Pure Lust Vol. 4 (8 page)

But it didn’t come. After taut, heavy seconds ticked away and there were no more pictures, I said, “Flynn?”

My throat was dry and raspy.

“We’re done.”

He was on the far side of the room. I tore the ribbon from my eyes just in time to see him disappear into the bathroom without another word.

I was already dressed when he emerged, my hands still trembling slightly. This had been a really bad idea. I glanced at him. His hair looked oddly damp, as if he’d been splashing water on his face, and I quickly looked away, not wanting to meet that penetrating blue. I went back to scrolling through the pictures. He’d taken so many.

“Here.” He held out his hand for the camera. “I’ll load them on the computer. It’s quicker that way.”

“You don’t need…”

He just continued to wait so I shrugged and turned it over. I would feel better seeing. Or maybe not. I still wasn’t sure.

Posing naked was so far outside my comfort zone and I ended up holding my breath as I waited for the images to load. Very few actually showed me naked though. I’d read enough romance and seen enough of these sort of covers to know that even the ones where I was naked, the nudity could easily be obscured.

“They’re beautiful,” I said, my voice husky.

“Easy to take good pictures when you’ve got a good model,” Flynn said with a self-deprecating shrug. He bent over a black portfolio and I watched as he scrawled his name on a check. The sound of paper tearing seemed terribly loud and he turned, shoving it into my hand. “Here. You did good work.”

Mute, I nodded and continued to eye the images, seeing them in a different light now. I wasn’t just naked in them, crazy as that sounded. It seemed as though he’d pulled hidden secrets out of me, unknown desires. Things I wouldn’t let myself look at.

And now the whole world would see them.

Now Flynn could see them.

“Thank you,” I said abruptly. Then, before he could see anything else, I hurriedly grabbed my things and left.

This had been a mistake. I’d needed the money and I wasn’t sorry I’d done it, but this was the last time.

Once Edward and I got back from our honeymoon, I’d find a job. A real one. I’d feel better about spending Edward’s money if it was actually our money, and it would only be our money if I was doing something to contribute, no matter how small that amount was.

There was one thing I wouldn’t be doing though. I wouldn’t be working with Flynn anymore.

No way in hell.

Chapter 9

Mind made up, I felt more focused and steadier as I spent the next few hours shopping with my newly earned money. Once I was done with the dress and Edward’s gift, I’d split the rest between my credit cards and give myself some breathing room there.

It wasn’t long before I found the perfect dress for a small, intimate wedding and if it was wrong of me to take absolute delight in showing it to nobody, then, well…I was wrong. I was tired of having to check in with everybody about everything.

I’d been the middle child of six and the good kid. My parents had been far from neglectful, but I’d taken care of myself a lot as a child. Then I’d moved here and hadn’t needed to be accountable to anyone but myself. My parents had known I’d keep my grades up to maintain my scholarship and my professors had appreciated having a self-motivated student. Kendra and I had shared an apartment and let each other know where we were going out of common courtesy, but I’d never felt like I’d needed to report to her. I’d taken my freedom for granted and lately, I felt like I was being smothered.

Edward texted me three times during the day, just being his solicitous self, but each time, I was tempted to just ignore him, which made me feel bad. It wasn’t that I hated hearing from him, but these weren’t texts about his day or just sweet little messages to let me know he was thinking about me. Each one made me feel like a child having a parent check up on them. It might’ve been unfair, but it was how I felt.

I
did
ignore the calls and texts from Claire. That didn’t make me feel bad at all. In fact, it gave me quite a bit of vindictive pleasure.

On my last stop of the afternoon, I collapsed into one of the padded chairs and gave Honey a grateful smile when she brought me a tall glass of sweet tea. The taste of peaches exploded on my tongue and I could have kissed her. People up north just couldn’t make it like someone from the south.

“I needed that,” I said, sighing happily.

“I could tell.” She sat down across from me, smiling as she lifted her own glass to her lips. “You look like you’ve been running around in circles, child, chasing your own tail.”

“Close.”

And tomorrow, I’d be retracing my steps, going to try on the dress again. It had to be let out at the bust and taken in at the waist, but thanks to my height and some heels, it didn’t need hemmed. The rush job was costing a pretty penny, but the dress was worth it. I was going to wear the shoes I’d originally bought for October so that was one thing off my mind. I figured they’d be broken in for the big ceremony that way. Mentally going through the to-do list, I didn’t realize I’d zoned out until Honey snapped her fingers in front of my face.

With a jolt, I came back to myself and gave her a sheepish smile. “Sorry. My brain is scattered from here back to Manhattan.”

“And beyond, I’d imagine.” She propped her chin on her hand and stared at me. “So why the sudden rush to get married?”

“I…” With a frown and shrug, I focused back on the glass of tea. I could feel her watching me and I had an idea that those big, dark eyes of hers saw pretty deep too. “It’s just sheer chaos and I’m fed up with it. It’s supposed to be the happiest day of my life and I just…”

The words lodged inside me, stuck and refusing to come out. I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit it to her, a total stranger, especially when I hadn’t been able to admit it to those closest to me. Hell, I wasn’t so sure I’d admitted it to myself.

“If it’s the happiest day of your life, why do you look like somebody is all but dragging you up the aisle, honey?”

I bit my lip. After a moment, I shot her a look, then shook my head. “It’s not…I’m not…”

“You’re not happy. I can tell you that.” Honey pushed back from the small table and went to grab a tray. As she brought it over to me, she spoke again, “I’ve had probably a hundred brides come through that door at this point. Some of them—well, most of them—are stressing just like you are, but they’re happy too. You’re not happy, and before you take that walk, you might want to have a good look at the reason why.”

***

“You’re very quiet tonight.” Edward brushed his fingers down my hand.

With a vague smile, I shrugged. “Yeah, I’m thinking about the wedding and everything left to get done before Saturday.”

“It won’t be long.” He patted my hand as he took a sip of his wine. “Mother is having the time of her life taking over the plans for October. This really was the perfect fix.”

“Great.” I managed to hide my instinctive scowl. The woman would turn it into a carnival of etiquette and stiff politeness. Nobody would have any fun and I’d hate it. Pretty much the only consolation I had was that I loved my dress and I’d be able to eat the cake. Considering it was supposed to be a celebration, that didn’t seem like much.

He leaned over and kissed me, his lips warm against my cheek. “Saturday night, we’ll be up at the lodge in the Catskills, and we’ll have several days to ourselves. Then we’ll come back here and you can relax, just take it easy, and let Mom do her thing.”

Take it easy
.

As he picked up his fork and knife to cut into his steak, I brooded into my wine. When we got back, I wasn’t going to take it easy. I was going to find a job. It wasn’t until Edward gave me a strange look that I realized I’d said it out loud.

Slowly, he put his utensils down and studied me. “A job. Whatever for, Gabriella?”

“Well.” I took a drink of my wine, then another as I gathered my thoughts. I hadn’t planned on needing to explain myself. “My current job is almost over. The freelance writing thing isn’t turning out the way I expected. I want something steadier. I’d like to do the same thing, day in and day out. And I haven’t given up on the idea of becoming a screenwriter, developing my own TV series, that sort of thing.”

“But sweetheart, there’s no need for you
to work.” He sounded as puzzled as he looked.

“I want to work.” I said it firmly.

“Why?”

Why? Baffled, I shoved back from the table and moved over to the sidebar where the open bottle of wine waited. I topped off my glass before I even attempted to respond. “Because I don’t fancy the idea of spending my days just languishing around a house while a man provides for me. That’s not who I am, Edward.”

“Don’t be silly.” A hint of impatience threaded through his voice, and again I was reminded of a parent speaking to a child. “You don’t have to languish anywhere. My mother is rarely home. She’s constantly getting involved in charities and various causes.”

“Like taking over my wedding?” The words popped out before I could stop them and immediately, I wanted to kick my own ass. I struggled to keep my temper in check. I hated how patronizing he was sounding and I had to remind myself that we were still learning about each other. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. But dammit, Edward, I’m not your mother. I’m not a society wife. And if you would recall, you told me she ran Bouvier for years until you were ready to take over. She was the consummate business woman.”

“She had to be!”

His voice echoed through the room, surprising us both. It was the first time I’d ever seen him anything but calm and collected. As I stared at him, he turned away and braced his hands on the back of a chair. His shoulders strained against the material of his shirt as he took in one deep, steady breath, then another. Four breaths later, he turned to look at me.

“She did what was necessary for the company, for the family, but it’s not necessary for you to work, Gabriella. I can provide for you.”

“I don’t need that.” He just couldn’t see it and I didn’t know how to make him see it. A headache pulsed right behind my eyes and I pressed the heel of my hand against my forehead in a desperate attempt to ward off the pain.

It didn’t help.

I sank back into my chair, staring at the food I no longer wanted. I’d only eaten a couple of bites of the steak, maybe two bites of my potato. Now the thought of eating made my stomach churn. “I’ve been taking care of myself a long time, Edward. I like taking care of myself and I like working.”

“You hated your job as an assistant,” he reminded me.

“No…” I took my time answering, because he wasn’t exactly right, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. “It wasn’t the job that I hated, per se. I hated my boss. There were people around that I liked and I learned a lot. I quit because I was stuck in that particular spot and I wasn’t going to move up. I hated that. Just because I was stuck there doesn’t mean I’ll be stuck with the next one.”

Hearing him approach, I looked up. He sat down in the chair in front of me and reached out, taking my hands in his.

“This matters to you,” he said slowly.

“Yeah.” Shrugging, I twined our fingers and lifted them so I could kiss the back of his hand. “I went to college, I moved here, all of that because I wanted to pursue a career. I want to be a screenwriter, Edward. It’s been a dream of mine for almost my entire life.”

“Okay then.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “If that’s your dream, then you should continue to chase it. We all dream about the impossible, Gabriella.”

For a moment, the weight in my chest had started to lift. Then those last few words registered and the weight came down again, even heavier now.
Dream about the impossible…?

Chapter 10

“I think he just expects me to turn into a clone of his mother. Attending charity events and shopping. Making somebody’s life miserable,” I muttered the last part. Phone propped against my shoulder, I ran down the list of the people we’d invited this weekend, comparing it to the people who’d RSVP’d. Small or not, there were a few select people Edward had insisted we invite. They might not come, but we had to invite them. Still, the wedding would be attended by less than thirty, which was a great deal smaller than the people who’d already confirmed attendance to the October ceremony.

On the other end of the line, Kendra was oddly quiet. She’d been my roommate since I’d moved to New York and quiet wasn’t a word I’d ever used to describe her. Gorgeous, definitely. Stubborn. Full of life. Opinionated. Yes, all those things. Quiet? Not so much.

Still, I didn’t try to analyze it. I had enough on my mind already. “I mean, really, do you see me sitting around and discussing whether or not we should have a five hundred dollar plate dinner or a golf scramble to fund the next Meals on Wheels fundraiser? Smiling politely at someone like Stacia Vanderbelt, all the while knowing she was going to tear me to shreds behind my back. I’m all for supporting great causes, but that’s not me, Kendra.”

“No…I know.” The tension in her voice was so thick, I could have cut it with a knife.

I stopped what I was doing, eyes narrowing. “Why do I hear a
but
in your voice?”

“You don’t. I know you’re not into the stuff his mom enjoys. It’s just...” She sighed. “Shit, Gabs. He wants to take care of you and you act like that’s a bad thing.”

For a second, I didn’t even know how to answer that. I was too stunned by the fact that she’d gone from telling me I was making a huge mistake rushing into this marriage and how she was looking out for me, to defending behavior that I’d thought for sure a feminist like her would despise.

I struggled to keep my voice calm. “Didn’t you hear anything I said? I already said it’s sweet of him to be willing. That’s not what I’m upset about.”

“Then what are you upset over?” Her voice came out harsh.

What the hell was her problem? I snapped back at her. “I’m upset that he doesn’t get I’m serious about my career as a writer. Would you like it if you were in my position and he patted you on the head and implied that your desire to be taken seriously as a model was just chasing an impossible dream?”