It's Always Been You Page 3

  Love pushed her hands away. “My hair is fine. And I promised them I’d stop by. The last time I came home to visit, I wasn’t able to spend any time with my friends.”

  Gloria dropped her purse on a chair and scanned the room. “This is nice,” she said, as if she couldn’t care less what Love wanted to do. “Listen, a couple of your cousins really wanted to come but they couldn’t afford a hotel. I figure they can sleep in this big ole room with you.”

  “No,” Love said. “That’s not possible. Drake is my roommate. The second bedroom is his.”

  “I can get my own room,” Drake offered.

  Love glared at him. “Mother, how about I catch the next flight back to Michigan, and they can have this room? Or better yet, I can go stay at your house.”

  Gloria lived in the Las Vegas suburb of Summerlin South. It was just fifteen miles from downtown. The house held many fond memories for Love and she’d love to get away and sleep in her old room for the night.

  “That’s not a good idea,” Gloria said. “You need to stay and be in the thick of things, with me.”

  “It’s actually okay. I figure I can spend some time in my childhood home, prepare the house for the cookout you want to have there on Sunday.” Love scratched her neck and tried to ignore the skeptical look on Drake’s face. He must have caught the sarcasm.

  “Okay,” he said, elbowing her. “I’ll book a room for them. My treat.”

  “Thank you, Drake,” Gloria gushed. “I just love you.”

  “So it’s settled, Mother.” Love picked up her mother’s purse and handed it to her. “I have to finish getting ready now. I have so much to do.”

  “Wait, I wanted to ask you something. I’m planning a visit to Ann Arbor in a few weeks. Do you have room for your dear old mother?”

  Love adored her mother. She really did. But Gloria Washington was a professional nagger. The last time her mom had stayed with her she’d rearranged everything, put all her canned goods in the recycle bin, threw away her favorite socks and insisted Love eat those nasty breakfast bars filled with millet grains.

  “Uh...w-well,” she stammered, “I would’ve said it was no problem, but I...it would be awkward.”

  “Why?”

  That one word was enough to make Love hyperventilate. Briefly, she wondered if her mother would accept it if she answered the question with a whopping “because I said so.” Or better yet, a big fat “nunya.”

  “Why, Lovely?” Gloria asked again. “You have a huge three-bedroom condo you’re renting all by yourself. Why would it be awkward? Unless you lied to your mother about living alone?”

  Love hated when her mom referred to herself in the third person. She struggled to find a suitable excuse. “I meant to tell you sooner. I don’t live alone anymore.”

  “A roommate?”

  “Kind of,” Love lied. Again. She pressed a hand to her stomach, uncertain why she felt the need to tell her mother she had a roommate. I have to throw up. “The economy is rough. I figured it would help.”

  Gloria’s eyes flitted back and forth between Love and Drake. Finally, she placed a hand on her hip. “When did you start lying to your mother, Lovely?”

  Damn. Caught already? “Why do you say that?”

  “You hate living with anyone. You wouldn’t even let Drake move in.”

  Love shifted her attention to Drake, who was watching her with a smirk on his face. Although he was her best friend, she had turned him down when he’d asked to stay with her while he found a place. Instead, she’d suggested that he book a suite at the Marriott closest to the University of Michigan Hospital, where they were both residents. He was pissed, and didn’t hesitate to tell her. Love had assured him it was the best thing for their friendship. She adored him, but there was no way she could live with him. Drake was your typical smelly, messy and loud man. Not to mention a man-whore.

  “Mother,” Love said. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but...” She stalled, running a list of possible roommates in her mind. “Drake is my roommate.”

  He gaped at her.

  The room was silent for a few minutes as both of them absorbed this news.

  “Drake?” Gloria asked. “That’s impossible.”

  “It’s the truth. But I can’t really talk about this now. I told you I have plans.”

  “No, I want an explanation. If Drake is your roommate, you’ll never find a man who wants to marry you.”

  Drake snorted and Love smacked his shoulder.

  “When did this end up being about marriage?” she asked her mother. “Wait...don’t answer that.” It seemed as though these days, every conversation between them contained a reference to the M word. “Please, Mother. I promise we’ll spend lots of time together. Later. I’ll answer all of your questions then.” She hugged her. “Love you.”

  Gloria stomped to the door. “Okay, Lovely. Take care of your business. But we are going to talk about this. And since Drake is your roommate, he won’t care if I stay there for a few days. Right, Drake?”

  He shrugged. “Sure,” he said drily.

  Love opened the door to let her out, only to find the concierge on the other side, preparing to knock.

  “Mrs. J—”

  “Hi!” Love said. “Did you need something?”

  “I forgot to give you the receipt from the jewelry store.”

  She snatched it from him. “Okay, thanks. Bye.”

  “Who is that?” Gloria asked, shoving her out of the way.

  “Mom,” Drake interrupted, pulling her from the door. “It’s just the concierge. I purchased something and he was bringing the receipt. Thanks again.” He pushed the door closed, but the concierge stopped it with his toe.

  “One more thing, Dr. Jackson. Just a reminder—this is a final sale.”

  Love sighed.

  Drake muttered a curse. “Fine.”

  “Thanks for your business, Dr. Jackson. And congratulations again.” He turned to walk away and Love let out a sigh of relief—until he glanced back at them over his shoulder. “Please let us know if you choose to take us up on the offer of using the honeymoon suite.”

  “Honeymoon suite?” Gloria repeated.

  “Yes,” the man said, tugging at the lapels of his suit as he lifted his chin. “We here at the Bellagio love to cater to our important guests. Nothing more important than a wedding.”

  “Whose wedding?”

  “Do something,” Love mouthed to Drake.

  “Mom, how about we go get breakfast?” he said, nudging Gloria away from the concierge. “I’m starved.”

  “Wait a minute,” she exclaimed, digging in her heels. “Who got married?”

  “Why, they did,” the chubby man replied with a toothy grin. “They visited our jewelry store to purchase the ring.”

  “Oh, my God.” Love leaned her forehead against the wall.

  Gloria turned to them. Tears welled in her eyes, and she fainted.

  Chapter 4

  Drake watched as Gloria’s eyes rolled back in her head.

  “Mother!” Love called. But it was too late.

  Gloria fell like a heavy tree and nearly slipped through Drake’s arms, but he was able to catch her. Grunting, he carried her to the couch. “Get my bag, Love,” he ordered.

  She sprinted into the bedroom, came back with his medical bag and dropped it on the floor next to him.

  The concierge had followed them into the room. Drake glared at him. “You can go now. I’ll handle this.”

  “Maybe I should call an ambulance?” he suggested.

  “No, she should be fine. Like I said, I’ve got this. I’ll call if we need anything.”

  The concierge glanced at Love. When she nodded, he left the room without another word.

  Drake
assessed Gloria, checking her airway and pulse, while Love propped her legs up on a pillow. Her pulse was strong. “Mom, can you hear me?”

  Gloria moaned softly. “Lovely...”

  Love knelt in front of her and picked up her hand. “Mom, I’m here.”

  Gloria’s eyes fluttered open. Drake let out a quick sigh of relief. Gloria was many things, but mostly she was as much his mother as she was Love’s. Gloria had been the only motherly figure he’d had, since he hadn’t known his real mother. She had stepped in and filled the gap. Drake had never gotten along with his stepmother, and he’d been grateful that he’d had someone in his life who had supported him through everything.

  “Mom, are you okay?” Love’s voice pulled him back to the present. “You fainted. Have you been taking your medication? Your insulin? Did you eat this morning?”

  Gloria was a diabetic. Over the last few years, she’d had several complications as a result of her illness that had required Love to fly out to Vegas and take care of her. The most recent hospital stay was only a few months ago, and Gloria’s doctors had suggested amputation due to lack of blood flow to her legs and feet.

  Love had recently told him that she’d been trying to convince her mother to get a second opinion at University of Michigan Hospital, but her mother had declined. Drake knew it bothered Love that her mother lived so far away and seemed to be getting worse.

  Drake poured a glass of water and handed it to Gloria, who took a sip.

  “I’ll be okay, baby.” The older woman struggled to sit up. Eventually, she simply leaned on her elbows. “Baby, please tell me...”

  Love peered at Drake. “Mom, don’t think about anything right now. You need to lie back. No sudden movements.”

  Gloria shook her head and finally sat upright. “I told you I’ll be okay.” She smacked Love’s hand away when she tried to keep her from rising to her feet. “You need to tell me what’s going on. And, Drake, if you don’t tell me the truth, I’m calling your father.”

  The threat of his dad knowing anything that was going on in his personal life was enough to give Drake pause. Gloria had used that threat often on him, growing up. It was the only thing he’d ever responded to. Simply put, he couldn’t stand his dad. Life with him had been one disappointment after another. The safe haven that Love and her family had provided had saved him.

  Dr. Lawrence Jackson, plastic surgeon extraordinaire, had always been too busy working and having affairs with random women to even care what Drake did in his personal life. What the man cared about was that Drake was surgical resident, studying to take over his own thriving practice. Except Drake never intended to become his father. In fact, he’d worked tirelessly to distance himself from the man who drove him insane with his demands and unrealistic expectations. Instead of plastic surgery, he’d chosen cardiothoracic surgery as his focus, much to his father’s chagrin.

  The only thing he’d loved about living at home was his siblings—two brothers, one sister and his uncle El, who was like a brother.

  The last thing Drake wanted was his father involved in the mess he’d gotten himself into. No doubt there would be a long lecture that would end in him cursing his dad out and Love urging him to apologize out of respect.

  “Mother, please.” Love stood and straightened her clothes. “It’s not what you think. That man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  Drake cleared his throat. “Mom, you fainted. You need to relax a bit.”

  “I’ll relax when both of you explain to me how you came to Vegas, got married and didn’t tell me.”

  Gloria’s sudden high-pitched screech caught him off guard, and he jumped.

  “Why are you screaming?” Love covered her ears.

  “Because!” She stood finally, pulled them both into a tight hug, and kissed Drake’s cheek. “This is so exciting. Why didn’t you tell me? You should have let me know.”

  There was something about her tone that made him a little suspicious.

  Love pulled out of the group hug. “Mom, you don’t understand. It—”

  Gloria gasped. “We can have a small reception. Yeah. We can do it in June. That will give me enough time.” She sat back down on the sofa, then rifled through her purse and pulled out her phone. “June 10 is perfect. Oh my, I have to get out of here. I have to tell your father, Love.”

  Threatening to tell his father was one thing, but there was no way Love’s father could know what had happened. He was, after all, Drake’s boss.

  Drake nudged Love. “Do something.”

  She stood there, her mouth hanging open.

  “Give us a minute, Mom.” Drake pulled Love into her bedroom and slammed the door. “Love, say something to your mother before she tells the whole free world,” he demanded through clenched teeth. “She threatened to tell my father. And did you just hear that she’s going to tell your father? He’ll hop the next flight, then he’ll kick my ass before he fires me.”

  Love tugged at his shirt. “We have to do something.”

  Drake muttered a curse. “Ya think? We need a game plan. First, you need to get your mother.”

  “Now she’s my mother. You need to handle this, since you’re her favorite.”

  He threw his arms in the air. “Please, Love. The man came in here with the receipt for the ring, and told her that we’re married because our drunk asses actually did that last night. The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner we’ll be able to figure out what we’re going to do to fix this.”

  She placed her palm over his mouth. “Shh, you’re getting too loud. She’ll hear you.”

  He counted to ten and took a long, deep breath. “Do you understand why I’m a little concerned right now?” he asked, when she removed her hand.

  “Of course I do. But we don’t know the circumstances,” Love argued. “We don’t even know if this certificate is legal. And if we really are married, we won’t be after today.”

  Drake grabbed her shoulders. “That’s all fine and good, but before we figure that out, we need to get your mother under control. And that means coming up with an explanation for the concierge’s visit. She’s not going to buy one of your crazy, nonsensical lies.”

  Gloria’s loud laugh carried through the door.

  He pointed in that direction and frowned. “Is she on the phone?”

  Love bolted out of the bedroom and snatched her mother’s cell out of her hand. Ending the call with a quick “Sorry, gotta go,” she handed the device to Drake. “Mom, who were you talking to?”

  “Your aunt. I was just getting ready to tell her about your happy news. She’s going to be so excited.”

  Drake wrapped an arm around Gloria and steered her over to the couch. “Mom, I understand it was a lot to take in at once. But you’ve got this all wrong.”

  Her smile faded. “Care to explain?”

  He glanced at Gloria. “Yes, you deserve an explanation.”

  “Aren’t you happy that you married my daughter?” Gloria asked, concern evident in her brown eyes.

  Drake was torn. The question was a double-edged sword, and any answer he’d give would be bad, in her opinion. He’d always been truthful with Gloria, but he couldn’t be now. If he told her the truth—which wasn’t an option—he’d be admitting that he’d married her daughter in a drunken state, in a cheesy Las Vegas wedding chapel, and he wasn’t happy about it. If he said yes, the response would send her on a rocket to heaven and it would take a miracle to bring her down. There had to be a middle ground. He glanced up at Love, who was staring at the floor. No help.

  A knock sounded and drew their attention to the door. Drake hoped it wasn’t that damn concierge returning to make matters worse. He stood and followed Love across the room.

  She glared at him before she pulled the door open. In front of them, on his knees, with a
ring in hand was Love’s ex-boyfriend.

  * * *

  Oh, my God!

  Love swallowed at the sight of the jerk who’d broken her heart, and the gorgeous ring in his hand.

  “Love, you’re beautiful.” Derrick flashed a dimpled smile. “I couldn’t let another day go by without telling you how I feel. I love you. I want to marry you. I want us to have forever.”

  Love was speechless. She’d dreamed of such a proposal from Derrick Harper when they were together—over a year ago. He was successful, cultured and handsome. He was everything she’d thought she wanted. The life he could offer her was appealing on some level. But the pain that he’d left in his wake still stung. The horrible breakup had devastated her, and she’d gone out of her way to avoid him. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since. And now he was proposing? She couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Drake asked incredulously.

  Derrick rose to his feet. The smile he’d been sporting a few seconds earlier turned into a sneer. “Drake. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re here.”

  “Answer the question.” Drake’s voice was a low growl, and Love knew that this confrontation could turn physical. Drake had never cared for Derrick. The way Derrick broke up with her—with a text—had made Drake’s disdain grow by leaps and bounds.

  “Derrick?” Gloria stepped between Drake and Love. “You’re here.”

  Love frowned at her. It wasn’t a question, and there was no hint of surprise in her mother’s tone.

  “How did you know I was here?” Love asked him, knowing the answer already.

  “You didn’t tell her I was coming?” Derrick asked Gloria.

  She averted her gaze as a blush crept up her neck to her ears. She pushed a strand of her gray hair behind her ears. “I didn’t. But you can leave.”

  Derrick narrowed his eyes. “What? We talked about this. I flew all the way here.”

  “Mother, how could you?” Love felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

  “I didn’t. Your father called and asked for the details of the family reunion. He told me that Derrick wanted to win you back, because he realized he made a mistake letting you go. I’m sorry, Lovely. I should have told you, but I thought I was helping you.”