He leans in, kissing my forehead. “Thank you for doing this. You have no idea how excited she’ll be—they’ll be.” I smile wide, loving the funny look on his face. He’s as worried about his family as I am, but he’s lying to himself about it. Bringing home an orphan to Virginia is a bad idea; ’round here people need family to prove who they are. He’s lucky I love him. Who am I kidding? I’m lucky he loves me. Being with him smooths over the rough edges and plugs the holes and softens the gaps. I am an actual person with him.
My whole body fills with a warm glow until he winces as he pulls away from the stop sign finally and says, “But there are a couple of things we need to discuss, about my family.”
I cock an eyebrow. “We are almost there, aren’t we? You saved telling me stuff until we got here?”
He takes a deep breath, making a turn onto another street. “It’s not so bad, just little things like they are richer than I might have mentioned, and we have to sleep in separate rooms. Or she’ll think you’re easy.”
“I am easy,” I mutter through bared teeth.
He laughs like he doesn’t believe it, but I don’t have the same regard for sex many other girls do. I don’t see the rules and boundaries they do. His other words flit about my brain. “Richer than you might have mentioned?” I can’t believe this is happening.
“Right.” He laughs again, weakly and sort of like a girl might. A nervous girl. A nervous schoolgirl. “Just a bit. Like the top of the food chain in a country-club family.”
“So they are crazy rich and we have to sleep apart? But we’re engaged.” I lift the huge ring weighing my finger down. Of course it’s huge; he’s probably used a fucking trust fund to pay for the fucking thing. Fuck. I need to stop cussing so much! Shit!
“But we are not married. There would be a scandal for my poor mother if anyone ever knew that we shared a bed. There would be talk of the vengeful slut from the North who befouled my poor mother’s house. And of course she would have to let them slander you, out of respect for me. Trust me, this is not where you draw attention to the fact you’re a Yankee.”
“You just said befouled? You’re getting weird. And you Southerners do realize we’re all American, right?” Friggin’ Southerners with their War of Northern Aggression bullshit. I am suddenly terrified of this woman.
“You’re licking your nose again.” He smiles, nodding at me like this whole thing is nothing. “Stop being nervous. This is why I never warned you; you’d be half mad by now if I had. You’ll be fine, just try not to flash your Gene Simmons tongue at my parents. Licking one’s nose is a bit circus freak for them, especially with the eyes being different colored. All you need is to flutter them the way you do and lick your nose, and my mother will pass out.”
“I’ll remember that.” I sigh. I want to say he’s a circus freak, but I don’t. I know what I am and what he is. At least I thought I knew what he was.
He reaches for me, holding my hand. “We just can’t share a bed. It’s no big deal. And you should know they have some quirks, just not licking noses or different-colored eyes. I can’t even explain it, you just have to see it.”
Quirks? Licking my nose is a quirk? It’s a nervous habit. I sit back in my seat and send a quick text to one of the secretaries Rory and I use to ensure we have everything we need.
He turns out of the snooty-looking area, making my breathing easier as he heads along a long and winding road. I start to relax until I realize he has driven to an area with estates and houses so big I can’t breathe again. They look like the White House.
“Do they own a hotel?” I ask, actually scared of the answer. His laugh does nothing to soothe me.
My insides tighten, and I send a text to Angie demanding to know why she didn’t warn me of this.
How could you send me to the South and not tell me his parents are ESTATE RICH? You suck!
Her reply appears quickly.
You know I love you, but there was no warning you. It’s big, like hotel big. Expect a huge group of people to greet you too, like forty. Use your best manners and act like a demure orphan, the sweet and demure orphan I know is in there!
I choke. Demure? Shit!
“You okay?” He sounds worried.
I nod and shrug in a jerky movement and look out the side window until my phone buzzes again.
Forget them, remember you’re a killer with uncanny instincts and ex-military and exceptionally badass! Just keep looking around the room, figuring out ways to kill them.
That text makes me smile, so I look like an idiot when we drive up to a gate with boys peeping over the ledge. Not real boys, mind you, but cast-iron boys, naked cast-iron boys. The weird smile stays on my face, frozen, as I try to understand the naked peeping boys.