Chapter Twenty
AFTER THEIR OWN intimate pre-party, Natalie and CJ were fashionably late to the reception. It was in the exhibition hall of the Bliss Civic Center, and the room was packed. Tickets were sold out for the first time in ten years.
Mom would’ve been overjoyed. Of everything Natalie was grateful for today, that Mom’s final event had been such a spectacular success was near the top of her list.
All the newly wedded Knot Fest couples were being introduced on the stage where the Golden Husband Games winner would be crowned next. Linen-draped tables with elaborate floral centerpieces were scattered about the room. Waiters and waitresses circled with hors d’oeuvres. Cameras flashed, voices mingled over the string quartet playing at the opposite end of the hall. Two local news stations had crews on scene, and both had interviewed CJ already. Now, they were in the center of a group that included not only his family, but also several regular patrons from Suckers and a handful of couples from the Knot Fest committee.
“Your mom would be so proud of you,” Claudia Sweeney had whispered. She’d given Natalie’s hand a squeeze, and then let go so Vi could move in. “You did this, young lady, and don’t think we aren’t grateful.”
Elsie Sparks had stopped for an air kiss. “Thank you,” she’d said, and then moved on.
CJ had produced a tissue, proving once again how much he knew about women.
Natalie didn’t want tonight to end.
Even so, when she spotted Kimmie at one of the wedding cake tables around the ice sculpture, she squeezed CJ’s hand and excused herself.
Kimmie was in her bakery best—a floral sundress, orange sneakers, hairnet, and a white Heaven’s Bakery apron. Natalie gestured to the bandage across Kimmie’s temple. “Does it hurt?”
“Oh, no.” Kimmie’s self-deprecating snort rose above the din of the couples around them. “Not really.”
Natalie leaned closer. “Next time you want to play matchmaker, try not to cut yourself, okay?”
“I wasn’t supposed to,” she whispered. “I was just supposed to pretend to twist my ankle. Mom knows I’m bad at being a klutz, but she thought I could—”
Natalie grabbed Kimmie’s arm. “What? Your mom?”
Kimmie went pale. Her chin pulled in, and she took a step back. “I didn’t say that. Did I say that?”
Natalie followed, whispering fast. “I thought you and Lindsey set this up.”
“Me and—Lindsey! Yes. Me and Lindsey.” Kimmie nodded furiously. “It was me and Lindsey. Don’t tell my mom, okay? She’d fry my bacon. All that trouble with the hospital and Cake Readiness Condition Four… that puts her in a mood, you know? Did I tell you I had a dream—”
“Why?” Natalie said. “Why would she do that? Did Dad make her?” A commotion at the edge of her vision caught her attention. Josh was here. Marilyn’s secret silent partner. And he had supermodel look-alikes on each arm. “Was it him?” she whispered to Kimmie. “Did he have something to do with it? Ohmigod, she’s going to stop Dad from selling Bliss Bridal so she can buy it outright, and then move and get rid of him, isn’t she?”
“You know about him too?” Kimmie had gone past pale to ghost. “She’s gonna light my candles for this.”
“I’m not going to tell.” Natalie pointed to Kimmie’s bandage again. “After all you’ve done for me?”
“Since my candles are already lit, listen. Mom’s given up on buying Bliss Bridal. Crazy as it sounds, she values her friendship with your dad too much to keep causing problems.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. He’s been really good for her.”
Natalie gestured to Kimmie’s bandage again. “Did he know you were going to do that?”
“No, Mom’s too embarrassed to admit she played matchmaker after all the trouble she caused you. She won’t say that, of course, but I can tell. Nat, she knows you make CJ happy. And he makes you happy. And you being happy makes Arthur happy. Your dad says my mom’s been so invested in the economics of love that she’s forgotten the mechanics of it, and I think that made her stop and think. Don’t hold your breath for an apology or anything, but she’s trying.”
The commotion following Josh was getting closer. Kimmie’s complexion had recovered and was now in competition with the roses scattered over the cake table. “I need to go check on the stove. I think I left the water running,” she said. “Enjoy CJ, Nat. See you later.”
She scurried away.
Natalie gathered a few plates of cake, then headed back to join CJ and his family and their friends.
Their friends.
That had a nice ring. But he was leaving. And she’d have to live with that.
She was halfway to the group when another commotion near the stage caught her attention.
Two ovens were being rolled out.
The pit of her stomach met the floor.
Ovens.
She knew exactly what ovens meant.
“Nat?” CJ stepped up next to her. “Everything okay?”
“Ohmigod,” she whispered.
Elsie Sparks took the stage and approached the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Elsie said, “Golden Husband Coronation will begin in fifteen minutes.”
That was their cue. Their cue to line up for the crowning of the Husband of the Half Century.
But this wasn’t coronation.
Coronation would come.
First, there would be one last Game.
Because ovens meant only one thing.
A first-place tiebreaker.
BLISS LOVED TO draw out the drama, and they did it with flair.
The screen behind the stage flashed a slideshow from the Games. The crowd was whispering and murmuring and pointing to the ovens. CJ knew Natalie knew what they were for, but she wasn’t saying.
And now CJ was parading onto stage with Natalie and their fellow Husband Games competitors while the string quartet in back played the wedding march. They were in alphabetical order, which put Arthur and Marilyn beside Natalie and CJ. The music faded out, and the flash of the screen behind them dimmed, then stopped.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Elsie said into the microphone at center stage, “it is my distinct pleasure to present to you your award winners.”
Natalie had a death grip on CJ’s hand. She looked half-scared, half-excited.
All this would be over too soon. He’d miss her. He’d miss her more than he wanted to admit.
Elsie started the awards with a few goofy prizes presented first to the guys who hadn’t done so well. Most creative path through the sunflower maze. Longest letter. Most wives kissed before finding his own. Fewest screws used in the doorframe. Best gag reflex over the beets.
Soon, only half the couples were left.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” Elsie said, “what you’ve all been waiting for. The announcement of our Golden Husband.”
The audience clapped. A few people whistled. CJ’s family took up the Princess! chant again.
They were lucky he loved them.
Elsie opened the envelope. CJ’s pulse kicked up like he’d been out jogging.
He’d done well in most of the events. Duke and Elsie had transcribed his non-letter and posted it on the Web site for voting, but even then, CJ didn’t expect he’d win anything.
And he was okay with that. He meant what he’d said in place of his letter. All these men were better representatives of husbands than he was.
“Second runner-up,” Elsie said, “is Mr. Wade Sweeney.”
The video screen behind them flashed. CJ glanced back, saw pictures of the Sweeneys’ wedding and their families, along with a few pictures taken the last two days during the competition. Once the crowd’s applause died down, Elsie read a bit about Wade and his family. Wade accepted his trophy, kissed his wife, and exited the stage.
Nat squeezed CJ’s hand harder.
He took a glance up and down the row of remaining husbands.
Arthur.
Arthur would win
. He deserved to win. He was everything a Golden Husband should’ve been.
And one of the younger guys—the one whose wife was expecting. They’d performed great. They’d take first runner-up.
“First runner-up,” Elsie said, “is Mr. Joe Jeurgens.”
Just as CJ hoped. A relieved breath slipped from his lips.
Natalie’s hand trembled.
A little tremble, but a tremble all the same.
Arthur eyed CJ.
And while the Jeurgenses’ life played out to a Kenny Chesney song, CJ got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach.
The Jeurgenses exited the stage.
A hush fell over the hall.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Elsie said, “for the first time in Husband Games history, we have a first-place tie.”
The crowd gasped, then went wild.
Bliss knew how to throw a set of Games. Holy hell.
CJ’s lungs suddenly shrank to the size of a button.
Holy hell.
No. Just—no.
Natalie looked at her dad.
Arthur looked back. His eyes went misty over a sad smile, an expression CJ couldn’t read or understand, and Natalie reached out with her free hand to grip Dad’s.
“We will have one final event for the tiebreaker.” Elsie gestured to the ovens in front of the stage. “For our final, tiebreaking challenge, each of our husbands will be required to make dinner for his partner. Final judging will be based on the partner’s reaction to the meal, and also by a taste-test done by an impartial panel of judges picked from the audience.”
Partner.
She’d said partner.
“Your final competitors, ladies and gentlemen,” Elsie said, “Are Mr. Arthur Castellano, and Mr. CJ Blue.”
CJ’s family—his whole family—stood near the stage, jumping and yelling and celebrating.
Fiona was crying.
Bob was too.
But Natalie—Natalie was shaking her head.
She met CJ’s eyes. Mouthed, I’m sorry, then pulled her hand away. She’d already dropped her father’s hand.
Before CJ could begin to understand what she was sorry for, she marched away.
Right to Elsie Sparks.
CJ started after her, but Arthur stopped him.
Elsie turned, probably expecting CJ and Arthur. In her moment of surprise, Natalie stepped forward, and Elsie stepped back.
CJ moved again.
“Mrs. Sparks,” Natalie said into the microphone, “on behalf of CJ and myself, we respectfully withdraw from the Golden Husband Games.”
Her voice, clear and confident, echoed throughout the hall.
She’d captured control of not just the microphone, but the attention of every last person there.
“My father has dedicated the last thirty-five years of his life to Bliss and everything it stands for. He was a wonderful husband to my mother, and I would give anything if she could be here to see this today. I would say there’s no one in Bliss who deserves this award more, but it’s not entirely true.”
A few surprised gasps went up from the guests. Arthur inhaled sharply. His eyes went shinier, and his chin wobbled.
“There’s one person on this stage who’s given more. A person who’s been both mother and father, both husband and wife. She’s been married to Bliss for longer than I’ve been alive, and God knows I’ve spent a lot of time hating her. But she’s been a friend to my father when he desperately needed one, and so she’s been a friend to my family.”
This wasn’t like the cupcake incident. Sincerity shone in every syllable Natalie spoke. CJ’s chest swelled. With pride. With respect.
With love.
He loved her. How could he not?
She was magnificent.
She turned, looked back at her father and Marilyn, her eyes clear, her shoulders straight, her voice strong. “Marilyn, thank you for all that you’ve done for Bliss, and for all that you’ve done for my father.”
She wasn’t just magnificent.
She was ten times the woman Marilyn Elias was.
And if the crowd couldn’t see that, they were blind.
CJ didn’t care what title the Knot Fest and Husband Games committees wanted to bestow on any of them. He hadn’t played for a title.
He’d played to win her. Even before he’d known it, he’d been playing to win her. To give her this moment.
Natalie turned back to the crowd. “Please join me in congratulating the Golden Husband, my father, Arthur Castellano, and his partner, Marilyn Elias.”
She stepped back from the microphone so she was facing them. She met CJ’s eyes, only the barest hint of a question in them.
He grinned.
She smiled back, and his heart soared.
Arthur turned to CJ. “Go on,” CJ said. “She’s right. You deserve this.”
“Her mother would be very proud of her.” Arthur blinked against his ever-dampening eyes. “I am too.”
While he and Marilyn approached the microphone, CJ ducked behind the row of husbands and wives still onstage. Natalie mirrored his movements in front of the other couples, and neither of them stopped until they hit the stairs.
He loved her. She was his, and he loved her.
“Natalie,” a commanding voice boomed around them.
They linked hands and turned as one. Marilyn stood at the microphone, her shoulders draped with a royal red robe. Arthur was beside her, trophy in hand and a red velvet crown balanced on his graying hair.
“By the power vested in me by the Knot Festival committee, I declare your mother’s spot on the committee to be yours for as long as you’ll have it,” Marilyn said. “Thank you for your own sacrifices and commitment. You will always be a welcome member of The Aisle.”
Natalie inhaled sharply, put her hand to her throat.
Marilyn’s head dipped in a single regal nod. She turned back and waved at the crowd. A crowd that was now whooping and hollering louder than before while the spotlight rested on the true star of tonight.
And there in the spotlight, with her entire hometown cheering her on, Natalie smiled.
She smiled so hard, so big, so thorough, that the force of her smile made CJ step back.
It was a smile of absolute wonder and happiness. The smile of a woman who had finally found how she fit into her own skin, where she fit into the world, and in a single instant, it transformed her from his Natalie to Bliss’s Natalie.
To the Natalie she’d always been inside, but never allowed to be outside.
It was beautiful.
It was beautiful, and it was terrifying, and it was wrong.
CJ’s gut quaked. Deep, deep down, under his lungs, behind his stomach. It didn’t start as a small tremor. It hit hard and fast. A shiver crashed over his chest. His shoulders bunched.
The spotlight shifted off Natalie. Arthur’s voice overtook the noise in the hall.
Natalie turned her blindingly happy smile on CJ.
The quaking slid down his thighs.
She couldn’t want to stay. To give more of herself to the Knot Fest committee. To sacrifice her free time. Her self-worth. Her family.
Could she?
No. No, this was wrong.
Natalie skipped down the steps, dragging him along. They hit the ground behind a floral arrangement the size of Mount Kilimanjaro, and her verbal floodgates opened. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you first, but Dad can’t even boil water, none of us can, and it felt so right, and you—you know you’re golden too. Right?”
He needed to answer.
Just nod.
Breathe.
But he’d done it again.
Again.
He’d fallen in love with a woman who had a higher purpose.
“Will you stay?” he choked out.
He had to know.
He had to know that she thought more of herself than that. That she knew she was better than the games that went on in Bliss. That three sentences from Marilyn Elias—three se
ntences that didn’t include the words I’m sorry—weren’t worth shit.
He loved her.
He adored her.
He wanted her to have the life she wanted to have.
But he couldn’t stay here with her. Because if he told her he loved her, if he stayed, he’d make the same mistakes that had led Serena to leave him to go to war.
The tremors in his body reached his heart, and it doubled over on itself.
“Will you stay?” he repeated.
Her smile dimmed.
He’d broken her smile.
This wasn’t right. He didn’t want to break her. He wanted to save her from here. Save her from herself.
“Pepper’s offered me a place at the boutique,” she said slowly. Hesitantly. As if she didn’t know, which wasn’t like his Natalie at all.
But she wasn’t his Natalie. She never had been.
“It would be different, working for her,” she said, “and I didn’t expect this, but—but Bliss has always been home.”
“You’d stay.” CJ needed to shut up. He needed to shut up, and he needed to get out of her way.
But he couldn’t. Because he’d seen what she’d sacrificed to make this happen. He knew what she’d sacrifice to do it again.
And again.
And again.
Until it killed her.
Just like Serena’s sacrifices had killed her.
“CJ?” Her eyes were crinkling, uncertainty and hesitation dulling her glow. “What’s going on?”
He had to go.
Now.
Because she had to stay. She was born to stay.
To lead the Knot Fest committee into the next generation.
She had a destiny. A destiny bigger than her, bigger than him, bigger than both of them together.
Well, CJ, I’m off to war.
He loved her.
He loved her, but he couldn’t have her. Because he wasn’t a big enough man to live through being second in a woman’s life again.
She put a hand to his arm. “CJ?” she said again. “What’s wrong?”
“Thank you,” he managed. It wasn’t sufficient, but it was all he had. He brushed a kiss against her cheek. “Good luck.”
It wasn’t enough that he loved her. So he did what he did best.
Blissed (Misfit Brides #1) Page 31