Finding Our Reality (The Reality Duet #2)

Chapter 45

CRUTCH

I never really understood the suggestive meaning of ‘little black dress’ until Lulu walked down the stairs tonight. She’s wearing this sleeveless thing that subtly showcases her plump cleavage and blatantly showcases her mile-long longs. Her waves are piled high on top of her head, and her dangling pearl earrings draw attention to her neck, calling to me, making me want to mark her with a thousand hickeys to tell everyone she’s mine.

But I don’t have to do that.

I know she’s mine.

She’s wearing my ring.

But there is one thing I hate about tonight—she’s not fully My Lulu .

She’s the one I met on the back porch all those years ago. The one with the stiff back, squared shoulders, and nose poked high in the air. The Lulu who blandly talks about the weather and the stock market. The Lulu who fake-smiles and nods once when asked a question. That damn single nod used to drive me ape-shit crazy.

I ignore the mindless chatter of the buxom blonde in front of me and scan the crowd, searching for Lulu. My heart skips a beat when I see her in the corner of the room, chatting with a small group of people. Sensing me, she turns her head and immediately catches my eye. The gorgeous smile on her face fades the second the blonde reaches over and whispers in my ear. Lulu’s jaw tenses in anger, and her eye roll is so dramatic I fear she might faint. Good thing she isn’t close enough to actually hear what this woman just asked me.

There’s a very good possibility I could be arrested in at least ten states if I actually perform the action this stranger just suggested.

Lifting my eyebrows, I hold my left hand in front of her face, wiggling my ring finger. The black wedding band catches the light in just the right way. “Sorry. Married.”

Actually, I’m not sorry at all.

Biting her lip, the blonde shrugs and bats her fake eyelashes. I keep waiting for one to fall off and land in her champagne. “Doesn’t bother me if it doesn’t bother you.”

“It bothers his wife.” Lulu wraps a possessive hand around my bicep.

Sneaky little minx.

Scowling, the woman turns on her heels and walks away, searching for her next prey.

Chuckling under my breath, I slide my arms around her waist. “How long have you been waiting to say that line?”

She smirks. “Since I was seventeen and met you on a porch.” She shakes her head. “These women act like we’re at a bachelorette party.” She pulls away, slowly looking up and down my body, studying me. Her simple gaze makes me feel like a damn sexual warrior.

Snorting, she frowns. “And you.”

I throw my hands in the air, laughing. “What about me?”

“Do you have to look like that? Why couldn’t you dress like all the other men? You’re egging it on.”

“What are you talking about? You mean because I’m not wearing a suit jacket and tie? You know I hate those things.” I’m dressed in black slacks and white button-up shirt. Of course, the neck is unbuttoned, and I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows. It’s hot in here. What other choice did I have?

She plants her hands on her hips. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Mr. Let-Me-Show-You-My-Sex-Bucket-Forearms .”

“You like my forearms?”

She tries not to blush. Really, she does. “You know I do.”

It’s true. I do.

I can’t stand it. I gather her in my arms again, taking the opportunity to dance with her as the band plays a slow song from the stage. I kiss the soft line of her jaw. “My wife loves my forearms.”

She molds her body against mine, sighing contently. In her heels, we’re nearly eye to eye. Smiling, she lifts her hand from my shoulder and admires her wedding band. “I love it when you call me your wife.”

“That’s good. Because I love calling you my wife.” I look at my watch. “Best twenty hours of my life.”

“When can we make it official?” she asks.

It’s already official in my book. “As soon as you want. You just have to decide what kind of wedding you want.”

“Can we go to the courthouse on Monday?”

Hell yeah, we can. Instead of blurting that response, I just cock an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

Her lips pucker in thought. “Of course. Why?”

I shrug. “Not to drag up the past, but your wedding to Hudson was a quick courthouse thing. I wasn’t sure if you’d want the big, fancy, once-in-a-lifetime event.”

She immediately bursts out laughing. “Really? You want me to throw some huge, elaborate wedding and invite strangers? You think I want that?”

I shake my head. “No, actually I don’t. You never struck me as the bride-zilla type. I just didn’t wanna rob you of the choice. Because this will be the last wedding you will ever have, Lulu. I’m never letting you go.” I lean down and press my lips against hers. “You’re mine. For-fucking-ever.”

She licks her lips, licking mine in the process. “Never before. Never after.”

The song ends and another one immediately starts up. In the middle of the instrumental ballad, she starts giggling, piquing my interest. “What?”

“They’re gonna kill me. I never even called Aunt Teresa and Raylee to tell them you proposed.”

“They know.”

Her head lobs to the side. “Huh? You called them?”

“Well, I didn’t call to tell them I asked you today, but they knew it was coming. I asked Ray for his permission.”

Her eyes widen. “You did? You asked my uncle for my hand in marriage?”

“Of course, I did. Both him and Marcum.”

“What did they say?”

“They said no.”

Her mouth falls open in shock. “What?!”

I pinch her waist, teasing her. “I’m just kidding. Of course, they said yes.”

She smiles brightly. Whatever she is going to say is cut off by a young college-aged girl. “Excuse me, Ms. Hill?”

Lulu stops dancing and straightens her shoulders. “Yes.”

“We haven’t officially met. I’m Marissa, Dr. Bussman’s new receptionist. I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a little situation in the restroom.” She nods at a darkened hallway. “The servers’ restroom.”

“What situation?” I ask, not caring that she wasn’t speaking to me.

The girl steps closer, whispering. “It’s Kristie Vann. She’s asking for you.”

Lulu blinks. “What’s wrong? Is she injured?”

Marissa thins her lips and nervously rings her hands in front of her.

I growl in anger. “Is she drunk? High?”

Marissa looks down at the floor. “I… I really can’t say, sir.”

Well, that answers that.

Lulu does that singular nod. “Thank you for coming to me. We’ll promptly handle the issue. Perhaps it will be best if we keep this between us.” She awards Marissa with a fake smile.

Marissa nods, relief washing across her face. She’s clearly happy to pass the baton to someone else.

Placing my hand on Lulu’s back, we walk across the elaborate ballroom, making our way to the bathroom nestled in the back, next to the kitchen. At least Kristie isn’t making an ass of herself in the main restrooms where all of the guests are coming and going.

Lulu knocks on the closed door. “Kristie? It’s Ella.” She twists the handle, finding the door locked. “Open the door.”

Nothing happens.

I take a step back, fully prepared to shoulder my way through. Lulu gently lays a hand on my chest. “Kristie, I need for you to open the door. Otherwise, we’ll have to break it down. That will create a commotion, and Phillip will know about it. Is that what you want? Do you want your dad to know about whatever is happening here?”

After a few seconds, the handle jiggles and the door cracks open. I don’t give Lulu a chance to sneak in front of me; I walk in first. Who the hell knows what’s happening in this room, and I’ll be damned if I send my woman into harm’s way.

Well, this certainly is a shit storm.

The bathroom is a complete wreck. The paper towel dispenser has been ripped from the wall; pieces of drywall hang like cheese from a cheese grater. Her purse has been overturned, and the vanity is covered with her credit cards, dollar bills, lipsticks, and what looks like small, decorative pill cases. Apparently, she threw a flower vase in the corner of the room. Fresh flowers lay in a crumpled mess, and jagged shards of the blue pottery are scattered across the floor. It looks like Kristie cut her hand. Blood coats her knuckles and some of it is spread across the front of her yellow party dress—the yellow party dress that’s a little too much party for a function like this. The only thing still intact is the toilet and the martini glass sitting on the back of the toilet tank.

Lulu’s face crumples as she looks around the room. Her hand immediately flies to the back of her neck, rubbing her scar in worry. “Oh, Kristie. What did you do? What happened in here?”

For the first time, Kristie looks up. Her eyes are glassy and half-closed. She wobbles from side to side. “Nothing. I was just looking for something.”

I clench my jaw. “What? Your damn sanity?”

Lulu glares at me.

Kristie sighs and starts scratching the side of her face, smearing blood on her cheek. “I’m fine. I just had one too many martinis. The bartender is making them too strong. He thinks I’m cute, he’s just trying to get in my pants.”

Oh, please. Now it’s time for me to roll my eyes.

Lulu crosses the distance and pulls Kristie’s hands down to her side, trying to save her from looking like she got into a fight with a panther. Turning her hand over, she finds the bleeding cut and pulls her over to the sink, rinsing the blood down the drain. I grab some paper towels and Lulu wraps them tightly around Kristie’s hand, ordering her to hold them in place.

The ring on Lulu’s finger quickly catches Kristie’s attention. She grabs Lulu’s hand and holds it so close to her face it looks like she’s about to poke her own eye out. “Y’all got married?”

“Yes,” I quickly answer. Technically, no, but that’s just semantics.

She sniffles, wiping her runny nose with her free hand. “Good. That’s good.”

“Kristie,” Lulu says softly and sternly, drawing her attention, “why did you tear this room apart? What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I told you I was looking for something.”

“For what?”

Kristie just shrugs.

Fuck this shit. I’ve seen it too many times. With my parents. With Trash. With all of his friends.

With Carrie.

I run my fingers across my belt, wishing I was wearing my normal utility belt. “What are you on?” She turns to me, trying to open her eyes wide, but she’s definitely unsuccessful. “Oxy? Kickers? Fluff?”

Kristie reaches over and grabs a tube of lipstick from the countertop. Spinning it in her hand, she wobbles on her feet and opens her mouth to lie. “I hurt my back exercising last week. I wasn’t thinking and took a pain pill before coming tonight.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Bullshit.”

Kristie starts crying. “I just wanna go home. I’m not feeling well.” She turns to Lulu, playing the sympathy card. “Ella, please don’t tell Dad. I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have been drinking. I’m sorry.”

Sighing, Lulu turns and starts shoving all the stuff back into Kristie’s purse.

I clear my throat. “You’re not buying this, are you? She’s lying. She’s been on this stuff forever. She’s an addict.” I don’t bother lowering my voice. I could not care less if I hurt Kristie’s feelings.

“Of course, I’m not buying it.” She looks over my shoulder, watching as Kristie tries to apply the lipstick. Tries and fails. “But she can’t stay here. Not in the shape she’s in. I’m ready to be done with this. I don’t want anything derailing tonight.”

I lean against the counter. “This has to be addressed. She needs to get help. She’s an addict,” I say again.

Lulu nods. “I know. And I’ll make sure she talks to Phillip first thing tomorrow and gets help…just…not tonight. I’m ready to move on and live my life.” She leans her head against my shoulder. “Live our life.”

I kiss the top of her head. Her shampoo smells like coconut and strawberries. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“I can’t leave, it’s nearly time for me to give the announcement about Dr. Bussman permanently taking over Dad’s practice. Can you take her home?”

Kristie reaches out, taking her purse from Lulu. She looks like a clown version of a street hooker. Smeared eye makeup, lipstick on her teeth, stained dress. She’s given up on the paper towel. Fortunately, it looks like her hand has stopped bleeding. “I don’t wanna go to my house, Ella. Can’t I go to your house? I’ll just sleep on the couch. You know I’ve always loved it there.”

Sneaky bitch. “No. Holt lives there, and you know it,” I say.

Lulu runs her fingertips up my spine. “Holt’s visiting friends this weekend, remember?”

I side glance at her. “It’s still not a good idea, Lulu.”

“Please, Ella. Please,” Kristie begs.

Lulu reaches around and fondles her scar. In the middle of her train of thought, there’s a soft knock on the door. “Ms. Hill? It’s me, Marissa. They’re ready for you.”

“Thank you, Marissa. Please tell them I’ll be right there.” Scowling, she caves to Kristie’s pathetic plea. “Fine. You can sleep in my bed; I don’t live there now. But do not touch one single thing in Holt’s room. Do you understand?”

“Yes!”

I grab Lulu’s elbow. “This isn’t a good idea.”

She bites her lip, thinking. “It’ll be fine. It’s just for one night.”

Happy with her win, Kristie grabs the martini glass from the toilet and finishes off her drink. “Kristie! Are you kidding me right now?” I toss my hands in the air.

“You have to stay with her. She doesn’t need to be by herself.”

I whip my head toward Lulu so fast I nearly give myself whiplash. “I know you did not just suggest that. I may be a cop, but I’m not a babysitter. Especially for addicts. I did that enough with my parents and my brother. You know that.”

She frowns. “I do know that. But look at her. She can’t even keep her eyes open or walk straight. It’s just for a little while. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“We rode together. You want me to leave you stranded here?” I nod at her hand. “I’m pretty sure that ring on your finger means I can’t do that.”

Kristie pulls her keys from her purse. “Here, take my keys. I drove Dad here. You can drop him off before you come home. Tomorrow morning I’ll drive my car home from your house. Problem solved.”

Her words are slurred, and I’m surprised she had enough brain power to come up with a plan.

Lulu plucks the keys from her hand. Smiling, she tries to ease the tension coursing through my body. “See, it’ll be fine. I’ll take Phillip home as soon as the gala ends. I promise, I won’t be long.”

“If you don’t walk through the door the second this party is done, I’m gonna flip my shit.”

My Lulu brushes her lips against mine, breathing her life into me. “We definitely don’t want that. Husband .”

So much for our date with the firepit and tent.