There’s something very wrong with you,” I told him between fits of laughter.

“It’s been a stressful few weeks. I guess I just… snapped.” His face was red from laughing and my mascara was running. I could only imagine what Paul, Nadia, and the bridal consultant were thinking. First we’re yelling at each other, then the next thing you know, we’re laughing like loons.

Merrick reached out and pulled me to him. “Come here. I don’t care what anyone says or what you hear or think you hear or didn’t hear. Listen to
me
, okay. I love you.” He took my face between his hands. “I want to marry you and be with you forever. I know accepting Nadia after everything in my past with her and Enzo and her mother is hard for you. It’s not easy for me either, but I want to go forward in a good way and leave all of that behind, especially now that my future looks so beautiful.” His eyes dropped to the dress on the floor. “Even beautiful in this terrible dress, but if you like it, who am I to complain?” He winked and kissed
me. I ran my hands up his chest and behind his neck, holding him and deepening the kiss.

Even when we fought, we didn’t really fight; we just blew off steam and picked up where we left off. But it was like putting a Band-Aid over a gaping wound that needed stitches. It still bled and the Band-Aid would soon fall off and we’d be back where we were—at odds about Nadia.

I knew this in my heart, but when I was held tight in Merrick’s arms, it didn’t seem to matter.

I
was losing my mind. All I could think about was making Rachael forget everything that had happened by shoving her up against the wall, spreading her legs, and proving to her just how much she was mine. I didn’t care who was outside that curtain or how much money the dress on the floor was that I was trampling all over.

Never breaking our kiss, I grasped the backs of her thighs and lifted her, turning us so she was against the wall. She pulled her lips away and slid them to my ear. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“Apologizing.” I crushed my lips to hers again, teasing her with my tongue to open her mouth. She did and let out the sweetest moan I’d ever heard. I slipped my fingers inside her damp panties, pushing them aside so I could touch her, get inside her.

Needing me, too, she flicked the button on my pants open and tugged the zipper down. “Hurry,” she pleaded, taking me out and positioning me at her entrance. I fell against her, letting my hips guide me up into her wet heat. She dug her fingernails into my shoulders. Her thighs tightened
around me. I thrust urgently, desperately. We had to find ourselves again. I was so sick of arguing with her. Making love was our language, not fighting.

She whimpered and shook. I felt her contracting and pulsing around me. It was too much sensation to hold back. I held her tight and let it take me under.

We stood, slack against the wall, breathing each other in, savoring the last seconds of togetherness, when there was a knock against the frame of the curtained room. “Do you need help in there?” a woman asked.

Rachael grimaced and her legs shot down to the floor. “No. I’ve got it. Thanks.”

“Yes, you do,” I whispered, nipping her earlobe.

She let out a breathless laugh, tucked me back into my pants, and zipped me up. I cupped her cheek and looked into her eyes. So many words were in there, left unspoken between us. I knew this was only the beginning of our struggles, but God, I loved her and we could make it through. “Get dressed.” I kissed her forehead and left the dressing room.

Nadia and Paul were waiting on the sidewalk outside the dress shop. Thankfully, she’d stopped crying and looked like nothing had happened. “We were talking about getting dinner somewhere,” she said. “Know any good restaurants around here?”

“There are a few.” I pointed up the street to the corner. “Angelo’s has great Italian. A little farther up there’s Poseidon’s Table. Dumb name, amazing seafood.” I knew
Rachael had wanted to hit Poseidon’s the last time we were in town shopping, but we were meeting Beck back at the boat and ran out of time. The last thing I was going to do, though, was mention how Poseidon’s would be Rachael’s choice. Too soon. I was avoiding more tears at all costs.

Nadia squeezed Paul’s arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. “What do you think?” she asked, gazing up at him.

A protective streak ran through me and I suddenly wanted to threaten him with his life if he hurt her. If I ever saw her cry again, it would be too soon.

Rachael pushed out the door and stepped onto the sidewalk, avoiding eye contact with all of us. Awkward tension banded around us and held on tight.

I needed a drink. “Where are we eating, Paul?”

He gazed down at Nadia. “Seafood?”

She shrugged. “If you want.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Italian it is.”

Rachael sighed. I took her hand and led us down the street to the corner.

Angelo’s was a cave of dark red booths, ancient black casino carpeting, a megalith of a mahogany bar that looked more like an altar pillaged from an old Catholic church than a bar, and dim candlelight from stubs in dirty glass holders on each table.

It was a hole, but the lobster ravioli melted in your mouth. Rachael was on her third glass of merlot and I took the last swig of my second Jameson on the rocks, which
had smoothed the sharp edge, but in no way eliminated it altogether.

“The Renault Vineyard should distribute to the U.S.,” Paul said, swirling his own merlot around in his wineglass. He’d carried the conversation for the past almost hour now and was doing surprisingly well. He spoke better English than he’d let on.

“When you take over, you can make it as big as you want,” Nadia said, and tapped him on the nose. For some reason, she turned her eyes on Rachael then. “Paul has big plans for his parents’ company when he takes it over in a few years. I think they’re brilliant.” She snugged against Paul’s side. “I can’t wait to order Renault wine in every restaurant in the world!”

Rachael stabbed a ravioli then let her fork drop and kicked back a big gulp of wine. “Full?” I asked her, patting her leg.

“Something like that.” She turned to me and her tight expression softened. “I’m just ready to get home. I’m not feeling well.”

It had been a long day, and it was not like I’d eased her into a relationship with Nadia. She was stuck on an island with her where there was no buffer. After today and whatever went down between them, it would only be harder to deal with.

The server approached the table. “Anyone save room for dessert?”

“I think we’re—”

“Yes,” Nadia said when I was hoping to end this dinner
and get Rachael home to the privacy of our tree house. “Chocolate cake and cappuccino.”

“Anyone else?” the server asked.

Nadia nudged Paul.
“Non,”
he said, rubbing his stomach. “I’m full.”

“Come on,” she pleaded. “At least have a cappuccino.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. A cappuccino, please.”

“Great.” The server turned to Rachael and me. We both shook our heads, no.

We sat for another half hour watching Nadia eat her cake and her and Paul sip their cappuccinos. It was almost physically painful knowing Rachael wanted to bolt for the door and never look back. If she weren’t there, it would’ve been fine. I hated thinking that way, but it was true. I didn’t want to live my life divided between Rachael and Nadia, but the odds of them getting along were looking slim. That left one option: letting one of them go.

That couldn’t happen either, so I was effectively fucked by these two stubborn women.

Rachael and I soaked in the sunken hot tub in the tree house. Never one to hold much alcohol, she had her eyes closed. I picked up her foot and propped it on my lap, rubbing my thumbs over her instep. We needed to talk, but dredging up the day was the last thing I wanted to do.

This morning when she’d suggested a shopping trip,
she’d been trying so hard to bond with Nadia. Whatever happened between them had to have been a misunderstanding. Rachael would never hurt my daughter intentionally and I couldn’t believe Nadia would set out to hurt Rachael either.

“Come here,” I said, pulling her calf to get her to cross the hot tub to me.

Her eyes opened and I saw the sorrow in them. We needed to talk about this, but we wouldn’t.

I took her onto my lap and held her against me in the bubbling water. I needed to feel her heart beat and touch her soft skin. Without her, I had nothing.

This was just one puzzle piece in the big jigsaw puzzle picture of our lives together that wasn’t fitting quite right. But it would. We’d find a way to make it fit.

“You okay?” I asked her, cradling her head against my shoulder.

She shrugged.

“Tomorrow’s a fresh start.” I tipped her chin up and kissed her hard, intent on conveying my trust in her, my belief that she could overcome this rift between her and Nadia.