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

by Emma James

“Let’s get you back home.” We start walking, and I decide on a change of topic. Call me curious. “Speaking of friends and family, what is going on with Torque and Flora?”

  “Well, husband, now that you bring it up...”

  There isn’t any time I can dedicate to Flora after the ceremony because it is all about the photographs, and I am watching over the bridal party. Flora awkwardly excused herself from me to busy herself taking happy snaps of Bowie, then she disappeared with Juan and Holland, leaving some of his event planning team to pack up after the ceremony.

  I made sure to have a word in Holland’s ear, and he’s going to make sure he escorts Flora to her car for me, and they follow her back to the house.

  The bridal party surrounds me now as we wait around for the last pictures to get taken of the married couple.

  I admit it felt good having my arm around Flora while we witnessed Edge and Whisper’s wedding, but now my plus one is no longer near me, and I feel... well, I’m not sure how to put it into words. There’s this weird vacancy inside me.

  Am I left feeling—lonely?

  But how can I be lonely? I have all my friends close by.

  Yet I do.

  I’ve been listening to the flock of bridesmaids—who waited for all of five minutes after Flora left—to casually start talking about Flora’s character attributes, all for my benefit, of course.

  I know Joy put all these females up to what is going on here while she stands back, admiring her work, acting all Little Miss Innocent.

  I shake my head slowly at her.

  “What?” Joy looks pleased with herself.

  “I’ve already told both you and Levi, that saying ‘What’ every time you get caught out on something, doesn’t work with me. You stir the pot and watch your sisterhood at work with an amused expression.” I try to keep a straight face.

  “What?” Joy grins.

  Fuck!

  She’s going to play up tonight, I know it!

  “He did what?!” Edge’s jaw tightens. I think he is taking the news better than I thought he would.

  “Bowiiie!” Oh, dear, here we go. “Over here now!” He glares at the boy who is nervously looking over from where he stands with Harper and Presley.

  “Husband now is not the time; I believe you’ve forgotten what we’ve already discussed; hence, why I was going to speak to you later tonight about today’s events.”

  Edge takes a deep breath and focuses back on me. I didn’t miss Torque’s head whipping about, those golden locks of his blowing in the breeze, his eyes narrowing at the look on Edge’s face.

  “Darling, I need you to do me a favor and release the demons right now that are clouding your mind. A little boy was showing off for our daughter, and that was it,” I quietly tell him.

  “I am a little pissed at that. I am extremely pissed at Bowie because you could have been badly hurt if you fell wrong. He needs to know my pissed off level is high,” Edge growls a little louder for Bowie to hear clearly.

  “Coming Mr. Masson.” Bowie is walking over.

  “Daaaddy?” Harper runs toward us.

  “Dad...” Presley is jogging over, passing Harper and ready to backup Bowie. He knows what is on his father’s mind.

  His children coming to Bowie’s rescue softens the look on his face. I know my man is all show, but it is ingrained in his blood to protect what is his, but he also knows how he got raised for the first decade of his life. I don’t doubt my husband will be fair.

  Torque has his arms crossed over his chest, his legs spread apart while a hand slowly rises to meet his chin. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say the man’s body language reads like he’s thinking about getting all protective over Bowie.

  “Torque... you got something to say on the matter?” Edge says loud enough for the man to hear and keeps his eyes on Bowie, but doesn’t back down from the president of the Lion’s Den MC. He knows Torque is holding himself back from walking over.

  “Well, look at that! Torque is in deep with Flora already.” I can’t keep from gushing out loud. “The girls and I are going to have to see what we can do tonight.”

  “Christ! How am I supposed to scare the kid enough to be more careful if you are standing next to me already planning Flora and Torque’s wedding?”

  I wrap an arm loosely around my husband’s waist and nuzzle his neck. “Because you love me and you love your children, and you know Bowie is a good kid, he just did a silly thing, and if I can forgive you... you can forgive that boy. You know you are going to have as much fun as I will with the Torque and Flora possibilities.”

  “You don’t play fair, babe.” He pulls me into his arms and mashes a quick kiss with tongue to my mouth. “And you got that right. The man is already acting like a caveman over a kid that isn’t even his.”

  “The chances are with three boys, one of your sons is going to do a dumb thing in the future, and you will have to teach them the error of their ways.”

  All three children are now staring expectantly up at Edge.

  I go to unwrap myself from around Edge, to give him the space to do his scary thing. “Nope. You are staying right where you are, lady.” His arm snakes around my body, securing me hard against his solid frame.

  “Bowie, you got something to say to me?” Edge is standing a little taller.

  “Yes—”

  “Daaady…” Harper sing-songs his name. “Presley already explained that Bowie is a boy and boys don’t think straight around girls when they get to a certain age. He wasn’t thinking straight, so he decided to skateboard, and Bowie doesn’t know how to skateboard because he wasn’t thinking straight”—she’s not coming up for air—”Gramps and Torque took a tumble saving Bowie from hurting himself. Mommy was coll-coll—”

  “—Collateral,” Presley butts in.

  “—damage. She said she is all right, and nothin’ hurts, but I don’t believe her. Miss Flora, the neighbor, has been really upset over what happened”—she mimics a stage whisper—”Bowie has been worried you will be super mad, but I know you aren’t mad at any of them because Bowie is a boy who isn’t thinking straight around girls at this age... and I’m a girl.”

  Edge’s head swings around to nuzzle my neck to hide the laugh bubbling out. “What do I say to all that?” he murmurs against my neck.

  “Husband... I think Bowie has been sweating it out enough, let the boy off the hook. Flora has been super apologetic, and Bowie isn’t thinking straight around girls at the moment.” I stifle a giggle.

  “This parenting gig is hard,” Edge grumbles.

  “Yep, it sure is going to be fun when they are all teenagers.”

  He straightens. “Fu—udge balls, I can’t wait for those years,” he mutters deadpan.

  Now I do laugh out loud as Edge remembers to curb the language around the kids.

  “Bowie, I hear you’ve apologized enough for one day, and I’ll let your mom know I’m not an ogre. Just next time, try to take a minute to ask yourself: Is this a smart move? Might save shredded suits, a head from splitting like a smashed tomato and my beautiful wife from being knocked over—Yeah?”

  “Yeah... I’m really sorry. Sir, I also wanna tell you I’m gonna ma—”

  Torque steps in and swings Bowie away with his hand clamping down over his mouth while shaking his head. “Kid, learn when to quit, already.”

  “What’s he on about, Torque?” Edge isn’t going to let that slide.

  I think we can save that conversation for another day—or year!

  “Nothin’... just nothin’ you need to concern yourself with right now. Spend some more private time with your beautiful wife while I load the trio here up into the Hummer.”

  Harper throws her hands around Edge’s legs and looks up at him. “Boys...” Then she rolls her eyes, swivels her body around to Torque, holds her arms up in the air while her big browns are smiling up at him.

  My girl is quite the innocent little flirt, and she doesn’t even realize it.

 
I mouth “Thank you” to Torque when he bends down to pick her up.

  “Come on, Pumpkin, your dad really is gonna have his hands full one day,” he half jokes while shaking his head at her.

  She lays her head down in the crook of his neck. It’s been a big day already, and she has to get through until tonight.

  “Shit!” Edge rumbles, shaking his head at his daughter. “I’m gonna have to watch her, aren’t I?”

  “Innocent and wild, just like her mother,” I softly reply.

  Edge holds up one finger to signal me he’ll be back. Fuck, here we go.

  I’ve got everybody in the stretch Hummer, and I’m just waiting for Edge to help Whisper into the shiny Mercedes he hired.

  I lean up against the side of the Hummer, arms crossed, waiting for the inevitable.

  Edge reappears standing before me, giving me a shit-eating grin and slaps me on the shoulder.

  I cock an eyebrow. “Somethin’ on your mind, Edge?”

  “Anything or anyone on yours?”

  Fuck’s sake. I might as well get this over with, but I don’t have to make it easy. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I know why he’s doing it, but he can spit it all out now. I’m not one for being teased, and he sure as shit knows this about me.

  “So, you got your eye on Flora, I hear.” Insert rolling of eyes.

  I stand up. “Yup. You got any complaints?”

  “Nope! She’s a beautiful lady inside and out. She’s got a good kid...” He pauses. “Although I know I haven’t heard the whole story yet about why the kid decided to skateboard down a steep slope. Care to enlighten?”

  “Nope. I’ll leave that up to your wife.” My turn to give him a shit-eating-know-it-all-grin back.

  “Don’t know why you’re throwing me that look, and I don’t care, but two can play at this game.” Edge ups my shit-eating grin with a waggle of his eyebrows.

  “That’s something I would expect from Blueblood,” I grunt.

  “Now why you gotta go spoil my fun? I’ve never seen you interested in a female like I’ve been hearing the women chattering on about.”

  “So? What of it?” Not that I’m defensive. Much.

  “I got your back, Torque.” I hope he remembers those words when he finds out about Bowie’s vow of marriage to his daughter. “Flora deserves a good man to take care of her, and I don’t doubt you could be the man for the job. I’m all for being your wingman if you need any assistance. I’m sure Whisper will be your wingman too.” He laughs, walking away.

  Fuck’s sake. As if I need a wingman.

  I’ve just finished walking the back garden with Juan as he checked over his team’s work, but as the highly sought-after event planner, he and his staff had everything under control.

  I look around at the most beautiful reception/after-party a girl could imagine. It is “Oprah” worthy. The garden’s transformed into a shabby-chic fantasy garden in Tiffany-blue and pinks and gold.

  It is shabby-chic Tiffany’s meets Walt Disney’s imagination with something for the children including a teepee.

  There are three long wooden tables underneath an umbrella of fairy lights, and light bulbs strung across the branches of the trees.

  A dance floor got built over the swimming pool. Juan assures me it is “rock concert” strengthened with the appropriate materials so that nobody will be taking a dip accidentally tonight.

  Juan catered to all Edge’s little surprises he added to the list of things he wanted for the reception, and the dance floor was one of them. It is a fantastic use of space. You would never know there is a pool underneath the way Juan has handled the setup.

  Everywhere I look, there are more things Juan and his team thought of that goes beyond anything a mere mortal like myself could have dreamed up. Juan has outdone himself.

  One side of the large garden is dedicated to the guests lounging about on vintage sofas and wingback chairs with carved legs, of all shapes and sizes, covered in velvets of bluey-green, gold, and pinks. They look like they could have once belonged in medieval castles. There is also an assortment of wingback chairs; all scattered about facing the view, which is starting to twinkle below as it lights up for the night.

  The furniture is all from my shabby-chic line of rentals. My business isn’t small. I learned fast there is a lot of money to be made from vintage, bohemian, and shabby-chic furniture. I have a large warehouse showroom dedicated to that side of my business.

  I can see Happy from Peace café over at the outdoor kitchen space working away with a happy smile on his Samoan face. I’ve visited Peace in Ocean Beach many times and love the food and coffee and the whole atmosphere of the place.

  “Flora, thank you for all your help,” Juan says. He has quietly sidled up to me. “From the look on your face, you approve of all the magic we spread over the garden.”

  I look over at the man who has grown his hair out since I first met him. His style is more a younger Antonio Banderas circa Desperado, but he doesn’t have a strong Spanish accent. “I did nothing, Juan, it was all you and your team with Birdie’s input. You have transformed all this space into a truly magical place for Whisper, and Edge and the children are going to love it.”

  “Sweetheart, you have done more than you can imagine, your rental furniture is what is amazing. Having access to anything we wanted to use was very generous of you.” He cups both of his olive-skinned hands around mine and leans forward. “You made bringing the day together so much easier with how you source the most amazing pieces. I’ve just helped to bring it together, putting everything in its place.” Juan is such a nice guy, a gentleman, and a perfectionist.

  Juan’s lover waits by his side, looking smart in his suit. They are a beautiful couple who have been out on Ladies’ Night a few times with us in the past year. You can see how in love they are. Their manners are impeccable. I don’t get to see them much otherwise, but they always make me feel welcome. Holland looks more like he lives at the gym, but he spends most of his time at his art gallery called Freestyle. You will be forgiven for not realizing the man is gay when you first meet him. I’ve seen many a woman’s eyes drawn to him in open appreciation of his tall, dark, and handsome looks and impeccable dress sense, and when he talks, he’s got a sexy deep voice.

  Where Juan is lean and runway-ready, Holland is a man-mountain—even bigger than Slade—and gorgeous.

  “Well, everything looks truly fantasy-ready, and Whisper is going to be so pleased with the transformation. You should be very proud.”

  He looks so pleased with my comment. “I like to think we’ve outdone ourselves. We deliberately only let Whisper see a small amount of what my team has been up to. It’s been three days in the making.”

  Holland steps closer. “Forgive me for prying, but are you okay?” he politely inquires.

  “Why do you ask?” I play a little coy. I do hope it’s not because of Bowie.

  “We both heard via the grapevine about young Bowie and his miscalculated gesture to claim Lady Harper’s attention.”

  “Oh, my... news travels fast.” I try not to blush, but my face is feeling hotter by the second.

  Juan’s phone pings in his hand, so he quickly checks his message.

  “It does with this lot.” Holland tilts his head toward the steady stream of men making their way through the garden. The bikers from my row at Cuvier Park, have made their entrance.

  “The bridal party is headed back for the reception party”—Juan looks around—”and here come some of the wedding guests now trickling into the garden. Lincoln and Joel are at the front door directing the guests as they arrive.”

  I’m trying not to feel nervous about Edge’s reaction to Whisper getting hurt.

  “Sweetheart, if you will excuse Holland and me, we might take a trip over to Happy in the kitchen area to make sure everything is running smoothly from his end before the bride and groom’s arrival.”

  “Of course, you both go ahead.” I receive a hug from both of them be
fore they head for Happy in his area of the backyard.

  I look about thinking about who I can talk to even though I only know the bridesmaids and most of their partners, and none of them are here yet. Bowie is with the wedding party, and Edge and Mathias’ mother, Lily, will no doubt be inside the house somewhere looking after the two smallest children, Jagger and Colton.

  I decide to head for the bathroom to freshen up, saving me from standing here, not knowing what to do with myself.

  I start to walk toward where I left my clutch on one of the sofas when I can hear masculine voices behind me getting closer.

  A man steps in front of me, blocking my way.

  “Excuse me,” I murmur, trying to side-step the biker, but then another one stands in my path, and then I repeat my actions, and another one is blocking my way. What is going on?

  My body starts turning, looking for an escape route when I realize I am being circled by a bunch of bikers with various looks on their faces, ranging from raised eyebrows in question to flat out grins. They are the men from the row I was seated in at Cuvier Park.

  “So... little lady...” a handsome bald man says, rubbing his hands together, “what have you got to say for yourself?”

  “And you would be?” My eyes glide over his cut. He’s a member of the Lion’s Den MC.

  He points to his name above the pocket on his cut. “Ice is the name, and you still haven’t answered my question.” He wears a small diamond in his ear and has a bunch of chunky silver rings on his fingers.

  Although I am feeling a little out of my depth surrounded by these men, I know I need to stand my ground. They are a bunch of man-gossipers who are here to test me.

  I keep my mouth shut.

  “What’s the deal?” The Viking one rocks back on his heels as he pierces me with the bluest eyes. He’s rolled the sleeves up on his button-up shirt like he can’t wait to get it off.

  “Yeah, Kitten, I heard you’ve made an impression on Prez. So tell me, why are you so spesh?” Romeo—the prospect—is trying to save face after Torque banished him to babysit the Hummer.