AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Of course not,” Jenny says.
But Shannon raises an eyebrow. “But how do you know it’s not just a casual kissing thing?”
It might very well be. I know she’s right, and I should clarify this with Eli.But I will, I promise myself. I will.
Eventually.
“I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with kissing,” Shannon adds. “Ormorethan kissing. Even the abstinence people would sign off on this. Is it even technically a real marriage if you don’t, you know, consummate it?”
I cover my face with my hands. “Please, do not use the wordconsummateagain. For the love.”
“I don’t think the immigration police or whoever are exactly checking for that kind of proof,” Jenny says. “The consummatory kind.”
“Still. It could be a perk to enjoy,” Shannon says. “I knowIwould.”
“But you’re not Bailey,” Jenny says.
I slide down in my chair, wishing my bones would melt so I could puddle under the table and away from this conversation. It’s not that I can’t discuss sex like an adult. It’s more that this is all too real. And, by the same token, unreal. I agreed to marry Eli for his visa. Not for … any other reason.
But if he asked …
“Can we just … not?”
I can’t allow myself to think any more about this. There is a very heavy door closed on the topic of physical intimacy with my soon-to-be only-on-paper husband. I mentally add another few bolts to reinforce it.
“But back to the matter at hand today and the wedding dress dilemma,” Jenny says, and I could kiss her for steering this ship away from consummating-the-marriage waters. Shannon sighs heavily—at the change in topic, no doubt—but turns interested eyes my way. “For real, though—are you going to let him?”
“Let himwhat?”
The spike of adrenaline at the sound of Eli’s voice has me grasping my knife in some kind of misguided fight-flight-or-stab-someone response. I turn and see a sight that’s the equivalent of a whole quiver of cupid’s arrows finding my heart in unison. Eli, wearing a backwards cap and a Henley, is carrying his mother. Maggie looks tiny in his arms, her smile broad despite the shadows beneath her eyes.
“We made it!” Maggie says a little breathlessly, as though she were the one carrying Eli, not the other way around.
She throws one arm dramatically wide. The other stays looped around Eli’s neck. She’s wearing loose jeans, a pink cable-knit sweater, and a black and white striped scarf that somehow makes me think about prisoner’s uniforms in old cartoons and movies.
I scramble to my feet and attempt to hug her, which ends up being a strange sort of mother-son group hug. Eli’s chuckleshifts my hair and sends a shiver skittering up my spine. Maggie smells like flowers and incense, muting Eli’s masculine scent somewhat. I find myself taking a deeper inhale with my nose pressed to his collarbone, trying to locate him.
“Planning on stabbing someone, Leelee?” Eli asks as I pull back.
He raises a brow at my fist, still curled around the butter knife I used to cut my grilled cheese in half earlier. I’m lucky I didn’t stab one of them during the hug.
“Oh. This.” I set it on the table, but the heavier part is over the edge, and it clatters to the floor. I bend to pick it up and hit my forehead on the edge of the table. “Ow.” Slumping back into my chair, I rub my forehead and my wounded pride.
“Set me down, son,” Maggie says, patting Eli on one of his impressive pecs. “You’re causing a spectacle.”
He absolutely is—and not just at our table.
The spectacle isn’t because Eli is carrying his mom, though I’m sure that adds to it.Heis the spectacle. His size, which is the evolutionary pinnacle of our kind. And his handsomeness, which has a sort of full-body halo effect. He’s just … brighter than anyone else in the room. Clearly, multiple people recognize him, and phones are already out.
And he’s mine, some tiny, very misguided part of my brain says. I pop that thought like a balloon.
“As you wish, madame.”
With a swoop that makes Maggie squeal, Eli sets his giggling mother on the empty chair next to mine. Despite the dramatic movement, he’s careful to tuck her legs under the table and doesn’t step back until she’s secure. Then he turns all of THAT my way, beaming as he leans forward to press a quick kiss to my forehead.
“Better?” he asks.
I nod, having lost my ability to speak several minutes ago. Apparently, there’s something in the air, because my friends are both under the same bubble of silence. But it looks like theywantto speak, considering the way both of their mouths are hanging open. Eli pulls a chair up beside his mom, keeping her between us, and I’m glad right now for the buffer. I feel far too soft and squishy and vulnerable right now. Under the table, though, his foot finds mine, giving me a soft but solid press.
