Alien in the Family

checking on your grandparents to see if they needed anything. When I was describing the spa plan, she begged, and I do mean begged, to stay with your grandmothers. So she gets the hand and foot option, too, and gets to feel like a part of a family.”
    “Works for me. What will you be doing while I’m spending the next hundred hours here?”
    “It’ll be the next, oh, five hours, give or take. And, what I’ll be doing is riding herd on the male half of this extravaganza. We have tuxedo fittings that you’ve made me late for but it’s okay because Jeff came out of isolation a little late.”
    “Is he—”
    “He’s fine. If he weren’t fine, then, yes, we’d both be there, not here. But he’s fine. Complaining that he knows you’re stressed and need him.”
    “I am stressed, and I do need him.”
    “Right. The two of you are going to have to deal with the fact that for one more day, you aren’t going to be making with the sexual Olympics. Think how much better it’ll make the wedding night. Anticipation and all that.”
    “You’re kidding me. Where am I sleeping tonight?”
    “In the suite. With all the girls.”
    “Are you kidding me?”
    “No. Jeff’ll be with Christopher. Who’s the best at keeping him under a semblance of control.”
    No sex with Martini until we were married? What was this, 1950? “When is my bachelorette party?”
    “Around seven or eight, depending on when you’re all done here. Guys will crash it a couple hours in. You can have some make-out time then. I’ll be shutting the party down around midnight and riding herd on the ladies, particularly you.”
    “Jeff won’t like me being on the same floor as Chuckie, you know.”
    “Nice try. See, the thing is, Renata is going to be with you. And Queen of the Amazons is clear on the ‘no nookie with any man, even husband-to-be’ rule for you tonight through wedding hour.”
    I gave up. “Okay. Are you getting us or is Chuckie?”
    “Probably both of us. So there’re two of us watching you.”
    “You make me sound like a criminal attempting to escape prison.”
    Reader kissed my cheek again. “I promise you, marriage isn’t a prison. Just relax and enjoy the process.” He stood up, helped me up, and ushered me into the main spa area, patted my bottom, then disappeared, off to do his Super Savior thing with the guys.
    I considered my options. Decided that he and Chuckie had spent so much time and gone to so much trouble and expense, I should at least try to enjoy it.
    Turns out, I did.

CHAPTER 63

    TRUE TO HIS WORD, READER COLLECTED US around seven in the evening. None of us were overly hungry because we’d been grazing on all the girly food for hours. It was yummy girly food—the Four Seasons really did that up right—and I didn’t have anyone stealing it off my plate, so I actually got enough to eat.
    Chuckie was there, too, looking very amused. “Martini spent most of the time whining. You two are a fun couple when you’re apart.”
    “We like being together, so sue us.”
    “No problem,” he said as he took my arm. “I actually had a great time. Nothing like knowing something he doesn’t to drive him insane.”
    “So he knows you helped choose my dress?”
    “Knows, hates it, has to deal with the fact that he’s going to be happy I helped.” Chuckie sounded pretty happy about this. I tried not to worry about Martini’s reactions to this, everything else Reader had going, and my dress. What if he didn’t actually like it?
    I was still relaxed enough from the spa experience that I only fretted about this a little bit. Besides, had a different fret to think about. “James says we have paparazzi. Other than Mister Joel Oliver, I mean.”
    “Yes, so he told me.” He didn’t seem fazed.
    “This doesn’t worry you?”
    “I’m used to it.”
    “Excuse me?”
    He shrugged. “One of Australia’s most eligible bachelors, remember? Just ignore them and they’ll go away.”
    “How are you doing . . . the job you do with paparazzi following you?”
    “It’s part of my cover.” He sighed. “Your mother thinks it’s great.”
    “I’ll bet she does. Why are we worried about poor old Mister Joel Oliver, then?”
    Chuckie gave me a long look. “Because he’s actually right.”
    I considered this. “But no one believes him.”
    “Right.” Chuckie’s expression told me exactly what he was thinking.
    “You kind of like him, don’t you?”
    He shrugged. “I’m not ready to go bowling