by Kelsie Rae
I hang up the phone then get out of bed and storm across the room. Grabbing the stupid blue box that’s mocking me, I stomp toward Skye’s room then bang my knuckles against the door. Seconds later, it swings open to reveal a wide-eyed Skye. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and she crosses her arms to cover her threadbare T-shirt. Slowly, I peruse all the silky skin on full display from her pink toenail polish to her milky thighs that are left uncovered before reaching her plaid boy shorts.
She clears her throat. I drag my eyes the rest of the way up her torso before meeting her gaze.
“There a problem?” Her tone drips with sarcasm, making me bristle.
I’m already annoyed that she rejected my gift earlier, and my conversation with Stacy was like a little cherry on top of a crappy sundae. Combine those with the snarky girl in front of me, and I’m seconds from snapping.
Shoving the Tiffany box into her chest, I growl, “Put it on. Wear it proudly. Play the part. Tomorrow, we’re going cake shopping and finding a damn venue worthy of a king and queen just like Daddy Dearest requested. The sooner we figure out the logistics, the sooner we can get married. We’ll both be out of this shitty situation before we know it. Understand?”
Mouth gaping, she grips the box until her knuckles turn white.
“Fine,” she grits out.
“Fine.”
Chapter Thirteen
Skye
Why the hell am I going through with this? I ask myself for the thousandth time since I stuck my nose where it didn’t belong. It probably doesn’t help that I’ve been stuck in a car with my nemesis slash fiancé for the entire afternoon. Chewing on my lower lip, I glance over at him as we drive toward the fifth venue in one day.
Stupid aviators. I don’t even like aviators.
I give Liam the side-eye another time. How the hell does he somehow manage to make them look sexy? It’s bugging me. With a quiet huff under my breath, I look back out the passenger window, mirroring my favorite six-year-old’s behavior. If he can ignore the tension in the car, then so can I. Or maybe I’m just imagining it. That’s always possible too. I’m on my period. And when I’m on my period, I’m moody as hell for absolutely no reason. Other than the fact that––you guessed it––I’m on my period.
You know what else is annoying and amazing at the same time? The power of a name, especially when it belongs to someone with wealth and influence. Almost all of the possible wedding locations have been booked for months, but as soon as Liam mentions he’s related to the infamous Robert Davis, openings seem to magically appear out of thin air. It’s fascinating, and irritating as hell to witness. But again, maybe that’s just the period.
“How did you feel about the last one?” Liam asks. He hasn’t bothered to walk on eggshells around me today because you guessed it again––he’s Liam Davis and doesn’t give a crap. His left hand casually holds the steering wheel, and his right rests on the stick shift. There’s something sexy about a man driving a manual car. I don’t know what it is, but it totally does it for me, and it takes everything inside of me to tear my gaze away from his tattooed forearm as he grips the shifter and shoves it into fifth gear. I might not like the guy, but it doesn’t mean he isn’t one of the hottest men I’ve ever met.
I roll my eyes and stare out the windshield.
“It was fine,” I mumble, reminding myself to answer him when I have absolutely no desire to. I don’t know what my problem is, and I’ll admit my bad attitude is totally unwarranted, but it doesn’t stop my annoyance from spiking anytime Liam opens his stupidly attractive mouth.
“Fine?”
I shrug. “They’ve all been fine, Liam. I don’t care. Where would you like to get married?”
With a dry laugh, he mutters, “I wouldn’t like to get married anywhere. I wouldn’t like to get married at all.”
“Never?” His honesty seems to soothe my annoyance for the time being, and I catch myself leaning closer to him.
Giving me the side-eye, he admits, “Nope. When you have wealth, you can never really tell what your relationships are based on. Look at Stacy, for example. She only wanted me for my money. Look at my dad and both his wives. Look at my dad in general. His entire world revolves around how many dollar signs he has in his bank account.”
“Look at you and the lengths you’ll go for those dollar signs,” I quip.
“Exactly. Even his own son doesn’t love him. It taints everything.”
“Then why do you want your piece of it?”
He sighs. “Because life is easier with it when it’s all you’ve ever known. I know that makes me a shitty person, but––”
“You’re not a crappy person, Liam.” And that’s annoying too, I want to add, but I keep that little observation to myself before continuing. “You might like to keep your saint-like qualities hidden from people––which I still don’t understand, by the way––but you have a good heart. You’re not going to squander the money. You’re going to help so many people with it, and I couldn’t be more impressed by your honorable motives.”
He goes silent for a minute, shifting in his seat in discomfort. I assume it’s because I brought up how selfless he really is, and I immediately feel guilty for talking about it when it’s obvious he doesn’t like to.
Clearing my throat, I change the subject. “So. Venues. I don’t care which one we pick. They all look nice. Why don’t you decide?”
“It’s your wedding….”
I scoff before tossing a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure Brody isn’t still eavesdropping. With a sigh, I dig up as much effort as I can muster to change my attitude and offer, “Let’s check out this last one, then we can decide.”
“Sounds good.”
Reaching to the center console, he turns up the volume on the radio, and we listen to music for the next few minutes before pulling up to a quaint little church. My eyebrows tug down in the center as I inspect it. It’s gorgeous. Green vines climb up the side of the white building, and bright flowers of all different colors line a brick path leading to the front double doors.
Brody groans as Liam puts the car into park.
“I don’t wanna go in,” he whines. “I’m tired.”
Sending him a forced smile, I say, “This is the last place. I promise.”
I can see him debating on whether or not to pitch a fit before he finally drags out the word, “Fine,” and opens the door.
Once I hear it close, I turn to Liam and mention, “You owe him. He’s been a champ today.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
We follow Brody to the front door as butterflies assault my stomach in anticipation. There’s something about this place. It’s captivating. Yet, simple. Subtle. Yet, memorable. It’s perfect. I don’t even need to go inside to know that if I were getting married for real, this would be the place I’d want to say, “I do.” Liam lifts his hand to twist the handle and let us inside, but I stop him.
“Wait.”
Turning to me, he quirks his brow. “Yeah?”
“Hey, Brody.” I look down at the little guy and muss up his mop of brown hair. “Why don’t you go play on the grass for a minute, okay? I need to talk to Liam alone for a second.”
The kid is too tired to argue and drags his feet over to the green lawn before plopping onto his butt and picking at the grass like a champ.
“There a problem?” Liam probes, staring down at me curiously.
“I don’t want this one.”
“Why? I mean, I know it’s small, but I actually think it looks pretty cool.”
Shifting my weight between my feet, I peek up at him. “I know. That’s kind of the problem.”
“Huh?”
“I love it,” I choke out. “It looks perfect. It looks like the exact location I’d want to get married in.”
He tilts his head in confusion. “So, what’s the problem?”
I hate that I even have to explain this to him, but he needs to understand my reasoning.
�
�This isn’t real, Liam. You aren’t my forever. And…and this is where I want to say yes to my forever.”
Finally, it dawns on him. “This is where you want to get married for real.”
Shoulders hunching at the hopelessness I feel, I admit, “Yeah. I can feel it in my bones. This place is perfect.”
“And you don’t want to waste it on a pretend marriage,” he acknowledges.
I shake my head.
“Okay. So let’s do a little recon for your future wedding. We can go look around, figure out pricing, logistics, etcetera, then you’ll know for next time. That way, today won’t have been a complete waste of your time. Deal?”
“And you’d be okay with that? I mean, I don’t even know if I’ll ever get married for real, ya know? Are you sure you want to waste your afternoon helping me with something that might not ever happen?”
Grabbing my hand, he laces our fingers together. “You’ll find a husband one day, Skye. And he’ll be a lucky bastard. Especially when you tell him that your first marriage was to a total asshole, but you were selfless enough to help him out, anyway. Come on. After everything you’ve done for me, it’s the least I can do.”
He raises his opposite hand and twists the handle before pushing the giant doors open. My jaw hits the floor as soon as I take in the gorgeous little church.
I was right.
I was so right.
The pews are made from rich, dark wood. They’re placed in rows on the left and right of the long rectangular room, leaving a center aisle that leads to a small platform where I can almost see a bride and groom promising to share their lives together. Large, clean windows frame both sides, giving it a soft, almost ethereal glow. Seriously, it’s like a dream. With the right flowers and decorations, it would be perfect. I can see it. The whole thing. Surrounded by family and friends, my ivory colored wedding dress, Brody as the ring bearer. My eyes gather with tears, and I sniff in hopes of keeping them at bay.
“Let’s get out of here, Liam,” I choke out.
Turning to me, his face floods with concern.
“Whoa. You okay?”
I nod, clearing my throat.
Damn period.
“Yeah. I just need to get out of here.”
Hand tightening around mine, he tugs me closer to give us a bit of privacy from the hostess who’s just seen us. I can feel her eyeing me curiously, but thankfully, she keeps her distance as Liam leans down and murmurs, “What’s going on, Skye? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just having a mini-meltdown.” I laugh. “Seriously, I’m fine. It’s just perfect. And I can see it, ya know? But it’s not happening. Not for real, anyway. And I just…. I’m fine. I just want to go. Let’s go with the last place we were at. That place was really pretty too.”
Liam doesn’t move an inch as he watches me, taking in my watery eyes and quivering lips. Surprising me, he pulls me into a tight hug before rubbing his hand along my back. I squeeze my eyes shut and soak in the comfort he’s giving me, practically melting into his embrace before he pulls away just as quickly.
“Go outside. I’ll talk to the hostess and explain everything. I’ll see you in a second.”
With a lump the size of Texas in my throat, I nod then do as I’m told.
Chapter Fourteen
Skye
The next few weeks go by in a blur. Liam steps up in ways I never could’ve imagined. Ordering a three-tiered cake, reserving a small but gorgeous venue, and even taking Brody to the tailor for a custom tux. I guess over-the-top emotions can scare a guy into doing anything.
Meanwhile, I’m sitting on pins and needles until the day finally arrives.
I’m doing this. I’m really doing this.
My hands are shaky as I zip up the white, lacy wedding gown before glancing at myself in the mirror. My sisters and mom are buzzing around the bride’s room like little bees, getting themselves ready to walk me down the aisle.
I’m getting married.
I can’t believe I’m actually getting married.
“Sweetie, are you feeling okay? You look a little pale,” my mom notes with a concerned expression. Pressing the back of her hand to my forehead, she releases a sigh. “No fever. That’s good. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine,” I breathe. “Just nervous. That’s all.”
Since our family doesn’t keep secrets from each other, she tsks, “You don’t have to do this, you know. I understand your reasoning behind it, and you know how despicable I think it is to hold money over someone’s head like Mr. Davis is, but it isn’t your responsibility to sacrifice your happiness for someone else.”
“I’m not sacrificing my happiness, Mom,” I argue, though it falls a little flat. “I’m just helping a guy out. I’m okay. I want to help him. It just feels a little weird when I know this isn’t the real deal. That’s all.”
My sisters’ and mom’s heads bob up and down in unison.
“Yeah, that would feel weird to me too,” Sway agrees.
“It feels weird for all of us, sweetheart,” my mom admits. “It’s like I’m giving away my daughter, but not really. I’m only letting him borrow her. Your father and I are having a hard time wrapping our heads around it.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.” Reaching for her hands, I give them a quick squeeze. “I didn’t even think about how it might affect you guys.”
“It’s fine, Skye. You know we love and support you no matter what.”
Snaking my arms around her, I pull her into a big hug. “And that’s why you guys are the best parents ever.”
“Hey! I want in on the action,” Sway adds. She joins our hug and is quickly followed by Saylor until we’re one big Swenson sandwich.
A soft knock on the door interrupts our mushy moment, and my dad’s head pops in through the crack.
“They’re about to start. You ready?”
After wiping my fingers beneath my eyes for any smeared makeup, I give him the thumbs up. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He gives me a smile in return. “You got this, baby girl. You’re a good kid, even if you have a habit of helping others in unconventional and completely irrational ways.”
Laughing, I walk over and give him a side hug. “If that isn’t the best compliment I’ve ever heard, then I don’t know what is.”
His chest rumbles in agreement before he ushers my sisters and mom outside. I check them out as they leave, noting how gorgeous they all look in their rose-colored dresses. They’re all wearing the same color, but the cuts of each dress are different, giving each of them a sense of uniqueness that fits each and every one of them. Sway’s is short and flirty, and her hair left loose and wavy. Saylor’s is long and tight, showcasing her curves while still leaving just enough for your imagination. Her hair is pulled into a loose chignon bun and wisps of her blonde hair frame her face beautifully. The girl is gorgeous. It’s a shame that her guard is so damn high that she won’t let anyone get near her. Not after Owen Daniels, anyway.
Bastard.
The wedding march starts, and my pulse picks up speed until I’m sure I’m about to have a heart attack.
Is this really happening?
“You ready, baby girl?” my dad asks, offering his arm.
With a deep breath, I weave my hand through the gap near his elbow. “Yup. Let’s do this.”
Small tremors race through me as my wobbly feet guide me to the entrance of the venue.
Lidia stands near the entrance with a beautiful bouquet of red roses. Handing it to me, she whispers, “Good luck. You look gorgeous. That dress is breathtaking on you. And your hair?” Her eyes shoot to my loose, curly updo. “Perfection.”
Cheeks heating at her compliment, I mumble, “Thank you.”
“Come on, Skye. It’s your turn.” My dad gently pats my hand before escorting me to the back of the aisle.
Then all eyes are on me. And I feel each and every one of them.
A buzz echoes in my ears, and I don’t hear a single wor
d as my gaze darts around the room.
Just move your feet, Skye. That’s all you gotta do, I think to myself as I stare at the ground in front of me.
My heels click along the polished floors. The sound grates on my nerves. Before I know it, my dad pulls me into a tight hug. I hold on for dear life, and his chest vibrates as he chuckles in response. Gently, he wiggles out of my grasp and motions for someone to step forward.
My breath stops. Completely. In fact, I’m convinced I’m going to pass out when I finally see Liam in a black tux that fits him like a glove. His usual cocky armor is missing as he grabs my hand and laces our fingers together. When he feels my hands shaking, he squeezes softly, and my heart stalls in my chest as I stare at our hands. His are rough. Calloused. Weathered. But his nails are trimmed short. They’re clean. They’re just so…masculine. In comparison to my dainty, little white ones with polished tips, I feel so…small. Breakable.
And I kind of hate the realization that when I’m around him, I am breakable. Normally, I’m the strong one. The one who takes care of others. Who watches out for the little guy. The happy-go-lucky one. Yet, when I’m around him, I’m just me. He’s someone who knows how to strip all of my armor, leaving me bare and vulnerable. It scares the crap out of me.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate….” I don’t pay much attention to what the preacher says after that. That same buzz from earlier comes back full force as he mumbles a bunch of bull crap about how this union will stand the test of time. How we’ll be together in sickness and in health when we both know it might not even last a month. I catch myself staring at the second button on Liam’s white, pressed dress shirt when I hear his deep voice murmur, “I do.”