Dirty Wedding

"So I hear."

"She hasn't subjected you to her creations?"

"I like cooking."

"Hmmm. Another in the pro column."

I raise a brow.

"Reasons to marry you. Rich, hot, athletic, good in bed, and a good cook. Well, a cook. I guess I'll be the judge of good."

"Is that the order?" I ask.

"No." She waves yeah, right. "Good in bed, hot, athletic."

"Fuck the rest?"

She nods pretty much. "Why are you marrying her? Are you going to tell me it's not about sex?"

"No." I check the fridge. There's enough to make breakfast. I grab eggs, butter, bread. "You take them sunny side up too?"

She makes that hmm noise that means yes.

I motion for her to sit.

She shakes her head. "You drink coffee, right?"

"I do."

"I'll make some. It's way too early. Where are you going, anyway?"

"Where do you think I'm going in a suit?" I roll my sleeves to my elbows.

Sienna shoots me that same please look. "You could be going anywhere. You always wear a suit. Like you're making a point or something."

"What's the point?"

"That you're rich and hot. We get it. You don't have to keep selling it."

My laugh is louder this time. "What would I sell if I wore jeans?"

She fills the electric kettle. Sets it to French Press. "That you're hot and down to earth, I guess."

"And I'm not?"

She makes that so-so motion. Rises to her tiptoes to reach for the coffee on a high shelf.

I grab it. Hand it to her.

"Tall. Tall people are the worst," she says.

"You're not exactly short."

"Yeah, but Indie has like three inches on me. And you…" She looks up at me. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm ridiculous?"

"Yeah. Save some height for the rest of us."

"How would I give you some?"

She makes that hmm face. "Okay. Keep your height. But you still haven't answered my question."

"Which question."

"Why do you want to marry her?"

"Sex. Of course."

"Do you love her?"

It catches me off guard. It's not the kind of thing I imagine Sienna considering. Love seems far outside her area of interests.

"I want to spend my life with her," I say. "I want to take care of her."

She scoops grinds into the French Press. "She needs that."

"I know."

"And I'll kill you if you hurt her."

"I appreciate that."

She fills the carafe with steaming water. "But… I think you'll do a good job. And it's okay with me. That she's marrying you. That she's moving on with her life."

"You should tell her that."

"I will," she says. "But I want you to know too. I trust you, Ty. I trust you to take care of her. Don't fuck that up. Promise you won't fuck that up."

It's not a promise I can make her, but I do it anyway. "I promise."

Sienna slips to her usual teasing self. Talks about football and her lust for my cousin. Even when I tell her she's overselling it, she asks what he's doing, where he is, if he's attending our engagement party this weekend.

She squeals when I tell her yes.

I can't tell how much is a put-on and how much is real, but I know better than to argue. So I ask her to promise she'll take care of Indie on all matters of prepping for the party.

Not the practical—Paloma's already booked hair, makeup, alterations—but the emotional.

I want Sienna there with her before we face the world.

I leave when she says Yes, of course, don't be stupid. Do you really think I need you to tell me to be there for my sister?

Arrive at work with a text from Indie.

Indigo: You should have stayed.

And a picture. Her in bed, covered only in her soft sheets, lips parting with a sigh.

Ty: I have work.

Indigo: You should have woken me then.

Ty: Your sister would have heard.

Indigo: I can be quiet.

Ty: I don't want you quiet.

She teases back with another picture.

The same only the sheets are at her waist.

Indigo: Tonight then. At your place. You have thick walls.

I do.

And I want to fuck her.

I want to give her everything she craves.

But not yet.

I need to make her wait.

Ty: Friday.

Indigo: You want me to wait until the night before the party?

Ty: Yes.

I want to have her close that night. To feel that she's mine before I go and announce it to the world.

Indigo: Will you do the scene?

Ty: Maybe.

Indigo: Maybe?

Ty: I want to surprise you.

Indigo: What if I don't want a surprise?

Ty: You do.

Indigo: Okay. I do. But I don't like maybe. It might mean no.

Ty: Do you trust me?

Indigo: Yes.

Ty: So trust me. I'll give you what you need.

Indigo: Do you promise?

Ty: Do I need to?

Indigo: No. Do it anyway.

Ty: I promise.

Chapter Forty-Six

Indigo

For two days, I think about Ty.

Every time I close my eyes, I see his hand on my thigh, I taste his lips, I feel his nails against my back.

All night.

Through a jog with Sienna. Breakfast. A shower. Tea.

As I don cotton panties, a sheer sundress, black sandals.