Cora Carmack - Keeping Her

“Guess.”

“Man, did Eileen give you some of her super powers?”

“Rowland,” I snapped.

“I don’t know, ten.”

“Ten?”

Garrick had ten ex-­girlfriends here.

Garrick had ten ex-­girlfriends before he’d even gone to college?

And that was just the ones who’d showed up here. No telling how many more there were.

Hey, Universe? Think you could take a break on the whole raining-­down-­shit-­on-­Bliss thing? I’d appreciate it.

I stood to go back to the bathroom when Garrick stepped into the room. “There you are. I was a little worried my mother had killed you and was hiding the body.”

I didn’t laugh.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I started to nod when Graham answered, “She’s feeling sick. And she might have just met Kayleigh. And Rowland has a big mouth.”

“Jesus.”

He reached a tentative hand out to touch my shoulder.

“On a scale of one to ten, how angry are you?”

I pressed a hand to my temple, where a dull throb was beginning to form, and said, “Tired.”

Rowland said, “Oh, well that’s good.”

I heard a thwack that I guessed was Graham smacking him upside the head.

Garrick laced our fingers together, and kissed the back of my hand. “Come on. We can go ahead and go to bed for the night. It’s a bit early, but we can blame the jet lag. No one will miss us.”

Only the ten ex-­girlfriends here to get him back. Yeah, I was totally good with going to bed early.

I said good-­bye to Rowland and Graham, and wished Rowland luck at landing one of the exes. Then I let Garrick lead me out of the sitting room, and toward the staircase that wound up from the dining room.

His mother intercepted us just before we got to the stairs. “Where are you two going?”

“Bliss isn’t feeling well. And we’re both still adjusting to the schedule. We’re going to retire early. I think we’ve seen the majority of the ­people you care about us seeing.”

I didn’t look her in the eye, scared she would be able to read my mind with her freaky Slytherin stare.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I have the guest room all set up for her.”

Garrick tightened his grip on our luggage, and maneuvered around his mother and onto the first ­couple steps.

“That’s not going to happen, Mum. Her luggage is already upstairs, and we’re not accustomed to sleeping apart.” I blanched. If he said that to my parents, he would be staring down a shotgun. “We’ll be in my room.”

I let myself glance at his mother. She took a deep breath, and then her eyes met mine. Despite feeling miserable, I squared my shoulders and raised my eyebrows in a look that I hoped said, I told you so.

As long as it didn’t say, I totally lied to you and might actually be pregnant after all.

I followed Garrick up the stairs, still trying to wrap my head around this evening. Should I tell him? What if I was just remembering wrong? I didn’t want to freak him out over nothing.

I should just wait. I’d keep thinking back. Maybe I’d forgotten something or was remembering the days wrong. Or I could go buy a test.

Yes. That’s what I should do . . . to be certain.

I was so eager to brush my teeth that I didn’t even say anything to Garrick before I retreated into the adjoining bathroom. And maybe I would just check one more time to make sure I hadn’t started in the last ten minutes.

Garrick knocked on the door a few minutes later, and who would have ever thought I’d be willing my period to start?

His voice was soft, tentative. “Are you okay, love?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. I’ll be out in just a second.”

I took a deep breath.

There was no reason to panic yet. I’d told Eileen that I was an adult, and it felt good to stand up to her. To say that and actually mean it. It was especially important that I act like one now. Because if I was . . . if we were pregnant, there was a lot more at stake than a visit to meet the parents and a stupid broken vase.

So tomorrow I would get a pregnancy test. ­People did that all the time. And it came back negative all the time. Tonight I just needed to put it out of my mind and get some rest. I would only make myself sick again worrying about it.

The bathroom door squeaked as it opened, and Garrick turned from where he was changing clothes. He was just sliding a pair of pajama pants up over his hips, and if that wasn’t the perfect way to clear my thoughts, I didn’t know what was.

Garrick

BLISS STOOD FRAMED in the bathroom door, and I was at a loss for how to act. I had no idea how things had gone with my mum or afterward. All I knew was that she was quiet. Too quiet. And as much as I didn’t want her to be feeling ill, I hoped that that’s all it was about.

“How are you feeling?”

She crossed her arms over her stomach and said, “Okay. I think it was just . . . a long day. And it got to me. I’m fine now.”

“And my mother?”

“Should be a Disney villain.”

I exhaled a laugh. Even sick and stressed she was . . . remarkable.

“But that was okay, too?”

After a torturous moment, she nodded. “I think so. We came to an understanding.” That sounded ominous. “She invited me to lunch the day after tomorrow.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“That means it went more than okay. It went well.”

A small smile blossomed across her face. What was that science theory? Every action has an equal and opposite reaction? Seeing her smile lightened me. She anchored my thoughts, recentered my focus, balanced my life. And I needed that . . . desperately. Being back here . . . it was strange. I was struggling to walk that line between being polite and friendly, and falling back into my old ways.

“Now about these exes . . .”

Speaking of old ways.

“Exes?”

“Oh yes. Rowland estimated there were about ten in attendance.”

Goddamn it, Rowland.

I closed my eyes to resist the urge to go downstairs and mangle him.

“I’m sure he was exaggerating.”

The arms crossed over her stomach raised to cross over her chest, and she looked so deliciously bossy. Couldn’t we just skip this part and get on to what we’d planned earlier?

“Do you have that many exes here in London?”

I wracked my brain for a way that this conversation wouldn’t be disastrous.

“I don’t know that exes is the right word.”

“So they weren’t all relationships? What . . . just sex?”

I grimaced. Guess we were cutting to the chase then. I didn’t so much like this bold side of her when it was directed at me.

“Bliss . . . I was a right prick when I lived here. You would have hated me. My parents were not so good at the parenting aspect of life. They gave me money and a long leash, and like a stupid teenage boy, I took advantage of it. Often. Things are so beyond different now that that feels like a different life. A different person. And it was, really. When I left London, it was a rude awakening to live life outside this bubble of money and influence and tradition. But it was good for me. I grew up. I found something I really love, which led to finding someone I really love. If there were girls from my past here tonight, I didn’t notice them. They don’t matter. Nothing about this place matters at all in comparison to you.”

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, surveying me. There was just a hint of a tear shining in the corner of her eyes, then she closed her eyes and shook her head. “It’s impossible to be mad at you. This is setting a dangerous precedent for our relationship.”

That was a good sign.

I stepped forward and settled my hands on her hips. “I like that precedent.”

Her hands came up to my chest. “I know where you get it from. Your charm. Your father joins you and James Bond as a smooth-­talking Englishman. He was really nice about the vase thing.”

I groaned. “He is a smooth talker, yes. But don’t let him fool you. He’s not nearly as nice as he pretends to be.”

She traced her fingers along my jaw and pulled my face down toward her. “What does that mean?”

I shook my head. “Nothing you need to worry about. We just have different priorities is all. Business and money and class always come first to him.” I laced my fingers at the back of her neck and grazed her jaw with my thumbs. “I may have inherited some things from him, but not that. You will always come first. Our family will always be my primary concern.”

Her eyes were wide and glassy, and I didn’t know if that look was because of something I said, or just the long day getting to her again.

She said, “It’s funny how children end up being so different from their parents.”

“It’s funny how we managed to grow into reasonable ­people despite our crazy parents.”

She swallowed and laughed once. “Right. How does that happen?”

I pulled her into my arms, laying my cheek against her head. Her hair smelled sweet and calming, like lavender.

“Let’s go out tomorrow. I’ll show you around the city. I just need a break from this house.”

“Sure. That sounds great. I need to run to the store anyway. I forgot a few things.”

I kissed her forehead. “Like what? We might have whatever it is.”

She pulled back. “Oh, it’s nothing important. Just some little things.”

She went to her suitcase on the floor and bent to gather her pajamas.

I stepped up behind her. “You sure you’re not feeling sick anymore?”