Page 28 of D’Vaughn and Kris Plan a Wedding

Was it sacrilegious to imagine screwing your fake fiancée while you were standing just a few steps away from the doors of the church? Because that’s what I was now doing. Had that been her plan? Was this Kris’s way of trying to distract me from spiraling out of control about a situation that hadn’t yet taken place? My eyes were glued to her face, and I saw the exact moment that she realized where my mind had gone. Her lips curled into a wicked grin and she bent her head to press a tortuously slow kiss to my cheek. The way her lips barely grazed my skin was undeniably chaste, but for some reason felt illicit in a way that made my nipples pebble beneath my bra.

“Do you need some incentive?” she murmured into my ear. “Because I can give you that.”

She is so freaking good at this. And just like that, my mind shifted completely away from the doom and gloom to something slick and hot and needy, and OMG was I wet?! I was. Standing less than one hundred feet away from my mama, who was only separated from us by the two sets of doors that led to the sanctuary.

Yeah, I needed to reel it in.

Properly distracted, I gave a false laugh that played at being light but was really desperation and want in disguise as I stepped out of Kris’s arms and brushed my hands down the bodice of my dress.

“Your sex appeal is dangerous,” I informed her. Too dangerous.

Sliding her teeth across her bottom lip, she reached for my hand and started for the door.

“Just know that I can back it up though.”

Did I say dangerous? I meant downright treacherous because I had no doubt that there was something beneath the surface of her easy grin and warm brown eyes that would make me lose my mind—and myself. My mind, I wanted to keep firmly in my possession. My body? I wanted to give that over for her to do with as she pleased.

The double doors of the church opened outward and two women stepped forward to hold each side open.

“Good morning, D’Vaughn,” greeted the younger of the two, her eyes sparkling with a knowing gleam.

“Good morning, Sister Mary.” Reflexively, I searched her face, waiting for the ugliness to surface, but surprisingly, nothing came. I turned to the other woman who was old enough to be my grandmother. Her lips were pursed and eyes narrowed. Noticing her expression, Kris squeezed my hand, and I braced myself for her response.

“Young lady,” she began in a prim voice full of censure, “I know you think you grown, but the next time I see you out there disrespecting the Lord’s house—committing fornication and whatnot—I’mma put you over my knee.”

My mouth fell open and I could hear Sister Mary stifle a chuckle behind me.

“Oh, but Mother Jacobs, this is my—”

The older woman waved her hand and raised her voice to cut me off. “Aht! I don’t care ’bout none of that mess. Boyfriend, girlfriend, whatever. If you ain’t married, you sinnin’! You hear me?”

Unsure whether I should be relieved or amused, I gave her a swift nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mother Jacobs nodded toward the sanctuary. “Good. Now get on in there. You almost late and your mama been worried.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeated dutifully, tugging Kris behind me and entering the sanctuary.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” Kris said into my ear as I led her down the back row and up the aisle along the wall. “Though, I didn’t know kissing was fornication.”

“Color me surprised,” I mumbled back, my eyes on my mama’s large green hat a few pews ahead.

She squeezed my hand. “It’s a good sign. Relish in it.”

I wanted to agree with her, to nod and admit that she was right, but my heart had leaped into my throat and the blood was rushing through my ears too loudly for me to focus on anything but my mama. She kept glancing over her left shoulder at the doors to the sanctuary. She was undoubtedly looking for me, but then finally, she turned to her right. The moment she spotted me, her eyes lit up and she smiled wide, standing to her feet and scooting out of the pew, facing me just as we made it to her.

“Hey, Mama,” I squeaked. Kris squeezed my hand once more, and I felt like she’d be doing that a lot throughout the day, as if I was a beach ball that kept deflating and she was my trusty air pump that refused to let me go flat.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, relief tugging her shoulders down. “You almost missed the—” She trailed off and it felt like the world switched to slow motion as I watched her eyes skirt down my body until she reached mine and Kris’s joined hands. Everything sped up again as her questioning gaze jumped back up to mine, her lips first parting to ask a question and then snapping shut when she likely realized the answer.

“Mama, this is Kris.”

Within seconds, Mama raked her gaze over Kris, taking in her suit, loafers, locs, piercings, and the tattoo across the front of her neck that was still visible despite her collared shirt and tie. Instead of then meeting my eyes again, Mama dropped her gaze, taking with it the sliver of hope that I’d clung to. My heart plummeted into my shoes as Mama extended her arm toward the pew.

“G’on on and have a seat. Praise and worship is about to begin.”

Those fissures shifted, the cracks widening, allowing tiny streams of me to seep through. I glanced back at Kris to find her jaw tight, her eyes fierce and trained on me. She nodded and tilted her head toward the pew. Taking a shuddering breath, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my mama’s cheek before sliding into the pew. Kris followed behind me and we both sat down. From the corner of my eye, I watched as my mama stared at us—at our hands—from the aisle. Kris had lifted our joined hands and rested them on her thigh. There was no mistaking the possessive move, and I knew my mama recognized it for what it was.

The noise in the sanctuary grew as the praise and worship singers took their place. My sister’s voice sounded through the speakers, loud and joyful.