Hitched: Spinoff from the Dark Romance Thriller Series: Edge and Whisper Are Getting Married

by Emma James

  One neatly styled eyebrow starts slowly, traveling up Evelyn’s forehead. I can’t pull the wool over her eyes. “All the time, honey.”

  I try again to deflect the conversation away from me. “I don’t need fussing over. I’ll go wash my hands, and then I’ll be good to go.”

  “Really? You think Edge will be pleased with me for ignoring the injuries, no matter the size, of the woman he’s madly in love with, not to mention overprotective of?”

  “Well... umm, when you say it like that.” She’s right. I would be pissed off if Edge was hurt and he denied her caring for his injuries.

  “Sorry for being so blunt, but you haven’t got time to beat around the bush. Only way to say it is straight up. Now hands in the air, honey.”

  I comply because the clock is ticking.

  Evelyn screws her face up. “Shoot! That’s gotta hurt? Road rash is all about the burn.”

  “Well, now you’ve made me focus on the pain... yeah... my skin is hissing like an angry mountain lion.”

  “Are you hurting anywhere else?”

  I show her my left elbow, wincing as I move it. She’s instantly in doctor-mode, gently holding it in the air, moving it about. “Nothing is broken. Your elbow did cop the extra brunt of your body weight landing hard on it, but thankfully you are a super light weight. You’re going to have bruising. The grazing isn’t as bad as your palms, but you will be sorer there tomorrow. Time to get you inside and crack open my medical bag, which I wasn’t brave enough to leave at home even for your wedding day. I know there are going to be a few more ‘boo-boos’ between those three down on the road,” she says as matter-of-factly as only a woman and a doctor who has seen it all with Boxer and his men—not to mention me—can sound.

  “Not before Boxer, Torque, and Bowie make it back up the hill.” I am stubborn when I want to be.

  Evelyn lets out a heavy breath filled with resolve. One she probably keeps for Boxer and his men when they claim to be perfectly fine—when they aren’t.

  “On the plus side, I just earned myself some pocket money,” she says, barely audible.

  “What?”

  “Oh, nothing, just a game Boxer and I play.” She swipes her hand casually in the air then does a one-eighty on our conversation. Look who is playing the deflecting game now! “Honey, your dress looks good from the back, considering, but we might just have to dust it off a little once we get back inside.” She produces her phone, head down typing away but still manages to keep up the conversation. “I know we will be making a trip back inside the house regardless. We need to regroup after that stuntman display by Boxer and Torque,” she says sounding very proud of both of the men for rescuing Bowie.

  Evelyn looks back up at me after finishing her message with a smile on her face. “You’re about to be bombarded by bridesmaids. I’ll get my medical bag from the Hummer and be back in a jiffy.” Boxer’s British slang is slipping more and more into Evelyn’s vocabulary.

  I turn to where the girls have helped each other out of the Hummer limousine. They’re all looking over at me with worried expressions on their faces. It would make for a great candid picture. Today I need to find the positive, even in the little things.

  Faith, the blonde-bombshell Jessica Alba look alike (Fantastic Four circa 2005) is holding hands with Harper, stopping her from bolting across the cul-de-sac to me. We all know the chances are high she will trip over, and we don’t need another girl down.

  Faith leans down and talks in Harper’s ear until she stops straining to get to me. She nods her head, and I give them the double thumbs-up sign and then a short wave, careful not to expose my palms as I mentally relay “everything is wonderful here” even if it is a porky-pie.

  Faith points toward the house, silently asking if she should take Harper straight back into the house for me.

  I nod in reply.

  “It’s okay, Harper, I’ll look after Mom,” Presley shouts out. He’s back by my side.

  “Presley, do you think you can go with Faith and Harper and take them back inside the house and look after your sister until I come inside?”

  He looks up at me. “I get the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me, Mom.”

  I laugh at how intuitive he is for his age. “I think you may be right; tell her I love her, and I’ll talk to her in a few minutes.”

  “I’ve got you covered.” He begins walking away, pauses, looks back at me over his shoulder. “Bowie has a crush on Harper,” he says casually. “I’ve known it for a while now. It’s not his fault. The man in him wants to show-off around her, but the boy in him isn’t ready for that kind of commitment. I mean, look at what he just did. He’s been asking me questions about how to get a girl’s attention. I always knew he was talking about Harper. He confirmed it when he was too distracted staring at the Hummer, hoping he was being watched. It just doesn’t look good from where I’m standin’ if you want to impress a girl.” He shakes his head. He lets out an exaggerated deep sigh. “I’m gonna have to have a guy-to-guy chat with him. I don’t mind he wants to impress my sister because he’s my best friend and he’s harmless, but he might need to wait a few years until they’re both older before he tries to impress her again.”

  A few? Try at least a decade!

  I’m always surprised by the words of wisdom that leave my son’s almost eight-year old mouth, and even now, he makes me smile, although, I should not see the amusement in what has just taken place. Bowie has a crush on Harper?

  “Whisper, sweetheart, are you hurt?” Hope asks on behalf of my bridesmaids. They’re all beside me, looking me up and down with a sea of worried looks on their faces. She’s so sweet and at the same time has that naughty secretary look about her with her glasses perched on her nose and her hair in a Bridget Bardot style ponytail.

  “We all saw what happened.” Will is walking around me, searching for damage. If Elle Macpherson had a doppelganger, Will was it. Long, straight, brown hair and that supermodel figure that only the crème de la crème supermodels possess—and crazily enough, she isn’t one. I thought my legs were long; hers are worthy of the best-legs-in-the-world award.

  “Your hands,” Birdie gasps out. She’s so pretty with her blonde pixie-ish hairstyle.

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” I brush away all the worried looks. “I’m okay. Nothing a Band-Aid or two won’t fix,” I joke. “Evelyn will sort me out, and we will all be back in the fancy Hummer sooner than later,” I say in a cheery voice like I didn’t just watch a boy almost smack into the back of a parked pickup.

  “What can we do to help?” Joy’s stepped onto the girl-power train. She looks like a gift-wrapped Tiffany & Co. present with her silvery/white colored hair, styled in that pinup girl look she favors with a scarf threaded around it all compliments her bridesmaid dress.

  “Honestly, I would love you all to go enjoy a glass of champagne and wait until we are ready to leave and keep an eye on the kids.” They all know I am not the type of woman that wants to be fussed over. Edge and Boxer are about the only people I give an all access pass to be protective of me. “I’ll come join you once I have a quick talk to Bowie’s mother.”

  “Of course,” they all reply in chorus.

  “Thank you. If you girls head on inside, I’ll get word to Edge via Lincoln and let him know we’re a little behind.” With a carefully edited version of what went down. The official photographer and the video technician—both Faith’s employees—have already left for the ceremony to get some arrival photos and video footage. “Could you please ask Faith to call her staff so they know we are delayed?”

  “Sure can,” Birdie answers for everybody.

  My friends walk off, knowing I am in capable hands with Torque, Boxer and Phoenix and they can see Evelyn is walking back over.

  I don’t sweat the little things, and I classify this as the little hiccups of life. A small child showing off for Harper doesn’t even rate on the disaster-that-my-day-could-turn-into Richter scale. My hands and elbow w
ill be tender for a while, but I’ve had much, much worse done to me.

  Hashtag win.

  I pick up my clutch and dig my phone out.

  Damn. I haven’t replied to Edge’s erotic novella he wrote me and I again forgot to press ‘send’ on my courtyard message. I quickly rectify my mistake adding a funny gif to make him laugh. I explain although I love a sexting session, I need dry panties for the ceremony. I hope this will buy me some time before I need to explain with a half-truth of why we are running late. For now I let him think we are on our way in ten minutes.

  Now, for Zayne and Devil; I can’t have them alerting Edge when they see us coming back through the courtyard. I decide to tell them the truth in a message and threaten them with loss of wedding cake if they say anything to Edge before I can tell him myself. Not the best of threats, I know, but I can be persuasive.

  A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to make sure her wedding day doesn’t get any more wrinkles in it. I need my man to stay where he is instead of hijacking a motorbike and roaring over here.

  I figure I have about ten minutes in bad traffic up my sleeve before I have Edge wondering where I am.

  If this is as bad as today can get, then I’m going to be one lucky woman.

  I subtly recheck my watch.

  I would have thought by now Torque would have messaged me a code to say the stretch Hummer was on its way. I’m not worried. Torque’s there to play bodyguard and Gramps can handle himself.

  Nothin’ to worry about.

  Nope. Aaall good.

  I concentrate on the sea of family and friends sitting before me, who fill the chairs lining both sides of the carefully designed aisle in the Wedding Bowl area of Cuvier Park.

  Juan’s people hand out fancy umbrellas, in greeny-blue and white, with EDGE & WHISPER ARE GETTING HITCHED printed onto them to shade the guests while they wait.

  I take this time to think about the most loving family unit a man could ask for, including my extended family: Mathias, my mother, Boxer, Doc Evelyn, and all my MC brothers, and a crew of extended friends collected along the way these past years.

  My eyes lock onto Lily, sitting in the front row, all the way from Norway. I could never have dreamed of reuniting with my birth mother and discovering I also had a sibling, but it did happen.

  Mom doesn’t even seem to care how late my bride-to-be is because she’s got her arms full of baby Colton—our three-month-old—with grandma-love painted all over her. Our baby is such a happy little fellow. He eats and sleeps without any trouble.

  Lenny, almost ninety years young sits beside my mother, still very much a part of our lives. He’s family and still plays his saxophone and trumpet on Sunday’s to the lunch crowd at Joe’s Bar. He doesn’t much look like hanging his instruments up for a while.

  He’s playing with Colton’s chubby hand. Lenny’s old face is all lit up like a kid himself, watching Colton’s reaction to him as my son’s little fingers latch on tight as he tries to shove the old man’s dark-skinned hand in his mouth unsuccessfully. The little guy likes to taste everything.

  Our seventeen-month-old, Jagger, is being held in the secure and capable arms of Mom’s fiancé, Jakob, who’s acting very gentlemanly by shading one of the fancy umbrellas over his woman and the little ones. He’s a good man. I know this because I had Joel check him out and he dug deep. It had to be done. I wanted the best for Mom and she has it in Jakob.

  Doc Evelyn managed to deliver Jagger in our garden without any complications, just as the paramedics arrived. I know Whisper was frightened giving birth to Jagger because Cruz’s death has scarred everybody.

  I fiddle with Cruz’s ring. It’s a habit I do often. Losing a child is an extremely painful thing for the heart to bear. It’s been three and a half years since we lost him and it still feels like yesterday. You live life around the pain that’s just always there lying about.

  I’m lucky Mathias was there for Whisper, even though he later admitted to me he nearly “shit a brick”—as Boxer would say. Hang around the British guy long enough, and you too will be latching onto his slang.

  I took eight weeks off work before Colton’s due date, to reassure Whisper I would be there for our family 24/7. My brother virtually shoved me out the door of Masson and Schenk, revoking my security pass, but I sure wasn’t gonna take any chances leaving Whisper unattended for a second. I had learned my lesson with Jagger’s birth.

  Joy, Levi’s wife, stepped in to help with the custom bike workload, which pleased the male customers to no end. Business was better than ever while Joy was under Masson and Schenk’s roof.

  Colton entered the world on time, arriving without any medical dramas. I was there to get Whisper to the hospital early and she even had time for an epidural.

  We weren’t planning another pregnancy so soon with Jagger only five months old, but a night away without the kids, with unprotected, hot, passionate, dirty sex stitched that idea right up. My little guys did a lot of breaststroke that night. Whisper didn’t expect to get pregnant straight away. Apart from the twins, it always took several months of unprotected sex to seal the deal.

  I could never have predicted my life could turn out the way it has with four beautiful children and a woman like no other. We want more babies and Whisper is down with that. She’s all about the next five-year plan. I’m happy to be her mixologist and assist in concocting as many baby cocktails as her heart desires. Hell… just call me John Walton Senior.

  The only thing that could make today better would be if we could have Miss C alive and well and sitting right next to Lenny.

  Lily looks up and waves, beaming her big smile at me. Another album will be filled up with memories she takes back to Norway with her.

  Jakob points to me, and Jagger starts chattering, “Dadda-dadda.” One of the best fucking sounds ever.

  Jakob’s known as a silver fox, according to Whisper’s friends. He’s got silvery-gray wavy hair and wears his beard close shaven. He’s lean with a swimmer’s body including the broad shoulders. He’s eight years younger than my mom, carrying around fifty-one years with ease. Throw in ex-military and a successful businessperson to boot and he’s quite the catch, but most importantly he looks at my mom like a man in love should. Fires are blazing in both sets of their eyes whenever they lock onto each other. They’ve found their happily-ever-after.

  It helps knowing Mom has a strong, protective male in her life, when she lives so far away from me. He is a widower with two grown kids of his own, so he knows how to wear that hat.

  My phone vibrates again, and a sense of relief flows through my body. It will be Torque checking in.

  I check my messages.

  No Torque. But I do have another fun message from Whisper letting me know she’s nearly on her way, but boo to dry panties.

  My woman thinks to tease me. I laugh under my breath, visibly relaxing. I didn’t realize how tense I am until Whisper updates me.

  Zayne and Devil are on for this shift so they would have been getting an eyeful of my beautiful woman as she posed for me. I’m a little jealous they got to see her in her wedding dress before I did.

  Mathias tilts sideways comically to talk in my ear. “Gather the bride is on her way? That message must be PG13-rated.”

  “What? Why?” I hold the phone against my chest.

  “No stiffy this time,” he whispers and laughs.

  “Brother, you gotta stop looking at my dick,” I tell him dryly.

  A camera goes off, and I look up to see one of Faith’s photographers taking a candid photo of my brother and me.

  Mathias laughs softly. “I’ll be getting a copy of that one.”

  Evelyn returns with her medical bag. “I know you won’t budge, Whisper, until you see for yourself that the dynamic duo are okay, so let’s waste more time, standing here watching them walk up the road instead of coming inside and letting me clean your hands up.” She sighs, resigned to the fact she knows me very well. “They’re big boys. No matter
the damage, they won’t like me babying them,” she says, adding a well worn-in sigh. “The way Boxer landed, I’m sure there will be a stitch or two involved and no doubt that backup suit I ordered will be coming into play, although I really did think I was being a little over the top ordering it, but obviously not.” She knows the love of her life very well.

  The freelance business Boxer runs from behind the façade of Masson and Schenk Custom-Made Motorcycles often comes with a heavy side order of medical treatment from Evelyn—saving a kid on a rogue skateboard doesn’t even wrinkle the surface of what the men have to contend with on an assignment.

  Torque’s arrived with Bowie, who looks unharmed, thank goodness, but looks can be deceiving.

  “Torque and Bowie, are you hu—?”

  “Whisper, are you okay?” The big guy slice’s through my concern, looking at me with a critical eye.

  “I should be asking you that—”

  “No fussing, not my wedding day.” He waves a hand swatting my concern away.

  Evelyn crouches down to Bowie’s height. “How are you doing little man? Are you hurt?” She’s biding her time with Torque, knowing he doesn’t like to be fussed over. I take her silent advice and do the same.

  Bowie looks sheepish. “Nah, I’m good.” He looks at Evelyn then up at me. “I’m so sorry, Whisper. I love Harper, and I was showing off, and it all went wrong.”

  “Say what?” Did I hear correctly? Presley said nothing about love. He said told me crush.

  “Not this again,” Torque grumbles. “It would appear the kid took his brother’s skateboard with no idea how to ride one and was doing it all over a boy crush,” Torque further explains with his arms folded across his chest. “Kid thinks he’s in love with Harper.” He produces an eye-roll then adds, “Oh, and hold onto your dream unicorns, he’s gonna marry her too.”