My Sister's Husband
But we have to keep it together. It takes a couple of minutes for our friends and family members to leave, but finally, they’re all gone. After showing everyone out, Marcus pulls himself together.
“We have to settle the bill,” I say woodenly. He nods. My parents sit at one of the tables, holding each other and still crying. I’m upset, of course, but if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s dealing with chaos. I swallow down the tears threatening to make another appearance and straighten my dress.
Marcus follows me towards the hostess stand. “I’m sorry for your loss,” the young woman says. “Your guests already paid the remainder of the bill. Please, take as much time as you need.”
I sigh, my eyes welling up with tears. “Thank you so much,” I manage to choke out.
Back in the private room we reserved for the party, I leave cash on one of the tables to tip the servers.
“We should get your parents home,” Marcus says. It’s the first thing he’s said since we got the news about my sister. I hate myself for thinking his voice sounds even sexier during this terrible time.
“Yeah,” I say. Neither of us moves for a few minutes. We stand next to each other, watching my parents console each other. Tears spill from my eyes once again, my steely exterior cracking at the sight of Gail and Robert, who appear broken. Marcus puts his arms around me while I cry. Once I’ve gotten the sobs out of my system again, we finally approach my parents.
“Gail? Robert?” Marcus says gently, touching each of their shoulders. “Why don’t we get the two of you home?”
My parents look at Marcus like he’s a stranger. Suddenly, they look like they’ve aged twenty years in the last twenty minutes, and my heart breaks. I just lost my sister, but they just lost their oldest daughter. Tears well in my eyes again, but I try to stay strong.
“Come on, Mom and Dad. Let’s go home.”
My mom blinks a little, still unseeing.
“Mom? Dad? Come on,” I say in a gentle voice. “Let’s take my car.”
Finally, the two of them stand, still leaning on one another. Again, my heart breaks because I’m seeing them in a new light. They’re two elderly folks who’ve been dealt a fatal blow, and my mom’s eyes don’t look like they’re focusing, whereas my dad looks ashen and gray. I take both their hands, and begin leading them out to the parking lot.
At the hostess stand, Marcus stops. “Excuse me, Miss?”
“Yes, sir?” she says, batting her eyelashes at him. No one is immune to Marcus’s charming good looks. Even with bloodshot eyes, he’s hot enough to make girls fall to their knees. It’s sickening that the woman would try to flirt with a man who is clearly grieving, especially since she probably knows that this is the bereaved widower. Geez. Some people would probably just blink and smile even if it was the end of the world.
“Can we leave two of our cars here?” Marcus asks in a hoarse voice. “My in-laws are in no shape to drive themselves home.”
“Of course!” she chirps. “I’ll let my manager know. He’s aware of what happened. I’m sure he won’t have any problem with it.”
“Thank you,” he says. He gives her his grim smile before returning to where he left my parents and me by the front door. My stomach churns, and I feel simultaneously nauseous and excited.
“I can drive my car,” I argue.
“I think it would be best if we all go in mine.”
The way he says it is final, so I know there’s no point in trying to argue with him. The fight has drained out of me, anyways.
Marcus leads my parents towards his luxury sedan and loads them into the backseat. I climb into the passenger’s seat and stare out the window. I’m pensive because I just lost my sister, but there are also a million other thoughts whirling through my head.
In reality, I’m thinking about the man sitting next to me, who is no longer my sister’s husband. I’m especially thinking about how we almost kissed less than an hour ago. And even worse, I’m contemplating how much I want to get rid of the ‘almost’ part … and kiss my sister’s husband for real this time.
Chapter Two
Kelsey
Marcus practically carries my parents up to their bedroom.
While he gets them situated upstairs, I prepare us each a drink from my dad’s liquor cabinet. Two fingers of scotch over ice is Marcus’s usual choice. I pour a vodka tonic for myself, but down it quickly and pour another as Marcus descends the stairs. The alcohol warms me from the inside out.
“Here,” I say, handing him his drink when he enters the kitchen. “We both need it.”
He drinks the scotch in two gulps and grabs the bottle for a second. I sip my tonic slowly this time. The last thing I need right now is to be drunk with my sexy brother in law just after hearing my sister has died.