Ivory
"Mom, I'm home!" I call through the house while entering the living room with Hunter on my tail.
"How was your date? That man sure was hot! I can see why you talk-" my mother's words are cut short when she enters the room and sees the man she is complimenting in the room standing beside me.
"Hi, Mrs.Crawford," he greets with an underlying tone of amusement.
Mom's cheeks redden, but she brushes her embarrassment off. "Oh, call me Grace," she commands politely. "Please, come sit," she welcomes hospitably. Mom leads us to the couches, and Hunter sits next to me, but not close enough to raise Mom's warning flags. After we are settled, Mom inquires, "When's the wedding?"
I am too red in the face to answer, but I don't know whether to be thankful that Hunter answers for me or scared as to what can come out of his mouth. "Less than two weeks away. There's no reason to delay the occasion," he states matter-of-factly.
"True, but when do you think Ivory will be going dress shopping?" she asks him as if I wasn't a few feet away.
"I was hoping tomorrow we could search for a dress," Hunter answers.
Mom shakes her head no and scowls at him. "The groom is not allowed to see the dress," she vetoes his idea. Mom is a traditional woman that has high morals that are to be followed. She's sweet and nice, but you will be appropriate, and you will have values, or she will be mad.
"But how will she know if I approve?" he incredulously asks, obviously not seeing the point.
Yet again, Grace shakes her head, but this time with a faint smile. "If it makes her happy, then it will make you happy. Y'all should decide on the main idea of the dress. Do you want a ballgown, silky fabric, fit and flare? You at least should be on the same page," Mom advises us.
"I want a ballgown," I mumble. I won't do a mermaid, anything but a mermaid.
Hunter flashes me a smile before saying, "Okay, a white ballgown. You can decide the details." I return his smile, but it falters when his description sinks in.
I sheepishly stare at my fingers in my lap, and I murmur, "Not white." Mother knew it was coming, but Hunter is shocked. From the corner of my eye, I can see his brows furrow, and when the meaning of my two words registers in his brain, his navy eyes turn to an almost black. He's angry. I hang my head, ashamed.
"Ivory, what do you mean, not white?" Hunter asks. His voice is calm and collected, but his eyes betray him.
Mother sits uncomfortably quiet on the seat across from us, letting the scene unravel itself. It would've happened sooner or later. He needs to know, but I'm not ready.
As tears brim my eyes, I look up at him and, not too kindly, say, "I'm not pure!" In a fit of humiliation, I rush out of the room, and I quietly shut my bedroom door, leaving a stunned fiance and mother behind.
I try to distract myself with useless things. Cleaning my room, straightening my desk, making my bed. Small tasks that could fight the tears. All hopes of keeping the pools of water at bay are demolished when my door opens to reveal a confused but wary Hunter. "Hey," he offers a small smile as he shuts my door.
"Hi," I sniffle, but don't meet his eyes, knowing the floodgates will break if I do.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes softly, as if walking on eggshells. Not knowing if he can, he stays by the closed door.
I continue to pick up clothes that are scattered around my room and return them to their correct place. "I'm fine," I lie. As I pass by him to hang up a shirt, Hunter firmly but gently grabs my arm.
"Hey, look at me," he commands, and I reluctantly force myself to look into his eyes. Unlike in the living room, his eyes are a lighter shade of azure. However, they still strongly pull me into a hypnotic spell. "See, you aren't fine. If you were, you wouldn't be crying," he comforts. His grip on my arm loosens, and he leads me to my bed. I sit closely beside him, and subconsciously, I rest my head on his shoulder.
"You're mad," I state quietly after a moment of silence. Hunter affectionately pulls me closer to him, and I revel in his warmth.
"Princess, I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at the fool that did you wrong," he mumbles into my hair.
The ear-splitting silence lays on my shoulders, suffocating me. I can't explain, not yet. He wouldn't understand. He'd look at me like the whore that I am. He would make a poor excuse and leave me just like he did. There was nothing I could do then, and there's nothing I can do now.
"Princess, what happened? Tell me, please," Hunter coaxes the words out my trembling lips.
"Six years ago, I was married. For three years, I was married. It wasn't the best of marriages, but I'm fine now. He left my when I was 24 for another girl in New Jersey. We parted ways with nothing to show for our journey, but that's okay. He's over me, and I'm over him," I finish strongly, wiping my eyes and sitting up straight.
Hunter seems disappointed that I didn't spill all the beans, but that's all that he needs to know. Disapproving of the small amount of information I did grant him with, his jaw clenches in anger, and he seems as if he could blow a gasket any minute. Although he doesn't know all the details, he tenderly kisses my forehead and pulls me in for a hug. A bit shocked by his actions, but yet apprehensive of what is to come, I willingly accept his warm embrace.
"Princess, your past is the past for a reason. It's not going to affect the future, and it sure as hell won't affect my opinion towards you. We are going to get married, and I couldn't care less if the dress is white. I just care who's wearing the dress," he finishes with a confident smirk.
I laugh lightly, gleefully. "Could you skip this mushy stuff and just kiss me already?" I state boldly.
Without further prolonging, our lips lock, and I find myself enjoying waves of fire and ecstasy run through me. His sweet, tantalizing lips brush over my skin, leaving a burning trail down my neck. Mindlessly, I tumble back on my bed, with Hunter hovering over me. For a second, navy blue orbs lock with emerald ones. A fire of lust burns in his eyes, matching mine. My dainty fingers work at the buttons on his shirt. Instead of on my body, my clothes decorate the floor, along with his shirt and trousers. Before he discards what's left of my outfit, he asks for permission.
"Are you sure?" Although his voice is husky with need, there's a tinge of concern and tenderness.
My raspy voice reassures him, "Yes." With one word for an answer, he ravishes my skin.
Awoken by the bright rays of sun flashing through my window, my eyes flutter open, but I crankily turn back over and bury myself further into the warm figure beside me. Nope, not a morning person. A soft chuckle fills the air, creating eruptions of butterflies in my stomach. I force my eyes open to meet Hunter's.
"Hey Sleeping Beauty," he greets in a tired voice. I grumble to myself, and then roll back around, turning my back to him. Another laugh reaches my ears. "Babe, are you not a morning person?" he asks with a hint of mock.
"I'm tired, hungry, and sore. Don't mess with me," I warn, my eyes still closed.
"Not to mention cranky," Hunter adds with another laugh.
"Shut up," I mutter jokingly.
"Coffee?" he offers.
"Please," I answer with pleading eyes.
Hunter throws back the comforting covers, and steps out into the cold air. Sheepishly, my cheeks redden, and I shut my eyes tightly with a small yelp. Unfazed by his complete nakedness, he chuckles deeply at me. Does he have no morals! I clutch the sheet tighter to my chest modestly.
"Princess, I've seen every inch of your body," he states, not finding a reason to my chastity.
"I'm not getting up until you turn around," I stubbornly inform him. There's no way I am going to flaunt my body to him, even if we made love previously that night. When he sees I am not budging, he huffs, but turns around to face the wall. Quick as lightening, I lunge out of the bed, and throw on his shirt. Before I allow him to turn around, I button the white shirt and pull on underwear.
"I can't believe you just made me turn around," he mumbles. As his hands enclose around my waist, he whispers huskily, "I think you wear my shirt better than I do." Tiny goosebumps decorate my arms.
"Put on some pants before we leave, I am not having you shamelessly flaunt yourself in my kitchen," I instruct.
"You seemed to enjoy me pantsless last night," he teases.
I swat his hand away from my bum. "Stop it," I command with a hint of laughter.
After Hunter gets the decency to cover himself, we leave the confinement of my room and enter the kitchen. Hunter stands closely behind me as I brew the coffee, his hands on either side of me. His hot breath stirs the auburn hairs falling down my back. Our proximity falters my process of making coffee. I finish the cups and turn around to face him. Instantly, our bodies become flush against each other, and his lips meet my craned neck. My parted, plump lips release a slight, quiet moan.
"Not again," I hear a voice complain from behind us. Embarrassed and shocked, I push a smirking Hunter away from me to see the victim that witnessed our session. My mother stands with an amused grin on her face as she scans my bashful face. "It was bad enough last night but in my kitchen!" she jokes.
My face flushes with horror. "You heard us last night?" I ask incredulously.
"I think the whole town heard you last night," Mom admits with a chuckle. I nervously fidget with the hem of his shirt. "Now, I'm going to go get a shower and get ready for work. I don't want to come back to odd stains in my kitchen." With a final warning to contain ourselves, she leaves us alone.
While I am dying of humiliation, Hunter is amused by my mother's confession. "You were loud," he pokes at me.
"Shut up," I mumble, still red in my cheeks.
His body flushes with mine again, and his lips hover over my longing ones. "I could take you right here on this counter," he says in a low, husky tone.
My cheeks turn crimson, and I try to push him away. "No, we have work to do," I disapprove of his naughty tactics.
Hunter pouts but reluctantly follows me back to my room. His hand rests lightly on my lower back, possessively, as we walk. He shuts the door quietly and spins me around to look at him. His eyes darken, causing me to bite my lip with anticipation. He leans in to plant a tantalizing kiss on my lips, but I stop him.
"Hunter, no," I sternly warn.
"Fine," he huffs. To cheer him up, I lightly kiss his cheek before leaving to dress.
After I dress in a black, loose skirt and a simple blue blouse, I exit my bathroom to find my bedroom empty. There are no signs that Hunter spent the night. Everything is back to normal, except for my rumpled bed sheets. It's as if last night didn't even happen. Ignoring the sharp pain in my chest, I grab my purse and pull my door shut as I leave. Mom sits silently on the couch, drinking a cup of tea with her eyes focused on the television screen. Without a word, I make my way over to her and collapse on the cushion beside her.
"How was your night?" she banters with a sly grin.
"Mom!" I groan exasperatedly. As if her comments this morning weren't bad enough! She continues to flip through the channels, but her statements rise again.
"He sounded charming," Mom shamelessly admits.
"Mother!" is all I can exclaim at her devious remark. Infuriated, I cross my arms over my chest, and my lips set in a firm line as I scowl at the television. A faint gasp of recognition leaves my lips, and I shout for Mom to return to the previous channel. Horror takes over my features, and my fingers cover my gaping mouth. "No no no. This can't still be happening! They wouldn't of cared that much! They shouldn't of cared that much!" I mutter to myself.
When it finally settles in my mother's brain, she pulls me in for a soothing hug. "Ssh, baby. It'll be okay. You're okay. Don't worry. Momma's gonna make it all better," she promises into my hair. Oh how I wish her words could allay my fear.
I watch in mortification as my whole history flashes across the gossip-filled show. Pictures of me in grade school yearbooks are shown as a brief family tree is described. A forlorn tear travels down my cheek as degrading words are thrown around merely about my appearance. Accusations of me being a minx that simply bribed Hunter into marrying me are voiced. I bury my eyes deeper into my mother's chest, willing it all to leave me be. The screen goes blank when Mother finally has had enough.
Author's Note:
They finally did the deed, but it's not a happily ever after from here on out. Oh no, they have something coming. Between news reporters and jealous men, Ivory will face it all. How intact she will be afterwards will have to be decided along the way. Please stick around.
Qotc: Why could Ivory be so particularly protective about her past? (Please answer in the comments)