“I still can’t believe they rented out the entire building.” Shelby shakes her head, grinning. “Weddings are usually pretty dull. This one…” She makes eye contact with a slow-swimming shark in a nearby tank. “Definitely not dull.”
“Oh my god, guys, come look at this!” Chrissy calls, waving us over to her spot beside the main ocean tank. “I think these turtles are about to do it!”
Like the totally mature adults we are, Shelby and I race over to watch the action with our faces practically pressed against the glass. Our giggles echo in the vast space.
Before Phoebe started touring potential wedding venues, I hadn’t been to Boston’s aquarium since I was a kid. Still, it’s hard to forget — the main attraction is a stunning circular tank over forty feet wide and about twenty-five feet deep, with an observation walkway that spirals around it from top to bottom like a corkscrew. Glowing tropical blue, it holds two hundred thousand gallons of water and over a thousand animals — including two very randy sea turtles.
Sipping our champagne, the three of us eventually drift away to give them their privacy and make our way up the spiral walkway, pointing out different fish as we go. I consider it a dry run for the wedding procession. Tomorrow, as the ceremony gets underway, the bridesmaids and groomsmen will congregate at the bottom of the tank and slowly make our way up to the top in pairs. At the surface, we’ll walk down a traditional aisle, then onto an elevated platform overlooking the aquatic exhibit. Phoebe and Nate will exchange their vows standing directly over a small ocean of sharks, stingrays, eels, and countless other marine creatures, in front of approximately seventy-five guests.
Anyone can get married in a church, Phoebe said when she announced her venue decision. But no one else will be able to say they had penguins as witnesses at their wedding.
Nate, bless his heart, didn’t put up a fight. He just looked at her in that quiet, intense way of his and said, Anything you want, little bird.
After they’re officially Mr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Knox, the entire aquarium is in bounds for exploration, with hors d’oeuvres by the jellyfish garden, dinner tables set up by the penguins, and a massive dance floor outside on the deck, by the sea lions.
Like I said — not your standard affair.
Shelby, Chrissy, and I eventually reach the top of the tank, where we find Phoebe and Gemma talking animatedly with a short-statured woman bearing a clipboard. We catch the tail end of their conversation as we approach.
“Yes, Miss West. We’ll have dinner standing by for the wedding party on the patio overlooking the harbor, once you’re finished with the rehearsal. You’ll have a wonderful view of the sunset as you dine and celebrate.”
“Great.” Phoebe smiles at the woman; it widens as she catches sight of us. “Chrissy! Shelby! Lila! You’re here! Great. Nate, Chase, and the rest of the groomsmen should be arriving any minute.” Her brow wrinkles. “Apparently they had a last minute errand to take care of, though I have no idea what they’re up to.”
The five of us exchange hugs. I have to extend my arms nearly all the way to wrap them around Gemma, her baby bump is getting so big.
“I know, I know, I’m huge.” She smiles, a soft light in her eyes. “Every day I wake up and wonder if this will be the morning I lose sight of my feet forever.”
I laugh. “Not forever. Just a few more months. And it’ll all be worth it, in the end, right? Because you’ll have an adorable baby to show for those swollen ankles and sleepless nights.”
Conversations die faster than a blonde in a horror movie. All four of my friends turn to look at me, identical expressions of disbelief etched on their pretty faces.
“What?” I snap, looking around defensively. “Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“Seriously?” Shelby asks.
“No reason,” Phoebe says pointedly. “Forget about it.”
Chrissy avoids my eyes; Gemma stares at her stomach.
I pin Shelby with a look — I can always count on her to be honest. (Occasionally, a little too honest.)
“We’ve just never heard you sound so… mushy.” She sips her champagne with narrowed eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with my commitment-phobic, child-hating, cynical friend Lila Sinclair?”
“Shelby,” Chrissy murmurs, elbowing her friend. “Leave her alone.”
“Oh, relax.” Shelby elbows Chrissy back. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing. I think it’s nice that Lila’s finally developing a heart. Kind of like the Grinch, when every Who down in Whoville sings—”
“Oh, or the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz!” Gemma nods in agreement. “Except way less shiny and without the shameless overdependence on fossil fuels.”
“Thanks a lot, guys.” I shake my head. “For the record, you’re all nuts. I’m just as cynical and heartless as I was when you first met me.”
“Riiiiight,” Shelby murmurs doubtfully.
“We totally believe you,” Chrissy adds.
“One hundred percent.” Gemma nods. “Even if you stopped speed-dating half of Boston’s single population in favor of more… exclusive pursuits…”
“Guys!” Phoebe snaps. “What did I say?! Leave Lila alone about this, you’ll freak her out.” She glances at me. “Look at her face! Do you see what you did? She’s freaking.”
“I’m not freaking!”
“She’s freaking,” Gemma murmurs.
“Totally,” Chrissy confirms.
“My bad.” Shelby shrugs.
My heart is starting to pound. “Listen, I don’t know what Phoebe told you—”
“Nothing!” she exclaims. “I told them nothing.”
“—but I’m not dating anyone. Certainly not exclusively.” I suck down a fortifying sip of champagne.
“So you and Blaze aren’t banging each other’s brains out yet?” Shelby asks point blank.
I choke on my champagne. Coughing to clear my throat, I wipe tears from my eyes and glare at her.
“What? Don’t look at me like that.” Shelby glances around at the others. “Oh, come on, it’s not like I can possibly be the only one who’s noticed those two staring longingly at each other over the past few months.”
“Shelby, I don’t know where you ever got such a crazy idea, but I can confirm that I have never and will never bang Luca Buchanan’s brains out! Ever! Is that clear enough for you?”
In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have said a thing. Or simply chosen to say what I said in a softer decibel. Or turned around to check who was coming up the spiral walkway directly behind me, at the exact moment I made my proclamation.
Because, it’s not Shelby’s voice that rings out to answer my question.
It’s Luca’s.
“Loud and clear, babe. Thanks for the public bulletin.”
Crap on a corn tortilla.
Phoebe wasn’t trying to make things worse. I know that, deep down. Still, I’m having a hard time forgiving her for concealing the fact that Nate’s fourth groomsman was not, in fact, a distant cousin from out of town but actually Luca.
“How could you not tell me?” I hiss at her under my breath.
“Maybe because I knew you’d react like this!” she hisses back. “Can you be mad at me later? I’m about to get fake-married, and if I fall into the tank in my favorite Louboutins I’m going to be really pissed at you for distracting me.”
Realizing she has a valid point — um, hello, we’re talking about Louboutins, here — I bite down on my cheek and turn to greet the boys as they approach. First in line is the groom, Nate, with his dark hair and even darker eyes that scan our group, taking in every detail with professional-grade scrutiny from his years working private security. Then Chase, his best man, sandy haired and smiling as his bright green eyes cut straight to Gemma and her baby bump. The Knox Investigations groomsmen bring up the rear — Theo, whose dark good looks, deep emerald eyes, and caramel colored skin are so attractive they should make him wear a hood to prevent traffic accidents, and Owen, a well-buil
t blond with a buzz cut and crystal blue eyes.
Luca is the last to reach us, looking stunningly handsome in dress slacks and a button down. It’s the most formal outfit I’ve ever seen him wearing — much more along the lines of my standard corporate dreamboat’s daily attire — and I’m bewildered to discover I don’t like it on him half so much as his regular look.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s absolutely gorgeous… he just doesn’t look like the Luca I’ve come to know and lo—
Danger!
I cut that train of thought off before it can gain any traction and turn my attention to Theo and Owen, waggling my fingers in a playful wave. They both grin back at me.
My heart seizes inside my chest as I watch Chase kissing Gemma hello, his hand resting softly on her rounded stomach. The sensation intensifies when I see Nate leaning down to whisper something in Phoebe’s ear that summons a laugh from her throat. The love between these two couples shines so brightly, I feel like an intruder even standing this close to them. As though I’m infringing on something so pure, just my presence will taint it.
When I glance away, I make the mistake of looking a fraction too far to the left… and am instantly trapped by two light blue irises, glaring out at me from a chiseled face. Luca looks just as furious as the last time I saw him, less than twenty-four hours ago on my doorstep after the best kiss of my entire life. Maybe more so.
I squirm, wishing I were invisible as he watches me in total silence. I can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t look away from him, even as I hear the conversations around us falling off one by one as everyone turns to watch our silent showdown. The tension between us is so thick, the air practically sizzles with it.
“Oh, yeah, this isn’t going to be awkward at all,” Shelby murmurs dryly.
Embarrassed, I blink and drop my eyes to my feet, in a vain attempt to hide my flushed cheeks. Phoebe saves me by changing the subject.
“So, what were you boys up to? What secret mission did you embark on that made you fifteen minutes late?”
Nate’s eyes crinkle warmly. “Not a secret — a surprise.”
“I hate surprises.”
“Sorry, little bird, you’ll just have to wait until tomorrow to find out.”
“But—”
“Phoebe.” He shoots her a look. “Don’t ruin your own wedding present.”
Her mouth snaps shut, not about to jeopardize a potential gift opportunity.
Grinning, Gemma claps her hands to get everyone’s attention. “All right, so the aisle will be over there — they’re not delivering the chairs until tomorrow morning, but it’s marked so you know where you’ll be walking. We’ll start halfway down the tank and work our way up in pairs once the music starts. Nate goes first, then the best man and maid of honor—” She glances warmly at her fiancé. “—Followed by the rest of you. Theo you’re with Lila, Owen’s accompanying Shelby, and Luca’s walking with Chrissy. And then... dun dun dun da da.” Gemma glances at her sister. “Forgetting anything?”
“The ring bearer — Chrissy, you’re bringing Winnie here early tomorrow, to walk him through it, right?”
Chrissy beams at the mention of her adorable toddler, Winston, who’s won the honor of carrying the rings down the aisle tomorrow. “He’s been wearing his tux around the house all week, practicing with Mark. Trust me, he’ll be ready.”
“Great. That’s everyone, then.” Phoebe smiles. I see a flash of sadness in her eyes and know she’s thinking about her big brother. Parker and Zoe are still on the other side of the world — they couldn’t make it back for the wedding. And, since Phoebe’s mom is dead and her dad is in prison… there’s no one to give her away. She’ll be walking herself down the aisle tomorrow.
She’s been putting on a brave face about it, but I know deep down she’s disappointed. It’s the one dark spot on her otherwise perfect day.
Phoebe clears her throat. “Oh, look — there’s our minister. You guys go line up downstairs, I’m going to make sure we’re all set for tomorrow. We’ll join you in a minute.”
She laces her hand with Nate’s and they walk over to greet the woman who’ll be officiating their ceremony. The rest of us descend as a group, Gemma, Chrissy and Shelby carrying most of the conversation. The Knox Investigations boys are many things, but chatty isn’t one of them. Small talk is not one of their specialties. In fact, when they’re not tracking down bad guys, they spend most of their time brooding sexily, occasionally grunting something bossy but monosyllabic at the women in their lives.
I roll my eyes.
Halfway down, we stop to stare at the fish in the pale blue glow of the tank. I don’t look at Luca, but I can feel his presence as keenly as if he’s an extension of my own body, hovering at my back.
Don’t think about his eyes on you. Or his hands, for that matter. And definitely, under no circumstances, think about his mouth.
The three minutes it takes Nate and Phoebe to join us feel like the longest of my life. I try to stay focused on the exhibit, watching a steady parade of fish swim by until the music starts drifting down from the overhead speakers. Tomorrow, there’ll be a string quartet playing, but we’re making due with a piped-in recording for the rehearsal.
“Guess that’s my cue,” Nate murmurs. With a final glance at Phoebe, he starts walking up the spiral.
The rest of us fall into line in silence. Theo looks down at me with a warm expression.
“Ready, partner?” I ask, smirking.
“Ready for the after party,” he mutters under his breath. “This part is just pomp.”
“Not a fan of weddings?”
“As a general rule, no.” His eyes scan me from top to toe. “This one, however, might be a special case.”
I open my mouth to respond, but before I can there’s a growling sound from behind me. I don’t even have time to turn around when Luca shoves his way through the procession and steps between me and Theo.
“Luca what the hell?” I hiss at his back, which is suddenly blocking my view of my escort. Gemma and Chase have already taken off — it’s our turn to depart.
“Problem, Buchanan?” Theo asks.
“Yeah. You’re in my spot.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’re switching.” His pause is lethal. “Move.”
“Why should I?”
Luca doesn’t say a word. I can’t see his face, but whatever threat he puts in his eyes is enough to make Theo — a thoroughly jacked, six-foot-two macho man — turn and walk away without a fight. The sight is enough to enrage me.
“Luca!” My fists strike the broad planes of his back. “You can’t just do things like this!”
He doesn’t even flinch.
I scream in frustration as several muffled giggles reach my ears. Pivoting toward my friends, I find Shelby, Chrissy, and even Phoebe staring at me with identical expressions of amusement. Owen, to his credit, looks just as bored as he did before the altercation. Taking his place beside Chrissy, Theo winks at me and shrugs, as if to say, Sorry, doll, what did you expect me to do?
Ugh! Men.
I’m about to slam my fist against Luca’s spine again when he spins around to face me in a blur of motion. His big hand intercepts mine midair, halting my strike before it can make contact. I struggle, but it’s futile — he’s far stronger than me. Looking totally composed, he tucks my palm around his forearm and steps close to my side. My mouth drops open to curse him again, but I don’t have a chance to get out a single syllable of my pissed-off speech because, abruptly, we’re moving.
Or, he’s moving.
I’m being dragged along at his side like a sack of potatoes. In a very expensive Elizabeth & James cocktail dress and four inch heels, no less.
“You are absolutely ridiculous!” I hiss at him as we ascend along the tank to the strains of classic wedding music. “Manhandling, misogynistic meathead!”
He doesn’t respond, except to tighten his grip on my arm as we begin another loop around the tank. Maybe,
when we reach the top, I’ll push him in and laugh as he’s eaten by a shark. It would serve him right.
“What happened to take your time to figure this out, Lila? Huh?”
“That was before.”
“Before what, exactly? Before you lost your damn mind?”
“Before I saw you flirting with Theo and—”
“I was being friendly!”
“—decided I didn’t want to share what’s mine.”
“I am not yours!”
He laughs — actually laughs - like I’m the one being ridiculous in this scenario.
I growl, but have no chance to say another word to him, because we’ve reached the aisle. My teeth grit as, arm in arm, we make our way toward the platform where Gemma, Chase, and Nate are waiting with the minister. Luca holds me steady so I don’t trip in my heels on the steps, which I’d normally be grateful for but, under the circumstances, only serves to infuriate me more.
He doesn’t even think I can handle stairs alone!
The utter nerve of this man…
We go our separate ways at the top of the dais, him to stand at the groom’s side, me to wait on the bride’s. I jerk my chin higher and refuse to look at him as the rest of the bridal party files in. The music overhead crescendos into crashing organs just as Phoebe steps into view. Dressed in a short white dress — which, for the record, does not give her back fat — she’s grinning ear to ear as she slowly makes her way to Nate. He watches her with laser-like intensity every step of the way.
As the minister walks them through a quick overview of the ceremony, they stare at each other with such joy you’d think they were getting married for real. Their happiness is so strong, it saturates every particle of air in this giant room. Gemma is already in tears, watching them. I can only imagine the waterworks during the real wedding.
Take Your Time (A Boston Love Story Book 4) Page 19