Perfect Grump: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

by Snow, Nicole

  Abby escorts her away and then returns to us.

  Millie starts down the aisle in a peach dress, white shoes, and pigtails. The pigtails win smiles from everyone, including me, but I smile wider because she’s carrying the remote-controlled limo I used to propose. It’s decorated with pink ribbons and flowers, and no one ever put the top back on.

  “Why does she have a toy?” I ask.

  “You’ll see,” Abby says.

  She pulls rose petals out of the limo and throws them, changing hands with every step so they’re distributed evenly—or at least she tries.

  “Oops!” Millie puts a hand over her mouth.

  She turns around, grabs a handful of flowers from the pier, spins back around, and chucks them ahead of her.

  Reese giggles, covering her mouth with her bouquet.

  Paige steps into the aisle from a white chair.

  “There’s my wife.” Ward sighs. “It’s weird walking another woman down the aisle.”

  “You’re my brother. Deal with it.”

  He slaps my shoulders. “The things I do for you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Abby says. “This was my sister’s idea. Not mine.”

  “No worries.”

  Paige bends down next to Millie, says something to her, and leads her to where she’s supposed to stand before returning to her seat.

  “She’s going to be a damn good mom,” I whisper.

  Ward smiles. “I know.”

  The music swells, loud wedding notes soaring over us. Ward leads Abby down the aisle first. They pass Millie and each of them stand at one side of a black circle arch perched on Lake Michigan.

  “Abby says the sunset will make a beautiful picture over there,” Reese whispers.

  “It will, but I won’t be looking at the sun.”

  Her cheeks glow neon red.

  “Ready?” I whisper.

  She nods at me, her blue eyes sparkling.

  I loop my arm through hers and walk her down the pier, just like we planned. Since she doesn’t have parents, I’m escorting my bride to the place where we’ll say our vows.

  We stop at the arch in front of a smiling pastor.

  It’s a small wedding, but Reese still holds her bouquet up with one hand and hides behind it.

  I grin at her but don’t say anything. I don’t care what anyone else sees. Only that she leaves as my wife. Mine forever.

  “You’re supposed to give me the bouquet,” Abby whispers.

  Reese looks at me and raises a brow.

  I nod at her.

  She passes the flowers to her sister, glances at all the eyes on her, and her hand trembles in mine.

  “I’ve got you,” I whisper.

  She smiles, and something in it makes me weak.

  Trust.

  She knows who I am and where I’ve been and how hard I’ve fucked up. The miraculous part?

  She doesn’t care. She’s tying her destiny to me, and come hell or high water, I won’t give her a single reason to regret it.

  Millie wanders up and wraps herself around her mother’s leg.

  “Go back, baby. You have to be a good girl for Auntie Reese and Uncle Nick,” Abby says, already wiping a tear.

  “Awwww.” The word is stretched out, high-pitched, and somehow still singsong in the way only a four-year-old can manage.

  She comes between Reese and I, one chubby hand on each of our legs.

  “Nick, no one will play with me.”

  Our audience laughs. Reese gnaws her bottom lip, and I suppress a laugh.

  “If you stand there very quietly, you can play the wedding game with us, okay?” I say.

  She pauses, then gives me a determined nod.

  “Okay!”

  With that, the rest of the ceremony goes flawlessly.

  Every breath crackles with anticipation and I’m sliding a diamond crusted ring on Reese’s finger. Then she slides a thick gold band over mine.

  I wait, exhale, and wait some more for the words I’m dying to hear.

  “You may now kiss the bride,” says the preacher man.

  I’m a human blur, pulling my new wife into me. My lips impact hers with a force that says forever, woman. The first of many vows with tongue and teeth I swear I’ll renew each day of our lives.

  She’s never tasted better, her mouth sweeter than a strawberry tort.

  “That was chaste?” she whispers with a parting gasp, good humor sparking in her eyes.

  “You complaining?” I whisper back.

  “God, no.”

  She turns her head slightly and stares out at the white chairs in front of us, full of happy guests, then looks back at me. She swallows so hard it’s visible.

  “Okay, maybe just a little. I never wanted that kiss to end,” she says sweetly.

  Laughing, I lean over so my lips are above her ear. “You’re mine all night, sweetheart.”

  She slaps my chest. “Shhh. We’ve got company.”

  “They’ll know what I said anyway. Your blush gives it away,” I say, kissing her again for good measure while people cheer around us.

  She gives me a shy smile when I finally release her lips.

  “It’s my humble pleasure to present to you—for the very first time—Mr. and Mrs. Brandt!” the pastor says.

  The guests wave black-and-white checkered flags at us as we walk back down the aisle, parting like a small sea for us. I wave, but really, my mind is totally focused on Reese.

  “Nice touch with the race car flags,” she tells me. “This is like no wedding I’ve ever seen.”

  My heart swells ten times bigger. The flags were my last-minute idea, and I know my girl.

  People congratulate us as they pass, heading to their cars.

  Soon enough, it’s just Ward, Paige, Abby, Millie, Reese, and me lingering behind in a pavilion a little ways off the pier.

  “Should we go? I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for everyone to beat us to the reception,” Reese says.

  “Grandma’s bringing the car up now. She must have taken it around the block.”

  Reese grimaces. “Dang. I didn’t schedule a driver for today. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I forgot—”

  “Sis, stop,” Abby cuts in. “I took care of everything, remember?”

  Just then, a hot-pink torpedo on wheels pulls up with Grandma at the wheel, strands of her silver hair blowing in the wind.

  “Whoa! Granny Bea got a hot new car,” Reese says, doubling over with laughter.

  “Not quite.” I smile at her. “That’s yours. My gift to you.”

  “You didn’t!” She gushes, eyes wider than I’ve ever seen. “Oh, God, you did. But why?”

  “Like I said, it’s your wedding gift.”

  Stunned, she bounds over to the convertible. Grandma kills the engine and gets out just as Reese meets her. She throws her arms around Grandma with a twirl that makes me grin.

  “Thank you so much, Bea. It’s magnificent!”

  “You’re welcome, dear, but Nicholas bought it. I just had the privilege of taking her for a spin.” Grandma passes the keys, lifting her oversized shades with a wink.

  Reese motions to me impatiently. I climb into the passenger side.

  “You got a ride to the reception?” I ask Grandma.

  “Well, maybe I should ride in the back,” she says, still standing next to the car’s side, looking around. “Then again...”

  She goes quiet with a bright smile when she sees there’s room in Abby’s car with Millie.

  “Grandma, go. Have fun with your new great niece,” I tell her, reaching out to squeeze her hand.

  She doesn’t need to be told twice when adorable kids are involved. She’s practically skipping to their car.

  “I can’t believe you bought me a pink freaking convertible. Every girl’s dream,” Reese muses, pumping my hand.

  “As long as it’s your dream,” I say, pressing her hand to my lips.

  The reception fills the restaurant of the grand hotel we
’re staying in.

  When we walk in, a hostess stands beside a pink board that says, Claim Your Parking Spot. Each name card has a toy car on it.

  The hostess smiles at us. “You two are at the wedding party table. You don’t need a placard.”

  “Damn. I wanted a toy to take home,” I grumble.

  Reese giggles. “We’ll get you one later.”

  Tucking my arm around her, I lead us to our table.

  The tablecloth is white. The border looks like a road separated into two lanes by pink lines, and there’s even a pink ruffled skirt under it. The napkins are also pink, wrapped by a chrome napkin holder with a toy car glued to the top.

  I get my wish after all. Reese and I have white limos waiting at our spot.

  A small water bottle with a hot-pink ribbon tied around it and a black-and-white-checkered border waits at each place setting. A black heart centers the pink wrapper with our names in white letters.

  I do a double take, squeezing my wife’s hand.

  My wife. Holy shitbuckets.

  I’m going to enjoy every bit of reminding myself I’m a married man.

  More guests file in as everyone gets settled, folks who come to give us their best who weren’t at the private ceremony.

  Sabrina and Magnus Heron stroll up to us, each carrying a white card attached to a model Aston Martin.

  Brina hugs Reese. “Congratulations.”

  Mag slaps me on the back.

  “You finally got the ball and chain. Welcome to the club. I wish you’d told me you needed my jet for a lady. I’d have never charged you.” He looks at Reese and back at me. “She’s a beauty.”

  “No hard feelings, Heron. Everyone came out ahead with the plane, but the biggest winner was me.” I say, just as the champagne flutes make their way to our table.

  I clink my glass against his and then give Reese a knowing smile. I promised her I’d only have three drinks tops. Then it’s back to non-alcoholic sparkling cider.

  I’m a changed man, all right, thanks to her, and I aim to keep it that way.

  “Where is everyone?” Brina asks.

  She must be looking for Paige.

  About that time, the rest of our family comes staggering in. Only Millie stops to take a placard before running to our table.

  “Uncle Nick, look! I got another car.”

  “I see that. We’ll get together and show off our collections soon,” I tell her, ruffling her curly hair.

  Abby sits next to Reese. Millie stays next to me, still chattering on about her toy cars and how she wants to “vroom, vroom like Auntie Reese someday!”

  Ward takes the seat beside her. Paige links her arm through Sabrina’s and they disappear together with Mag following at a distance a little while later.

  Grandma takes her rightful place at the head of a long table worthy of Camelot.

  My eyes fall on the centerpiece—what else?—a pink Cadillac overflowing with fresh flowers. There’s one at every table.

  Abby beams at us, admiring how much I love her sister. It’s heartening to know her only family can rest easy, knowing Reese will always be taken care of.

  “Open it!” Millie hands me a water bottle.

  I twist the cap off and hand it back to her.

  “God, Nick, I love the centerpieces,” Reese tells me later for the third time.

  “I was afraid you might be more of a Ferrari girl.”

  “Hell no. This is perfect. We need to do a road trip down Route 66.”

  I smile because it’s so fucking Reese, and I make a mental note to make sure she gets her way.

  There’s another table along one side of the room with the same road-trimmed cloth and fluffy pink skirt. This one has a pale-pink sign that reads, Fuel Stop.

  I can’t make out everything from here, but I see a glass water container labeled “coolant” and a three-tier wedding cake, each layer wrapped in a pink ribbon, and capped with a miniature couple on top sitting in a limo.

  The bride is in the driver’s seat. And beside the table, there’s an old-fashioned cotton candy machine that makes me smile.

  No question, we both poured our hearts into giving this wedding—and each other—the little quirks we deserve.

  “Dare I ask what’s over there? It smells like heaven,” I say.

  “Cotton candy, champagne flutes filled with white jelly beans, and hubcap dispensers of random candies over on Candy Lane. You can see the cake, additional coolant, and a washtub filled with glass sodas ringed with car-shaped bottle openers, skewers—”

  “Hold up. Stoplight skewers?” I ask.

  “Kiwi, pineapple, and a strawberry on a stick. You’re welcome,” she says, pausing to peck me on the cheek. “Plus, there’s popcorn and chocolate donuts from the best shop in Chicago arranged to look like tires.”

  I let out a low whistle, more amazed than ever with the woman I love.

  “How did you pull all this off in just a few weeks?”

  “Delegated well. Check out the other side of the room,” she says, pointing.

  I see another sign that reads Pit Stop, already piled high with our gifts.

  “Abby helped a little.” Reese shrugs.

  Her sister laughs. “You don’t walk away after planning a kid’s birthday party on fifty bucks learning nothing. It helped that I billed Nick for the charges. But I saved you guys a crap-ton of the money designing all the prints myself!”

  We both thank her again and I kiss Reese’s head.

  Just in time for the grub. Servers cart around heaping plates of burgers, fries, onion rings, and several other sides.

  “Sorry if it’s not as fancy as you hoped, Nick. I asked my sister what kind of food she wanted, and she said concession food,” Abby says.

  “I agreed with casual. You girls did the job,” I tell her.

  “Have you ever thought about event marketing, Abby?” Ward asks. “Nick used to help manage that team, but he spends most of his time with Brandt Dreams and Fluff Rides.”

  Reese hits me with a smile brighter than the sun when she hears her new company name.

  “I’m about to start taking classes to be a wedding planner, but...event planning is close. I’d like it, I think.” Abby sighs. “But whatever I do, I think I have to be able to do it from home. That’s one thing I’ve learned to appreciate after everything that’s happened.”

  “I could work out a freelance contract. I’m okay if you do the planning from home, but you’ll probably have to go to the events to make sure they’re running smoothly, at least for a while. You’re part of the family now. We’ll all pitch in to figure out something for Millie,” Ward tells her.

  “Oh, wow, I...you’re offering me a job? Thank you!” she says.

  “If you can pull off events like this in a matter of days, it saves us all a ton of grief,” my brother says.

  I couldn’t be happier to see our joy rubbing off on the biggest dickwad in the world. But shit, do I love him.

  “Just keep your schedule open, Abby. My wife’s high maintenance and we’ve got a baby on the way,” I say with a wink.

  “High maintenance?” Reese glares at me. “Liar!”

  I grin. “Yeah, but I love you.”

  She leans over and drowns me in another kiss that transcends every smile and easy laugh in the room.

  After dinner, the big moment arrives when Reese tosses her bouquet.

  We all gather around outside, watching the flowers take flight. Abby catches it, looks down in disgust, and hurls it into the air again.

  “Aw, why’d you do that? I wanted you to have it,” Reese says.

  “Yeah, no. I’m not getting mixed up with a man for a while.”

  Reese raises her dress some, so I can remove her garter, with pleasure. It’s got the familiar black-and-white checkerboard pattern.

  Clasping my hand around the garter, I lean closer, ripping it down her leg with a wolfish grin.

  “I could take you right now,” I whisper up at her when nobody
else is paying attention. I throw the damn thing over my shoulder, not caring if it lands on the moon.

  “Do you have to say that here?” She’s staring down at me, her cheeks cherry-red.

  “Hell yes, I do. You’re the perfect woman and it’s our wedding day.” I stand, enveloping her in my arms, whispering. “Let the honeymoon begin, darling.”

  33

  Is This Real Life? (Reese)

  At the airport, we’re hand in hand, each of us dragging a rolling suitcase busting at the seams.

  “Do you have the boarding passes?” I ask.

  “All we need is ID. We’re flying in style on a private jet, darling,” he says with a boyish grin.

  “You’re spoiling me sick,” I squeak.

  “I’m spoiling us. It’s our honeymoon and we need privacy.”

  A delighted gasp spills out of me.

  “Have I told you that I love you? I mean, aside from the other ninety-nine times today?”

  He pulls me against the wall, brushing my lips with his. “Make it an even hundred and it’s still not half as much as I love you, woman.”

  God, this man.

  Most girls only dream of fairy tales. I’m living one.

  And my immaculate prince leads me to the sleek plane gleaming under the stars, passing our luggage off to the waiting attendants.

  Hands on my hips, he guides me over to a red velvet couch I flop down on, kicking my legs up.

  I’m beyond punch-drunk.

  The plane looks more like some kind of lavish hotel rather than something that flies.

  “It’s loaded with snacks and drinks. Anything we’d want before we land in Key West. It’s a light crew since this isn’t a company event, so I’ll play flight attendant,” he explains.

  “Sounds good.”

  Nick leans over the couch and takes a blanket from a cabinet bolted to the side. He folds it around us.

  I’m not cold, but I don’t protest.

  I lean into my husband—yeah, still getting used to that—as he slides an arm around me. “This is nicer than Heron’s plane. I borrowed it coming back from Florida when I begged you for a second chance—and I’m pretty damn glad I did.”

  “You took a private plane back?” I whisper.

  “I tried to go commercial flight first, but I couldn’t get one soon enough. I had to get back to you, Reese. No delays.” The heat in his voice makes my heart somersault.