? DISCONTINUED ? Between the Perennial Blooms || Paul Lahote

Fifty Two | Orchid

"The wedding is in a few weeks so Bella said she- she wants to fly in a bit early to help out where she can."

"And how do you feel about that?" Paul questioned tentatively, knowing good and well how sore a subject her mom was though Bailey would never admit it. She was too damn sweet for her own good, he thought. But he wouldn't have her any other way.

"I-I- I'm excited to see her after so long," Bailey told him quietly and Paul knew better than to think it was the truth. But at the side eye he gave her when she pointedly pressed her lips together, she quickly crumbled and added with a whisper: "And I'm also a little nervous."

Paul leaned over the edge of the tub to kiss her lips sweetly. "Why, baby? I know it's been a while but you'll have all of us here to help you through it."

"I- I guess I just don't know how she'll react. I'm sure Papa or Bella have told her by now but it'll be different when she sees me in person. She'll see my limp and my leg and- and my shaky hands. And I think she's always thought I was a little slow but now that I keep forgetting things she'll—"

"Let me stop you right there," Paul interrupted abruptly. Anger flared in his chest at the sound of her insecurities coming to light and the anxiety she felt over her own goddamned mother no doubt exploiting them when she came into town. The mere thought of it made him sick to his stomach. That anyone could take one look at his girl and not think of her as the strongest, most resilient, most courageous girl they'd ever laid eyes on felt like a robbery of some part of him. Perhaps the part of him that knew what she'd been through and shouldered some of the pain as a result of it or perhaps it was simply the part of him that loved her beyond reason, but either way it didn't matter. What mattered was that he knew the truth, and everyone they cared about for the most part knew it too, and if Renée Dwyer rolled into town and had anything to say that wasn't praise or worship for her youngest daughter then Paul would be the first in a long line of people behind him to say 'fuck off' and 'fuck off fast'. Because Bailey Swan was next to perfect in his eyes.

And with her mother being the way she was, she didn't deserve a single ounce of credit for that.

"If she says one wrong thing about you..." Paul warned. He fisted a handful of her curls and firmly twisted her head to look him in the eye. "Mother or not, she'll get what's coming to her."

Bailey sighed long and slow, both exasperated and just the slightest bit amused. "Paul, you- you can't just threaten to beat up my mother. It's not— you just can't."

"I can do whatever the fuck I want," Paul miffed. Upon receiving a scowl from his Imprint though, he quickly changed his tune. "Within reason, of course."

Bailey giggled softly. "Uh-huh. That's what I thought you were going to say."

Paul narrowed his gaze. "Yeah, yeah, you've got me by the balls, whatever. Now hurry up and let me get you out of this thing. Your fingers are starting to prune and if you've already got my balls then you should have no problem taking my dick too."

"P-Paul!" Bailey spluttered.

He had the gall to look genuinely affronted. "What? You think I'm just gonna let you sit there all naked and wet and not do anything about it?" He shook his head playfully. "Don't you know me at all, baby?"

Bailey rolled her pretty eyes, raised her arms above her head in acceptance, and mumbled under her breath: "I do. A little too well if you ask me."