Look out, Elijah Hart, you’ve lived in the grayscale long enough, and I’m here to wake you up and show you what living in full imperfect color looks like.
23
ELI
Standing in a straight line, shoulder to shoulder with my three brothers, with Nathan on my left, Max and Cole on my right, I tilt my chin up, pulling the collar of my shirt away from my skin.
I’m tense all over, and maybe I need a full-body massage and a gong bath that Sapphire suggested, whatever the hell a gong bath is.
Today I should be focusing on Nathan’s big day, but all I can think about is Sapphire and how she looks in the dress she’s wearing; it makes her look like something out of an ethereal painting. Her hair is freshly dyed this morning, fading from pale pink at the roots into lilac at the ends to match her dress. She looks like the girl in the Endee Desree painting at the art gallery. The one she said was her favorite. Mine too.
It’s ridiculous how many times I’ve thought about her not wearing a bra under that figure-hugging dress because of the almost indecently low back that sits just above the dimples at the bottom of her spine; I’ve pictured it many times already.
I’ve also imagined what color her pebbled nipples might be again. I’m mad at her for wearing pasties to cover her nipples I wish I could see outlined through the delicate ombré fabric.
Fuck. I have to stop this before I get yet another erection. This is fast becoming a serious problem, one I may need to talk to my therapist about.
Something else to add to the list.
Fuck my life.
On the way here, Sapphire talked the entire time, awe-struck with the driver I hired to take us to the wedding in a limousine, informing me I’d made her feel like a princess for the day. Impressed with everything, she drank the champagne, enjoyed the massage seats, and played with every button she could find.
The women I’ve dated before always downplayed my lifestyle, acting unimpressed and too cool to ask me to turn on the TV, unlike Sapphire.
What impressed her even more and earned me extra points was the time and effort I put into hiring an electric limousine. I kept the fact that I recently bought it and didn’t rent it to myself. However, she might have figured it out when I addressed my driver by his first name and told him to take the rest of the day off, which was always the plan. Instead we’re hopping on one of the executive wedding coaches Arianna and Nathan arranged to take guests not staying over in the ranch treehouses back to the city after the wedding. If Sapphire did notice that Clark was an employee, she didn’t say anything.
On Arianna’s insistence, the wedding ceremony is being held in the recreation room at Dad’s care home, ensuring our dad is part of the most important day of their lives.
So that’s where we are right now, in the care home, just waiting for her to arrive with my dad, who is giving her away because we’re the only family she has. What she doesn’t realize is how much we love her and will treat her like one of us because she’s not just Nathan’s wife to us; after today she’ll be a Hart through and through.
“You brought Paige Bradshaw as your date?” Cole asks my brother Max in a low voice, sounding taken aback.
To be honest, so am I. I thought they hated each other’s guts.
“Yeah,” he answers sheepishly, because he knows what’s coming next; teasing and goading.
Cole tuts, then says, “But I didn’t bring a plus-one because you and Eli said you weren’t.”
Max replies quickly, “It was a last-minute decision.”
I don’t want them questioning me bringing Sapphire, so I try to deflect. “Shut the fuck up, will you?” I snap, keeping my voice low, my exasperation evident.
“You brought Rainbow Bright?” Max asks.
I grit out from between my teeth, “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Sapphire.” I roll my neck again, feeling uncomfortable with this line of questioning. I would hate for them to see how much I like her. I still can’t believe we exchanged words by text last night, and I told her she was just the right amount of everything. Then, in a moment of weakness, I told her to buy herself another pair of cowboy boots.
Fuck.
Next, I’ll confess to her that I’ve imagined her bent over my bedroom balcony, her pretty dress pushed up to her waist as I fuck her from behind while she’s wearing those fuck-me boots.
I need to get a handle on this fire inside of me that’s burning wildly before it gets completely out of control and I can’t contain it, making me do something I’ll regret, like kiss her again.
She’s too good for me. Too sweet.
I inform my brothers, “And she just invited herself, something about how she wants to immerse herself in our family values or something equally as stupid that has fuck all to do with work. I mean, how will her being here today help the staff conference? And look.” I angrily pull out a clear stone from my top pocket. “She even put a crystal in my jacket pocket because it will make me feel calm and align my chakras, which is a pile of shit. How the fuck will a crystal calm me today when all she does is wind me up? She’s annoying,” I lie. She doesn’t wind me up. She turns me on, which is so much worse. She’s right there, under my skin, in all the best and worst possible ways.
And the crystals? I’ll try whatever she suggests, even if I don’t understand or believe in what she does.