by Eden Summers
She turned back to the guards and stepped into the hall. “Was there a reason for the heightened security?”
The men exchanged glances, silently answering her question.
“What happened?” She breathed deep, trying not to let anxiety take hold. “Is Mitchell all right?”
“I promise it’s nothing to worry about.” One of the men smiled, extending his arm toward the elevator. “Just an extra precaution due to the crowd outside.”
She stood still, unconvinced, with the pressure behind her sternum building. Her emotions were already on overdrive, and her nerves had been frayed for weeks.
“Stop worrying.” Gabi grabbed the crook of Alana’s arm and led her down the hall. “It’s too late to panic now, you’re about to get married.”
Married. The tightness under her ribs eased, replaced with a burst of adrenaline that shot to her fingertips. All the plans were finalized, and the guests would be seated. Finally, it was time.
“Just picture Mitch. I bet he’s freaking out, wondering if you’re coming.”
“Yeah, I know.” Alana checked to make sure her mother, Leah, and Kate were walking behind her. Then she followed the men to the elevator. She fiddled with the beads on her bodice, smoothed the ribbon surrounding her rose stems, and listened to the static ringing in her ears until the ding of the elevator startled her.
“You’re fine to go inside Ms. Shelton.” One of the guards held open the doors while the other ambled in, situating himself behind a younger man at the button panel.
They even had staff manning the elevators?
“Are you sure?” She raised a brow. “I don’t want to get in there if a ninja is likely to fall from the roof.” The guard inside the elevator raised his gaze upward, and she didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. “What the hell is going on?”
“Come on, Alana. We can’t keep the bad influence you call your fiancé waiting.”
For once her mother’s taunt slid off her back. Something serious had happened to cause the extra security.
“Ma’am?”
The guard holding the door focused on her in concern, yet his voice didn’t penetrate. Her blood began to pound while her mind strolled down a nightmarish path. What was happening upstairs? Had one of Mitchell’s ex-girlfriends showed up? Did the paparazzi make it into the hotel? Or had someone been hurt by an extremist trying to gain media attention?
Oh, god, control yourself.
She shook her head, dislodging the insanity. It was nerves. That was all. The sleepless nights, and fear of not living up to expectations had gotten to her. And she finally had to let it go.
“Let’s do this.” She took a deep breath and stepped into the elevator.
Nobody else mattered. No one but the man of her dreams who would be impatiently waiting for her to arrive.
***
Mitch stood, nervous as shit, before a crowd of family, friends, and music colleagues. He smiled the best he could, jerked his head in greeting at people he hadn’t seen in months, and clutched at the tissues in his pockets to wipe the sweat from his palms. He couldn’t even make eye contact with his mother in the front row. The nervousness in her gaze made his heart beat louder.
Alana was already fifteen minutes late. He’d expected this, had anticipated the tension filling his body, yet nothing prepared him for the blood-chilling fear that she might not turn up.
“I tell ya, she’s not comin’,” Mason drawled. The arrogant fucker had his thumbs in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels as he smiled at the ladies in the crowd.
“Shut your trap,” Blake muttered.
“What?” Mason chuckled, looking at Mitch. “Do you really think she’s not going to show up? Christ, man. Wake up to yourself. You two are so full of that lovey dovey shit that it makes me want to shove forks in my eyes.”
“How the hell do you pick up women?” Ryan asked, incredulous. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen, buddy.” Mason shrugged. “And it helps that I’m fucking awesome.”
“Not so fucking awesome with one eyebrow,” Mitch bit back, receiving a filthy glare in return.
“The make-up artist said the drawn on one looks exactly the same as the one you robbed from me.”
Sean choked on a laugh. “Bro, the make-up artist lied.”
The groomsmen didn’t scrub up too bad. Sean was smothered in foundation to cover his bruising. Mason’s drawn on eyebrow would appear more believable once they were all drunk. And Ryan had spent hours in the shower with a scourer, lessening the shade of his orange skin.
“And you think I’m the fucking asshole,” Mason muttered, turning his back to the crowd.
The celebrant cleared his throat, and they all turned to the front of the room, smiling with apology at the elderly man. Come on, Allie. Please, hurry up.
Mitch was worried her father had caught up with her. The guy was a lawyer, he could talk his way into any situation. Then the aftermath would be brutal, not only for Alana, but her mother too. The wedding would be a nightmare, and he couldn’t stand the thought of that happening to the sweet woman who made his life complete.
The morning had been tainted with worry. His friends tried to keep him occupied, diverting his attention. And even though Mason liked to focus his remarks on the probability that Alana wasn’t going to show, he still appreciated the assholes’ efforts. They were there for him, and were also there for his future wife.
“Go time,” Blake murmured, turning back to face the guests.
Wait. What? The tinkling sound of a harp flittered through the room, and Mitch snapped his gaze toward the musicians waiting in the back corner. Jan was beside them, folder clutched to her chest as she smiled brightly at him.
Holy shit, it was happening.
Alana was here. They were about to get married. And suddenly it became harder to breathe.
“It’s time, buddy,” Blake said, patting him on the back. “Now, try not to fuck this up.”
Alana glanced at the floor, nervousness blinding her vision, making everything blur. Her grandfather stood beside her, his frail arm around her shoulders.
“Are you ready, child?”
Her heart kicked up a gear—if that were even possible—and she breathed deeply as she nodded. She could feel the comforting stares of Leah and Kate, their encouraging words not even registering over the buzz in her ears.
In less than half an hour, with a few graceful steps and whispered vows of love, her life would change. She would no longer be single and alone. She would be the wife of a rock star, his symbol of everlasting love encircling her ring finger, and his commitment forever tattooed on her heart.
She just needed to take that first step.
The high delicate notes of a harp broke the sound of chatter from the church pews in the next room, and the sweet feminine voice that followed stole her breath. She knew this song. When Mitchell asked to take care of the music for the wedding, she hadn’t known what to expect. But this acoustic rendition of Bryan Adams’ “Heaven” was so perfect it brought tears to her eyes.
“Don’t cry,” her grandfather whispered, squeezing her tighter. “The man you love is waiting in the next room. I’m sure you don’t want him to see you with smeared make-up.”
Alana pressed her lips together and admired the elderly face of the only father figure she knew. They hadn’t known each other long, yet their bond had been immediate and unbreakable. Without him, she’d be in a tangled mess of bridal material and used tissues. She blinked away the moisture in her eyes, wordlessly nodding again. Her throat was too dry to speak, and even if she did, the broken words would crumple her resolve.
Leah glanced over her shoulder from her position at the front of the bridesmaids. “Next time we talk, you’ll be a married woman.” She raised her bouquet of lilies and winked as she disappeared into the Starlight Roof room.
“Oh, g-god.” Alana choked.
“You’ll be fine,” Kate assured
her. “Smile, raise your chin, and take a deep breath. It’ll be over before you know it, so enjoy every second.” She straightened her shoulders and followed after Leah.
“Now it’s my turn.” Gabi grinned. “You know what I’m going to say right?”
Alana shook her head. She had no clue, and lacked the brain capacity to contemplate. All she wanted to know was how she was going to make her numb legs get down the length of the aisle.
“You’re marrying Mitchell Davies. The Mitchell Davies. Can you believe it?”
Alana shook her head again, the numbness from her legs moving up to consume the rest of her body.
“You’re one lucky lady, Alana. And I’m so happy for you.” Gabi leaned in, placing an air kiss near her cheek. “I don’t want to ruin your face. You look so pretty.”
A chuckle bubbled from Alana’s belly. “Go,” she croaked. “Otherwise Mitchell will start to worry that I’m not coming.”
“All right. All right. Watch me work my magic.” Gabi turned her back to Alana, wiggled her ass, then started forward.
Alana paused, letting the romantic lyrics sink into her heart before she inhaled a deep steadying breath. “OK,” she whispered, squeezing the crook of her grandfather’s elbow in one hand while the other held her bouquet high and steady. “It’s time to get married.”
They shuffled to the open entryway, the heavy swish of her skirt fabric sounding around them. She lowered her gaze, unable to look ahead. She didn’t know how her body would react at the sight of Mitchell. Maybe she would freeze. Maybe she would pass out. Either way she didn’t want to risk it. Instead she focused on the dark red carpet lining the aisle—the plush pile, the stitching around the border, and took the first step.
Soft voices whispered past her ears, murmurs from celebrity guests and influential people in the music industry. They were all here, their focus trained on her movements. Their attention made her skin clammy. She wasn’t used to being in the spotlight. Ever. Her life had been seclusion and loneliness…until she met Mitchell.
Another step.
The final chorus started, building in volume and emotion. Alana felt it in her veins, heating her blood, the lyrics becoming a part of her love for Mitchell. She couldn’t avert her gaze any longer. She needed to see his smile, and fall into the depths of his hazel irises.
Gradually, she raised her stare—to the people in the pews she passed, the finely carved stone archways, and finally to the man of her dreams. He stood tall before her, his grin wide, his eyes gleaming.
“Stop,” she whispered and her grandfather obeyed, stiffening beside her. She ignored the panic in his posture and took a moment for herself, capturing the fantasy before her, memorizing it for the rest of her life. “I’m blessed.”
Mitchell looked proud and refined. His gorgeous groomsmen at his side. Her mother stared back at her from the first pew, and Alana smiled back.
“Yes, child, but your future husband is starting to panic, so consider continuing down the aisle for his sake.”
Alana glanced back at Mitchell, and a pang of regret clenched her stomach. His forehead was now creased with concern, his lips held in a tight line.
“OK.” Heat entered her cheeks. She hadn’t meant to cause alarm, she just wanted to capture the perfection. And she had. It was in her heart, filling her chest to capacity, and no matter what the future handed them, she would always have this moment in time to remember.
***
Mitch’s legs were about to give out. His over-priced suit was making him sweat, his hands were shaking, but no matter how nervous he became, he didn’t want to wipe the cheesy-ass grin from his face. Alana stole his breath. His words. His thoughts. She was exquisite in her sparkling white dress, her hair in loose waves around her shoulders.
Heaven. The song he picked couldn’t have been more suitable. He was already there, in paradise, with the one person in the world who understood him. Soon his ring would be on her finger, and he would be permanently attached to the most beautiful woman he’d ever known—inside and out. She was his soul mate. The one who made even the worst of days brighter…but he needed to take a piss. And holy shit, he’d forgotten his vows.
He glanced at his groomsmen in panic, the blood draining from his face.
“You look a little pasty, bro.” Blake smirked.
“I can’t remember what I’m meant to do.”
Mason leaned over Blake’s shoulder. “It’s easy. All you have to do is hand over your balls and spend the rest of your life in misery.”
Mitch shook his head, laughter bubbling from his chest as he placed a palm over Mason’s face and pushed him back in line. The four men to his right were assholes. The biggest assholes he’d ever met. Yet they were the best men he would ever be lucky enough to call friends, too.
Who cared if he forgot what to say? They’d figure it out together, his groomsmen, the bridesmaids, and his future wife. It may not feel like it to anyone else, but to him, they were all in this together. They were family.
Alana stopped before him, her green eyes wide and hypnotizing. For a moment, he contemplated halting the ceremony, taking her back to the suite and stripping the material from her slowly, lavishing every inch of skin he exposed. Then his dick gained interest, and the last thing he wanted was an erection in front of a room packed full of people.
Getting the formalities out of the way, he shook her grandfather’s hand, thanked him for escorting his breathtaking bride, and then turned to the woman in question. “You’re…” he wriggled his nose, relieving some of the tingling in his eyes. He’d said it once, and he’d say it again, he was a lucky son of a bitch.
“Smokin’,” Mason interrupted, increasing her dazzling smile.
“Hot, Allie,” Sean added.
Ryan leaned forward from the end of the line. “Beautiful.”
“Yeah, Al,” from Blake. “You don’t look too bad, honey.”
Her eyes glittered brighter with each compliment until the shimmer of tears marred their depths.
“Don’t cry.” Mitch swiped the hair back from her shoulders, allowing her diamond necklace to sparkle in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the floor to ceiling windows. “You take my breath away.”
She lowered her gaze, the dimples at the side of her smile becoming deeper as her cheeks darkened. “Thank you,” she whispered, peeking up underneath dark lashes. “Is everything OK? The extra security detail made me worry.”
His gaze flashed to the guards in the back corners of the room. They didn’t draw attention, but they were still there, hovering unnecessarily. He took her hand, clutching it tight until it stopped shuddering beneath his. “Just a precaution, sweetheart. Everything is fine.” He wouldn’t elaborate on why he needed to make the security changes. That conversation would come later, hopefully once the night ended without drama.
She nodded, squeezing his fingers, her face alight with excitement.
“Are you ready?” he asked, eager to get started, to claim her for eternity.
“Yes.” She straightened her shoulders and bit her bottom lip. “Let’s do this.”
Alana nuzzled into Mitch’s neck, the warmth of her breath heating his sensitive skin. They danced in a slow swaying rhythm, the stress of the ceremony and reception speeches finally over as Mason sang and Ryan played the guitar to an acoustic version of “Unchained Melody” by the Righteous Brothers.
“I love this song,” she whispered, kissing the sweet spot below his ear.
“I know.” He held her tighter, one arm around her waist, with his free hand tangled into the hair at her nape. He knew the music she loved and prepared the night’s playlist to focus on that. Mason and Ryan would do acoustic versions of the slow songs, while another band got the guests on their feet for high-energy dancing.
“Who would’ve known you were such a romantic man?” she teased, pulling back to meet his gaze.
“Only for you, Mrs. Davies.” God, he loved the sound of that. She was his, for now and always
, and heaven help anyone who tried to tear them apart. He inclined his head, brushing his lips against hers, and delighted in the way she sank into his chest. Her arms moved over his shoulders, around his neck, and they stared longingly at one another in silence.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a feminine voice spoke beside him.
Alana pulled back, and he groaned at the break in their heated connection.
“Everything all right, Jan?” he muttered, his focus never wavering from the beauty in his arms. The wedding planner’s work for the night was over, everything had been a success, guests were starting to leave, and he planned on getting lucky in less than twenty minutes—five if his dick got its way.
“Alana, can I speak to your adoring husband for a second?”
Mitch glanced at Jan, his senses now on alert as he noted the way she nervously flicked her fingers over a small envelope in her hand.
“OK.” Alana stepped from his embrace.
“Finally,” Ryan huffed from beside them. “I was wondering when I’d get my turn to dance with the bride.” He grabbed hold of Alana’s hand and spun her into his arms.
Mitch let out a relieved breath. He had a sense he didn’t want his bride near that envelope and was thankful for Ryan’s distraction. “Just keep your hands above the waist, brother.”
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” Ryan winked, then pivoted on his toes, spinning Alana around the dance floor until her laughter rose over the music.
Mitch chuckled. He didn’t have to worry about Ryan’s hands. The guy effortlessly won the hearts of ladies simply for being a smooth motherfucker. Not that it mattered. The rhythm guitarist had never strayed from his wife, and Mitch didn’t think he ever would.
As the two of them danced into the crowd, he turned to Jan, the humor vanishing from his system. “What is it?”
“Follow me.” She led him behind the deserted bridal table, and held up the envelope. “It’s a letter from Alana’s father. He left it at the reception desk and asked that it be given to her.”
Son of a bitch. “Are you kidding me?” Mitch had only begun to relax from the threat of Chris Bowen in the last hour. Couldn’t the man have waited until tomorrow? Didn’t he realize how much this would destroy his daughter’s night?