Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) (68 page)

I’d been looking forward to seeing her, sharing that OMG moment, but now I felt guilty because I was regretting this dinner already and we hadn’t even made it to the restaurant. There was something else that was bugging me. Mom was a talker. There was no such thing as silence when she was in the vicinity. She’d complain about the dogs or the news or
something
, letting me off the hook from trying to actually have a conversation.

She was notably quiet, looking out the window like I did as a kid when I was trying to illustrate just how mad I was after an argument.

“What’s wrong?”

She faced me, eyes wide and innocent. “Everything’s fine, Leila. Perfect even—I get to go out with my daughter and celebrate her engagement in her brand new car.”

Both of those occasions should have been things to be happy about and I almost believed she was okay until she flashed me the fakest smile I’d ever seen on her face. If I wasn’t barreling down the freeway, I would have slammed on my brakes.

My mother was a lot of things. She was loud, brash, tactless, giving, and overly excitable. She’d never met a stranger and was fiercely loyal to her family and friends. She was a little celebrity crazy, but who wasn’t these days? Entire careers were built on the public’s voracious need to know everything about the rich and famous.

But she didn’t have a phony bone in her body and when I looked at the curve of her lips, I knew immediately that she wasn’t being honest with me.

I had a couple of options. I could drop it, like she obviously wanted me to, or I could find out what was going on. I stared out at the highway, cars rocketing past us as I weighed out each one. The first meant we could pretend together; turn up the radio and let the music fill the silence until the conversation was kickstarted and we were too busy catching up to remember the lie that started it all. Option two was sure to annoy her which would in turn annoy me and this Mother/Daughter thing would be officially a bust.

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, deciding on the easy route. I was getting entirely too good at going with the flow. Fear of rocking the boat was throwing me overboard. Drowning me.

I pressed the volume up button and some upbeat pop song flowed from the speakers. Mom sung a few bars and I had no choice but to smile. She was always talking about my voice, how I could have made it as a singer if I wanted, but I knew I was just ordinary. I could carry a tune and stay on key, but her voice MOVED you. It was deep and full and powerful and at the same time, you could hear the vulnerability and rawness in every note. Only Mom could turn a Kesha song into something deep.

She stopped, noticing that I was watching her. “You better keep your eyes on the road.” She was blushing.
Blushing.
She was far too confident to be so red, especially around me.

I switched over to the right lane, putting the car in coast so she couldn’t use speed or speeding cars as an excuse. “What’s going on, Mom?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve already told you I’m fine.”

“Something’s going on with you.” When she made a face and repositioned in her seat, I let out a sigh. “Is this about the car?”

She dropped a sigh of her own. “I wish you’d let your dad go along with you to make sure you got a good deal, but I know you’re an adult. To answer my question, she finished, “This isn’t about the car.” When I opened my mouth to say ‘Aha!’, she added, “And there is no ‘this’. Because nothing’s going on!”

“You’re mad or bothered by something.”

“Well, if you keep insisting that I’m mad, I probably will be!”

I took the exit for downtown, but I wasn’t going to just drop this. We never talked or saw each other now that I was working full time and living in the city. As crazy as she made me at times, I loved her. We’d gone through so much, but I wanted to be at a place where we could at least talk to each other. I needed that connection.

We came up to a light and I looked over at her. “Please, Mom.”

She looked genuinely uncomfortable and when she met my gaze, there was no pretending that she wasn’t bugging out about something. “It’s not nearly as big a deal as you’re making it.” Her voice sharpened. “Or at least it’s not a big deal to you.”

I was happy the charade was over and annoyed because we were already arguing and we hadn’t even been together for 15 minutes.
Of course it was my fault.

The guy behind us laid on his horn and if she wasn’t in the car, I would have flipped him off. Instead, I gritted my teeth and put the car in motion. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

“You know I keep up with the news.” She didn’t mean world events. She hated how depressing the news was, filled with up to the second stories about crime and politics. She preferred light, entertainment news. Gossip.

I still wasn’t sure what the news had to do with her weird behavior. “Okay...?” I glanced at her quickly before returning my attention to the road. “Is this about me and Jacob?”

“Yes,” she said tersely.

I was even more confused. All of the recent pictures of me and Jacob were happy ones. Hand in hand, lovey dovey, perfectly boring shots of our day-to-day life.

The heated glare she followed up with nearly made me swerve into another lane. She was freaking pissed.

“So you know exactly what is wrong with me. What hurt me.”

I shook my head no. “I honestly don’t, Mom.”

“I only have one child, Leila,” she bit off.

“I know-” I started, but she didn’t let me get anything else in.

“And you know how excited I am about you and Jacob getting married,” she continued. “So imagine my surprise when I read that Alicia Whitmore was quoted saying how happy she was that you and Jacob are letting her handle the planning process.”

I literally swerved and the car in the next lane slammed on their brakes, the driver honking angrily.

“She said
what
?” Mom repeated it and I nearly ripped the wheel from the column, imagining doing un-daughterly things—like wringing Alicia's neck. “Mom, that’s news to me.”

She wasn’t buying it. “So that wasn’t you and Jacob meeting his mom and a wedding planner for lunch last week?”

I faltered. “We did, but that was more a courtesy than anything else.”

“I’m your mother, Leila. Don’t you think I deserve the courtesy of being a part of your big day?” Her words were angry, but I heard the tears coating each one. I slowed and pulled into a parking garage. We were still a good ten minute drive form the restaurant, but no way would I get us there in one piece if she started crying. Just looking at how hurt she was made tears burn my eyes.

I put the car in park, trying to get myself together before I looked at her. No amount of deep breaths or silent mantras prepared me for the strong hurt all over her face.

“Mom,” I squeaked, anguish throttling me. “I swear it’s not like that. It was just supposed to be me, Jacob and Alicia. She sprung the planner on us.” When she didn’t look convinced I told her the whole truth. “We wanted nothing to do with her until a few weeks ago. She’s been against our relationship, but she apologized and she’s been trying to start over. The thing is, her version of ‘I’m sorry’ includes taking over.” I fell back against the seat. “Jacob and I haven’t even talked about what we want for our big day. Nothing has been decided.”

Her voice was unsure and barely above a whisper. “So you wouldn’t plan anything and keep me out?”

I unbuckled my seat belt and threw my arms around her. Sure, it was awkward and surprise kept her from hugging me back right away, but once she took me in, stroking my back like she did when I was little, everything was forgotten. Despite our faults and issues, she was my mom and I was her daughter.

I moved back, sniffling as she wiped her eyes with her hands. “I know we’ve been at odds since you came back from Venice, so I just thought...”

It was pretty obvious what she thought and not nearly as ludicrous as it should have been. We had been kinda...distant. It started with her unauthorized press conference at the house, was exacerbated by the whole Cade thing when she met Jacob, and it reached a fever pitch at the engagement dinner. It hadn’t even crossed my mind to ask for her input about the wedding. On one hand I thought that was because I was still trying to figure out a way to talk to Jacob about it, but that was just an excuse. I didn’t call and ask for her input because I was still a little miffed about where we stood.

I finger combed my curls away from my face, looking down. “I guess I haven’t completely forgiven you for all the things that have happened.” I winced, expecting her to rip me a new one and tell me to get over it, but she just gave me a nod.

“And you shouldn’t, until you’re ready.” She was rolling her shoulders back, stepping back into her take-charge persona. “I should respect you. I should have respected you all along and we might have been going dress shopping today instead of crying in a parking garage.”

I cracked a smile. “Jacob and I should probably decide what kind of wedding we want before we do any dress shopping.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “You haven’t talked about your wedding?”

“Nope,” I confirmed, twitching a shoulder. “He knows about my dream thing thanks to Meg, but I don’t know about his or what he wants.”

“Still want to do something small and beach-y?” she winked.

My cheeks heated. The only thing that kept me from dying on the spot when Megan revealed my dream wedding was the fact that the only proof ended with her. I’d have to clear that stuff out of my desk the next time I was at the house.

“I’m not worried about the beach part. The small part is what’s important to me.”

“I’m sure Jacob would be understanding,” she said reassuringly. “You should have heard the conversation your father and I had.

—I want to do it at a church. Something big and dramatic.

—Okay.

End of story,” she finished with a chuckle.

I smiled weakly. Besides the fact that my dad usually gave into my mom about most things, it wasn’t that surprising that he just went along with it. But I didn’t want Jacob to shrug and just say whatever I say goes. I wanted him to
want
to do something special. Something romantic that we could both look back on years later and remember how special it was. Uniquely us. Something we could build forever on.

Mom cocked her head, her expression soft as she studied me. “You want him to be involved.”

I nodded.

“And you want his mother to be un-involved.”

“Well, maybe not completely...” That was a bald-faced lie. I cleared my throat and tried honesty on for size. “Yes. I don’t want her involved.”

She settled in her seat. “And I’m guessing you're nervous about having that conversation with Jacob?”

I nodded a second time.

She let out a ‘hmmm’, nodding slowly. “Having uncomfortable conversations is part of being in a successful relationship. Especially if it’s regarding something like this that you can’t take back. I’m assuming you just wanna do this once,” she said with a hint of teasing in her voice.

There was more to this than she knew. Like the reasons we fell out with Alicia. Why I still didn’t want her to be a part of the planning process, even after her apology. I had a feeling Mom wasn’t her biggest fan already and that would just fuel the fire, so I kept her in the dark and managed a, ‘You’re right’.

I could tell she felt better after getting the planning stuff issue off her chest and I felt better now that there wasn’t a cloud of awkwardness hanging over our lunch date. But there were other things in the back of my mind that kept me from completely relaxing, completely letting go as she started talking about all the stores we could go to and look for dresses to suit any wedding.

I’d talked to Megan and now my mother. I had to stop putting it off and talk to the one person that really mattered.

Jacob.

****

W
ear the little black dress, no bra, panties in your purse.

I didn’t ask any questions, like why I was cramming a pair of underwear in between my cell and wallet. I was just elated that he was back—and had something planned.

I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed when I saw how busy the private terminal was. I thought his late arrival would buy a little privacy. A little time.

Maybe Megan was right about the rose colored glasses, I scolded myself. The bustle was nonexistent compared to the regular terminal. I had nothing to complain about but I still found myself staring at each attendant, forcing away the annoyance in favor of a bright smile. Whatever Jacob had planned was sure to break all kinds of rules and I figured niceness would make the awkwardness easier to swallow if they walked in on something.

It could be all in your head after all.
He hadn’t promised me anything. He could be testing me, pushing me and making me squirm until we got home and we could make up for what I was sure was the longest week of my life.

Without Jacob things didn’t feel right, I knew he was in London on business and I could tell how anxious he was to come home to me, but that didn’t make our bed any less lonely. And even though I knew he would be deplaning any minute now, it didn’t make my anxiety level relax. I wouldn’t relax until I could touch him. Until my hands could travel down his lapel, to his belt buckle-

I blinked, heat making every part of me hot and bothered. I was all but panting, clawing my clothes off so he could see what he did to me. Just how ready I was.

An older man was staring at me strangely, almost like he could see right through my clothes; see the gears turning in my head, so I looked away before I could blush and confirm his suspicions.

When I saw a familiar face, the sides of my mouth stretched up a few inches. The glow of recognition colored her pale features and she returned the smile, moving in my direction.

She extended her hand. “Miss Montgomery!”

I shook it heartily with a laugh. “Leila.” The ‘Miss Montgomery’ stuff was awkward as her handing over the envelope when we met. The envelope that contained concise then ridiculous instructions.

Remove your bra and panties prior to boarding.