I laughed again, lowering my eyes to his beard and the hidden scratch left by that—that—that harpy. The next time I saw her, I’d scratch her eyes out. So much for violence not being an answer. . .
“I don’t care whether you’re in a suit or not. It’s no big deal.” I shrugged away the dark turn of my thoughts and his concerns about wearing a suit.
“Jethro left some time ago to pick something up for me, so I’ll be suitably attired.” His tone was both officious and droll, a cute combo.
“That's very funny.” I smiled appreciatively at his pun.
“Yes, I know. But Jenn, all this—” He reached for my wrist and lowered my hand; this time he was the one to catch my eyes. “Why are we doing this?”
“What?”
“The fussy tableware, the suits, the guest list filled with acquaintances. We don't need all that. We could’ve just had a small engagement party at the Winston house. Then your father—”
“I know we didn’t—don’t need it. But my momma, the staff here at the lodge, your family, they love us, and they want to show it. I was excited about tonight.”
He looked confused by my statement. “You were?”
“Yes, I was. I mean, not all the people I barely know. But what they did with the barn, everyone at the lodge pitched in to decorate, staying late and helping. They are excited. And your family helped too.”
“My family?”
“Shelly and her sculptures? Did you see the hearts? They’re beautiful. And Jess and Duane sending those fancy place settings over from England, brand-new for the lodge, and we’ll use them for the first time tonight. Sienna having a dress designed for me by one of her famous friends—and she designed my wedding dress. Billy arranging for us to use the governor’s silverware. It’s real old, special. Drew and Ashley arranging for those glass chandeliers to be flown in from a glass blower in Texas. Actually, Ashley did a lot. She’s responsible for the planning just as much as my momma, they did it together. Heck, Roscoe worked with Claire McClure to arrange the string quartet. Did you know that?”
“I—I did not know that,” he sputtered.
“He did. They did! Roscoe went to her with the idea and she made it happen, musicians she knows in Nashville. They drove all the way out here and my momma is putting them up at the lodge. Everyone is being so sweet, coming together to celebrate us and—so—I know we don’t need any of it, but it sure made me feel good, feel grateful that your family wanted to welcome me like this.”
Cletus’s confused frown persisted, and he stood from the counter, setting me to the side. Pacing away, he pushed his hands through his hair roughly. “Jethro didn’t seem to know.”
“Jethro has been pretty busy with Benjamin. I think he can be forgiven for not pitching in. I think Sienna said he’s getting about three hours of sleep these days. You know he doesn’t want a night nurse, and I guess I understand that, but—”
“I didn’t know either.”
“But isn’t it great?” I tracked him, bothered by his reaction.
“It is . . . great.”
I tossed the used cotton ball to the counter, irritated with Cletus’s continued agitation. “Then why do you sound so unhappy about it?”
“Because I had no idea it was happening!” In a rare demonstration of temper, Cletus’s voice rose.
He didn’t shout, didn’t yell, but it was an unmodulated, unintended display of feeling, something he never, ever did. Especially not with me. Even after being together for over a year. He was, for better or for worse, always controlled in my presence, his tone perpetually thoughtful and measured. Unless we were . . . well, having sex.
Intimacy, sex, making love seemed to be the only time Cletus allowed himself to let loose the reins he otherwise held with a white-knuckled grip, and not every time. Just sometimes. It drove me a little crazy.
I watched him now as he breathed out, seeming to shake himself. I remained silent because the thoughts running through my mind would likely sound absurd to anyone else. To me, Cletus was sexy as hell when his control slipped, when that edge entered his voice and the rough, sharp pieces of him were revealed. His eyes would narrow, flash, spark, and a gravel entered his voice, one that made my mouth dry and my tummy flip, made me chase my breath and my lungs squeeze.
I couldn’t explain it. It’s not that I wanted him yelling at me, or that I wanted him mad or frustrated. But I wanted uncontrolled . . . Passion? Desperation? Intensity? All three?
When I needed to rant and rave, I did with him. When I was angry or feeling desperate for his touch or frenzied because I missed him so badly, I showed it. But he rarely did. He stuffed it down, buried it, and that left me feeling oddly neglected.
I loved all of Cletus, was greedy for every part of who he was. This was a side he’d continued to keep hidden, only to ration out in bite-sized portions, and only in the bedroom, and only for a few minutes at a time. After, he’d put it away, high on a shelf out of my reach.
Requiring only a second to regain his slipped control, Cletus lifted his eyes, dimmed by forced calm and restraint, and spoke as though he measured each word with a mental ruler, “I’m sorry. It’s just that I have trouble with surprises, with feeling unprepared, and with crowds. Especially when I’m expected to—uh—perform in some way in front of people.”
I knew this, but it hadn’t been my intention to surprise him. “I don’t know what to say, Cletus. It’s not like we hid anything from you. You never asked about it, about the plans or how things were going. I honestly thought you knew.” He seemed to always know everything about everyone, sometimes before they did.
“I’ve been a little distracted,” he admitted, glancing to the side, an exceedingly small, wry smile tugging at the side of his mouth.
That made me blush, a hot surge of knowledge, a certainty as to what and who had distracted him, made my tummy flip.
He heaved out a breath, again shaking himself. “But, Jenn, as much as I appreciate what everyone did, if we’d kept tonight small and private, your father wouldn’t have had a chance to make a spectacle. Whatever the plans are for the wedding as of right now, we should rethink them in light of tonight’s events.”
That all sounded very reasonable, except—
“Nope. I’m not going to let my father’s behavior—what he does, or what he might do—dictate how I live my life. You helped me learn that.” Nor was I going to allow myself to mire in unhappiness now. Tonight was our night, dammit. My father was not going to ruin it and I refused to waste another moment thinking about him or Elena.
There. All done. Moving on.
Cletus grimaced, looking grumpy. “I suppose I did help you learn that.”
“And I was having a good time tonight. Sometimes it’s nice to get all dressed up. How many times do people get engaged? I only ever plan on getting engaged once.”
“That’s the right answer.” He looked considerably less grumpy until, abruptly, he frowned again. “Wait, Ash helped plan tonight?”
“Yes. Like I said, she and my mother basically planned it together. And they’re planning the wedding together.”
“What? How is this possible?”