Daniel stood, leaving the wedding dress draped over the sewing table. “If you want to be remembered, try a sincere compliment.”
James nodded. “You mean, like your eyes are the same color blue as I imagine the ocean is from a cruise ship at midnight—dark and mysterious with just enough turmoil to be interesting?” He came even closer. “How was that? Or I could say that your lips always remind me of the sweetest chocolate, and I can never get enough chocolate, especially the dark smooth kind that I want to lick until it’s gone.” His breath came deeper, and James’s chest ached. “I could compliment your shoes or the fact that you always look perfect, but that’s what you’re wearing. It isn’t you. Your eyes are the same no matter how you dress, and so are your lips.” James smiled. “Maybe I could say that I want to follow that strip of skin down your throat until that little crescent disappears behind your first shirt button.” He backed away. “Is that closer to what you had in mind?”
Daniel swallowed hard, throat working, drawing James’s attention to the scarf around a long, slender neck. He knew it hid one of the few visible indications that he was a man, but he didn’t care, tugging the knot open, running his finger down warm, smooth skin until it slid over the silk blouse.
“I think you got it down.” Their gazes met, electricity filling the room.
The moment shattered at a knock on the door and Daniel tugged the scarf out of James’s hand, tying it in place once again. “Are the two of you busy?” Holly asked and then barged right into the room. “Mom said you were working on the awful dress.” She paused in the doorway. “Did I interrupt something?”
“Just a private conversation.” James sat on the side of the bed. “Are you only being nosy? Because I can arrange for certain people to be really nosy on your wedding night.” James grinned at Daniel. “We could arrange a shivaree. It wouldn’t be hard to find out where they’re staying.”
Daniel clapped his hands together in delight. “I could sing, and we could get all the groomsmen to bring pots and serenade the happy couple. I always wanted to do that. Doris Day has the most lovely songs.”
Just like that, James lost it. Lala Traviata’s rendition of “Que Sera, Sera” flashed in his mind and he was done.
“You do that and so help me god, I will...” Holly’s expression was pure horror.
James put his hands on his hips. “What?” He was having fun with this. Holly’s cheeks had turned bright red and her head seemed seconds from exploding.
“Come over here,” Daniel said, changing the subject. “I’m making some progress, but I want to check a few things before I put the final seams in. James can step out so we can work, and you can tell me all kinds of stories about the things he used to do as a kid.”
Daniel was completely wicked. Before James could protest, he found himself on the other side of the locked door with Holly giggling up a storm.
“What are you up to?” his mother asked, carrying a basket of laundry down the hall.
“They’re checking the dress, and Holly is apparently telling Daniella stories about me as a kid.” He took the basket from her and carried it to the master bedroom, setting it on his parents’ tightly made bed. The army had nothing on his mother when she made the beds, that was for sure.
“Heaven help us,” his mother muttered and then sighed. “Your sister doesn’t know the meaning of the word discretion. Remember the time she told the entire school that you once sat on a plate of baked beans? It didn’t matter that it was when you were three years old.” She snatched a towel out of the basket and started folding it. “I like Daniella. I think she’s interesting, and she certainly has no qualms about sharing. I bet she’s fun, and she’s really cute.” Mom placed the folded towel on the bed and got another. “If you let your sister mess this up for you...”
“Mom, just relax. Daniella and I haven’t been dating that long. There aren’t wedding bells ringing in the foreseeable future.” He leaned over the bed. “Daniella has been hurt before, and it’s going to take some time before either of us is ready to make a commitment. Holly is getting married, and you’re going to need to be happy with that for now.” The words back off nearly bubbled out of his mouth. “I know you want us all to be happy, but you’re not the arbiter of what that is.” He held her gaze. Mom had this thing she did when she got really determined, and James leaned closer over the bed, meeting the gaze of steel.
“You need to find someone to make you happy and...”
He didn’t look away. “I may never get married.” Another one of those damned commandments bit the dust. “I certainly am not going to walk down the aisle just to make you happy.” God, it felt good to stand up to her like this. “Or date someone of your choosing.”
She smacked the towel down on the bed. “What do you expect me to do, sit back and wait? You’re twenty-eight years old. It’s time you settled down.”
“And I will when I’m ready. You don’t get to make these decisions. I’m sorry if it upsets you, but that’s the truth.” He strode out of the room, returning to his old bedroom, feeling buoyed in a way he hadn’t in a long time. James had stood up to his mother. He had no illusions that his little conversation was going to do much to change her behavior. His mother thought that she had a right to interfere in her children’s lives when they didn’t do what she thought they should. It was that simple. Her expectations overruled everything else—they always had.
Holly opened the bedroom door. “I’m all done.” She smiled. “Daniella has actually managed to fix the monstrosity that Mom’s interference created.” She narrowed her gaze as Mom came back down the hall, and for the first time James could remember, Mom pursed her lips and said nothing as she passed...well, almost nothing.
“What is it, pick on your mother day?” she finally snapped on her way to the kitchen.
Holly sighed and shook her head before checking the time on her phone. “I have to get ready for tonight.” Holly stuck her head back into the bedroom. “I heard a rumor that Jane has arranged for a stripper. She promised me that he was really hunky.”
“I see. And you’re okay if Howard has one tonight as well?” James couldn’t help revving her up.
She narrowed her eyes. “He’d better fucking not.”
“Isn’t that a double standard?” James was having fun with this. He wasn’t interested in any stripper that Weston came up with. Lord knew the kind of taste that man had must be awful. What bothered James more was the fact that if there was a stripper, he was going to have to figure out a way to seem interested, and yet not too interested because he had a girlfriend. Some of the guys would get overly enthusiastic. He’d seen it before.