“Blame Mom, not me,” I remind him. “And I’m not the one who wanted to get married. You guys forced it on me.”
“We didn’t force you to do shit,” Winston snaps.
I keep my mouth shut, not in the mood to fight over this. The moment the owner, Benny, sees us enter his store, he calls out to us, a giant smile on his face.
“Three Constantines in my store, what an honor!” he says, his focus entirely on Winston. “How are you, son?”
Winston grits his teeth, most likely hating how Benny just called him son. No other man was able to do that besides our father. “We’re wondering why we have to be fitted for new suits when all three of us already own tuxedos.”
“I don’t,” Keaton pipes up, earning a stare from the both of us. He shrugs his broad shoulders. “What, I don’t. I never wear ’em.”
“Not even to a school dance?” That’s how I got my first tux.
And we definitely don’t rent them. We don’t need to. We go to enough events amongst society to warrant owning one.
“Nope. And I’m not sucking up to rich assholes at charity events like you guys, so I’ve never needed one.” Keaton grins.
Benny completely ignores Keaton. “Your mother wanted the three of you to match. She’s excited for the wedding. She wants her sons to look their best.”
“You do realize he’s the groom.” Winston jerks his thumb in my direction, since Benny has been making eyes at Winston only since we walked in.
“My apologies.” Benny nods and bows toward me. “Are we ready to get sized? Shall the groom go first?”
“Definitely.” Winston shoves me toward Benny. Keaton laughs.
I glare at them, annoyed.
Benny first opens up a catalog to show me the tuxedos Mother wants us to wear, and yeah, it’s dope as hell, I can’t deny it. The moment I put the sample suit on, I feel like a fucking pimp, strutting out of the dressing room with my head held high, silently approving of the fit, despite how long the sleeves are on me.
“What do you think?” I hold my arms out for my brothers, standing proud.
Winston’s expression barely changes as he murmurs, “Nice.”
He returns his attention to his phone.
“Looks good,” Keaton agrees with a nod.
I saunter to the dais in front of the three-way mirror, standing on top of it as Benny brings out his measuring tape and gets to work. Winston’s head is bent as he taps away at his phone. Keaton gets a phone call and walks away to take it.
“Mother sent me a few of your engagement photos,” Winston says, gaze still glued on his phone.
I frown at my reflection in the mirror. “Why would she send them to you?”
“For my approval.” He lifts his head, his gaze meeting mine. “I keep tabs on every Constantine as best I can. And I am in charge of this deal.”
Love how my future has turned into a business deal.
“Did they meet your approval?” I snap, wincing when Benny accidently sticks my wrist with a pin.
“They’ll do.” He hesitates for only a moment, his focus on his phone once more. “Your bride-to-be is stunning.”
“She’s—something else. A little bitchy if you ask me.” Benny sticks me again, and I wonder if he did it on purpose for me calling her that. “Ow.”
“Sorry, sir.” He doesn’t sound very sorry at all, but at least has the decency to keep his head bowed.
“Not easy and always agreeable like you?” Winston asks.
“Yeah, no. You’d probably love her. She’s mean. Thinks I’m ridiculous.” I don’t know if I would go so far as to call her mean, but she’s not particularly pleasant either.
“She’s a Lancaster. They’re either mean spirited or crazy.” Winston shakes his head. “Do you two at least get along?”
“I would hope so, since they’re getting married,” Benny mutters to himself, but loud enough for me to hear him.
Winston is annoyed by his commentary. Minus the sticking-me-with-pins part, I find it amusing.
“I guess,” I say with a shrug, causing Benny to grumble with annoyance as a pin falls to the floor with a gentle ping. He swoops down to pick it up. “We have nothing in common.”
“Do you need to?”
“I mean, we’ll want to talk to each other.”
“Really? Well, I suppose not everyone gets what I have with my wife.” His expression turns thoughtful, the lucky son of a bitch. “Considering your situation, I would think your new wife is useful for looking beautiful on your arm in public and welcoming your dick into her mouth or pussy whenever you want to fuck her.” Winston casts Benny an evil glare, just daring him to say something.
The wise man keeps his mouth shut.
“I don’t want to fuck her,” I say, though the words feel like a lie.
I just can’t imagine fucking her.
Yeah, no. That feels like a lie, too.
I can imagine it. But I don’t see her being particularly agreeable. And I like my women sweet in bed. I’m not some sick, twisted fuck like my older brother.
I’ve heard the stories. Witnessed enough interaction between Winston and Ash to know they’re up to some kinky shit.
I can’t imagine doing one kinky thing with Charlotte. Not a one.
“Please. You want to fuck every pretty female you see.”
“Fuck off.” I scowl at my reflection in the mirror. “I’m not attracted to her.”
“Not at all?” I glance over at Winston to see him shaking his head. “You’ll need to be eventually.”
“Why?”
“She’s your wife. And the two of you will eventually have to make Caroline a grandmother,” Winston reminds me.
Benny chooses this moment to speak.
“How is your mother? She’s doing well, no?”
“Yes,” Winston bites out. “She is.”
I’m quiet while Benny finishes taking my measurements, my mind full of images of a…
Naked Charlotte?
An eager-to-touch-me-and-kiss-me Charlotte?
Yeah. I don’t see it. She’s hot, I can’t deny it. Those legs. The tits she was hiding. All that long blonde hair I want to wrap around my fist and give a firm tug.
She’d probably slap my face if I tried that.
“Look, you’re going to have to put on the performance of your life tomorrow night. Mother expressed concern over the engagement portfolio. Said your fiancée looked, and I quote, ‘wooden.’” He pauses. “And she’s right. Your bride-to-be looked scared to death in some of those photos. Like she’d burn if you touched her.”
“What do you expect?” I ask incredulously. “We don’t even know each other. Plus, she gets all weird when I put my hands on her. I think she has secrets.”
I remember what she almost told me yesterday. About the one guy and the torrid affair. I want more details.
Yet I also don’t want to know either.
Benny looks from me to Winston, and back to me again, yet he doesn’t say a word.
“You need to get to know her. Get her comfortable with you. By the wedding, I want her gazing at you like she can’t wait to wrap her lips around your dick again.”