Page 167 of Savior
One Month Later
Thelittle historical riverfront city is quaint and lovely, declaring itself the Original Washington, established 1776. The catering hall my parents rented out for our little family gathering, is in an old Plantation style mansion, walking distance from the boardwalk along the river. The historical plaque beside the main double doors on the wrap around porch, indicates this home was built in 1776, itself. And though I’m standing outside on the wide porch, waiting for Dean, I can hear the soft, classical music playing inside.
It's been difficult to look forward to this little soiree my parents and sister are throwing us. Between the trouble Legion and his CDMC seem hell bent on wreaking, and the fact that I still haven’t said a word to my parents about being pregnant, my nerves have been all over the place. I’m sure my hormonal swings aren’t helping matters, either.
I’m only standing alone on the porch a few moments, before I hear Dean pull up across the street on Serene. I turn to watch him make his way over to me, jogging across the street and up the wide staircase to stand before me.
“Wow...” He says, looking me over with a mixture of desire and adoration. I slip my arm under his as we step closer to the front door. He had an important meeting with the directors of one of the safe houses the MC is hoping to work with again, and had to meet me here tonight. His presence beside me, already eases some of my nerves.
“Do I look alright?” I ask, glancing up at my devastatingly handsome fiancé, all decked out in a sharp, black suit. He buzzed his facial scruff down to a five o’clock shadow, and trimmed the sides of his hair, slicking back the top, though loosely.
Dean looks down at me, scraping his bottom lip with his teeth as he slides his jaw forward. “You look so good, all I want to do is rip that dress off of you.”
“Don’t talk like that.” I whisper. “And you’re not allowed to rip any more of my dresses!”
“They can’t hear me.”
“I’m not concerned about them. You’re going to wake up my hormones.” I grumble. He grins. “With everything that’s been going on, my nerves have been keeping them at bay.”
Dean lets out a remorseful sigh. “I’ve noticed… I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, not wanting to think about Legion, bloody eyeballs in ice, or what became of either of them. Things have been quiet on the CDMC’s front. I’m trying to take it as a positive. At least, pretend it is… I can tell from Dean’s demeanor over the last few weeks, it’s only the calm before the storm…
“Do I lookpregnant?” I ask, another worry to add to the growing list. “Do I look like I’m trying to hide something?”
I admittedly went all out with my look tonight. I even returned the dress I got with my sister, in exchange for something I hope hides my six month baby bump better. It has gotten bigger, though nowhere near as big as I expected it would be at this point. I’m still worried they will realize before I get to tell them.
I’m wearing a long, black gown made of tiered tulle, trimmed in black satin. It flares out just below the bust, concealing our little secret. The bust is tight and sparkly, off the shoulders and really show cases my cleavage. I know my mother is going to take issue with the amount of boob I’ve got on display. My breasts definitely got the pregnancy memo, and have increased in size. Paired with my smokey eyes and red lipstick, it should be enough of a distraction. Anything to pull attention away from my midsection and keep this secret, just a little bit longer, until I can tell them after this event. Even if it means suffering through my mother’s glaring disapproval.
“You look fucking gorgeous, baby. Like a little gothic cupcake.” Dean smiles, trying to reassure me.
“I suppose that’s better than a lacy white seahorse.” I sigh, looking back through the doors into the mansion. Everyone must be in the ballroom, as there is no one in the grand foyer. “I wonder if this place is haunted?” I say, attempting to lighten the mood as I peek up at him.
Dean lets out a slight scoff, staring straight ahead through the large, oval glass windows of the double doors. His hand touches mine, which I have wrapped in the crook of his arm. “Everything is. People. Places. Nothing is without a past.”
“Are you nervous?”
He glances down at me and cocks a brow, giving me that crooked trademark smile of his. “I’ve been in stickier situations, doll.”
“I believe you.” I tell him, looking back through the windows in time to see my mother heading towards the door to let us in. She’s wearing a long, champagne colored sequin dress, and I immediately wonder if my gothic cupcake gown is pretty enough.
I take a breath and let it out slow. “Are you ready to run this gauntlet again?” I ask Dean, unsure now if I’m ready myself.
“Born ready.” He confidently replies.
“You look… different.” My mother comments, eyeing me with suspicion as we come to stand in the grand foyer beside the large staircase.
Not pretty. Not lovely. Not even nice. Just, different…
I attempt to stave off a mini panic attack by focusing on the opulent carvings of giant pineapples on the banisters of the grand staircase, accented with goldleaf, as if there’s nothing different about me at all…
I can feel her staring at me, and I try not to clutch Dean’s arm any tighter than I already am. Maybe I should have told her our news over the phone, before this little family gathering? Given her a little time to process the pregnancy news. It is, after all, her biggest fear. God forbid one of her daughters got knocked up before she was even married off. I’m not even promised to a man she approves of. This is not going to go well.
As if Dean can sense my growing nerves, he rubs my hand, distracting me from my spiraling thoughts. Reminding me, that this is our call to make. That I really don’t want to tell her before this party. I want to tell her after, once everyone is gone and there isn’t a huge scene to be made in front of an audience. This is our choice.
“Of course, she looks different.” Dean beams a razor-sharp smile back at her. “I thought it impossible myself, seeing as she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. But Vanna gets more and more lovely, every single day.”
I force myself to keep the smile plastered on my face. I don’t think she picked up on his sly words. And though I know he meant them genuinely, Dean’s need to play with fire between the lines of what he says, especially to those that annoy him, has my anxiety rocketing up a few notches.
