by T. L Smith
“What is it?” I asked.
“I spoke to Celeste today, she wanted me to say hello to you.”
I nodded, although unsure where this was going.
Britta’s blue eyes watched for my reaction, but she wouldn’t get one from me.
“I didn’t realize you two were still close,” I said, indifferently.
She shook her head. “We aren’t,” she replied, nervously fiddling with the hem of her dress. “She rang to say she would be in town soon and wanted time for a catch-up. We spoke for about fifteen minutes on the phone. She’s doing well. Asked me how you were doing... many times. I thought that was odd.”
I laughed. It wasn’t so odd, but I couldn’t tell her why.
I didn’t know her all that well. She modeled for me sometimes but what I did know was that she was a gold digger. Why she would be contacting Britta after so long, I didn’t know and to be honest, I didn’t care. What I did care about was if she started dropping a few bombs about the fling we had. Britta didn’t need that sort of information under her belt.
“Must have made a huge impression on her,” she said, biting her bottom lip to stop the coy smile.
I chuckled at her suggestion. “Maybe... you’ll have to ask her.” Or not.
This time she didn’t hide the smile. “She eluded to enough.”
“Britta Valentino, I’m shocked you’re talking about the size of my cock to other women,” I gently reprimanded.
“What else do you think women do when we get together?”
“Talk shoes, lipstick... shit talk about stuff.”
“And gossip.”
“Well, I hope your gossip has somewhat satisfied your curiosities.”
She shook her head. “Further intrigued would be a more accurate statement.”
Changing tact, she watched as I reached into my pocket.
“Hand out,” I instructed.
Hesitantly, she did as told. “What’s this?”
Placing the object in her hand, she looked and gasped.
“Hawk! What...? Is this real?” She stared wide-eyed at the ring.
“It’s real, and it’s my grandmother’s.”
Britta vehemently shook her head. “Oh... no... no... I loved your grandmother. I’m not taking her ring.”
Reaching for her shaking hand, I took the ring and slid it on her finger. We both stared at it. Britta seemed mesmerized, and I... it gave me a feeling I’d never experienced before, and I wasn’t even sure what that feeling was supposed to mean.
“We are engaged after all.”
The words hung thick in the air.
This whole thing was designed to get back at Roman. Yet, somehow, it felt like we were sinking ourselves into something dangerously consuming. Something I wasn’t about to bring a halt to.
“This ring is gorgeous, Hawk. I promise to guard it with my life.”
I wanted to tell her that my grandmother had said on numerous occasions she loved Britta, as Britta loved her, and always said that one day Britta would have this ring. I always thought she was being facetious. But when I saw them giggling and laughing and Britta caring for the elderly woman as I would, I could finally see why Nan was so taken with her.
Britta was the girl you could take home to Mom... and Nan. She was also the girl you could fuck in the car while at the grocery store, and who would sit across from you in the limo possibly wearing no panties.
“It’s perfect, I love it so much.”
It was perfect, just like her.
It was vintage style, circa nineteen twenties and loaded with brilliant cut diamonds.
It was unique, just like Britta.
Britta’s natural beauty was so striking, she didn’t wear a lot of jewelry. But when she did, her taste was not for the run-of-the-mill type designs. As expected, she swooned over the ring now on her finger.
“I promise to look after it,” she said, looking to me. “But it’s not necessary. I’d hate for something to happen to it.”
“Britta, I know you. You’ll protect it with your life. Plus...” I winked at her, “... you’re my fiancée.”
“Hawk, I–”
The car came to a stop effectively cutting short Britta’s thoughts. Moments later her door was opened, and as the outside light filtered in, she turned back to me.
“Thank you, for everything.”
I nodded, feeling her sincerity. “I’ve always got your back.”
Accepting the driver’s hand, Britta eased out of the limo, and I followed.
Placing my hand on the small of her back, she shivered, goosebumps covering her bare skin. Leading Britta down the path, I could feel her stiffen. She was nervous and rightfully so. It wasn’t every day the betrayed was invited to a wedding by her deceitful ex and lying best friend.
The path curved around and immediately we saw a large group of guests mingling around the lush lawns of the winery in front of the chapel. Becoming daunted, Britta stopped in her tracks.
“Hawk...” she started, and I could hear the fear in her voice. “I don’t think I can do this.”
I lowered my mouth to her ear. “Brit, I know you’re more than capable of doing anything. Especially this. We have a plan. Let’s stick to it. Yes?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Now put on that dazzling smile you give me every day and show these fuckwits who they’re messing with.”
Britta reached to the side and took my hand in hers.
Today was undoubtedly going to be a test. A test to not punch Roman in his smirking mouth.
Confidently, we walked past the groups mingling on the lawn as the chapel bell sounded. I gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze to Britta’s hand as we approached the entrance. I knew she must have felt the impulse to run, but since she hadn’t, I could only assume she had her fears under control.
Up the few steps, we crossed the threshold, our eyes taking a moment to adjust. Inside, people were quickly finishing their conversations knowing proceedings were due to start. The first three rows are already filled on both sides with family and close friends of the bride and groom.
When we first entered, those people were chatting with their backs to the door. Within moments, however, silent word had spread like wildfire, and those very people had now swiveled in their pews to surreptitiously observe Britta’s entrance. There were plenty of curious frowns. Plenty of gossipy whispers.
“You’re better than them,” I said against her ear. The women ahead watched our interaction. They eyed me up and down, and then did the same to Britta. Feeling their scrutiny, she tucked herself closer to me as I steered her to a back pew. A woman in her late fifties, wearing a lavender lace dress and matching fascinator, approached, but it wasn’t until she opened her mouth that I recognized who she was.
“Britta Valentino,” she began in a nervous, plum-in-her-mouth voice. “I didn’t think you would come.”
Judging by the look in her eyes, I’d say she wished we hadn’t. Roman was her son, and no doubt she had her own opinion with regards to the breakup. Janice was the type of person who had an opinion on just about everything. And worse still, she believed those opinions to be nothing but right. She hadn’t been shy about sharing her thoughts on Britta when she and her nobody son started dating. But Britta endeavored to get her future mom-in-law on her side and tolerated the bullshit with a smile.
“I was invited. Roman was rather persistent in having me here.”
She nodded, her tell-tale eyes squinting slightly, assessing the truth in Britta’s words. “I know...” she paused. “Look, what happened between you and Roman is none of my business, but I’m sure there was no malice in it.”
“Have you ever had your fiancé and best friend sneak around on you before, Janice?” I asked, only to receive an elbow to the ribs by Britta. It seemed Roman becoming an asshole was a given since his mother was queen of them.
Janice had the nerve to look mortified. “No,” she practically spat. “No, they haven’t.”
<
br /> “Then I guess it’s hard to have empathy when it hasn’t happened to you. Two people you trust most in the world, sneaking off and—”
Another nudge.
“Janice... I’m sorry. I don’t harbor any ill feelings toward Roman and Rebekah. If I did, I wouldn’t be here. I only wish them well.
“We all do. Perhaps it was just meant to be this way,” Janice remarked, in an attempt to save face.
Britta, wearing what only I knew to be a fake smile, agreed with the wicked witch.
“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,” the minister called from the pulpit. “Please take your seats, the ceremony is about to begin.”
Britta smiled at me, and I pulled her in close, her hand covering mine.
Failing to move on instruction, Janice’s eyes followed Britta’s movements. More specifically her hand. And then when she saw it, her beady eyes turned as wide as saucers.
“You’re engaged?” she asked, passing a surprised look between us.
“Ah...”
“Yes,” I said before Britta’s good conscience got the better of her.
“Yes,” she concurred.
Janice turned to me, eyed the tattoos on my hands and those on my neck. She was debating whether to say what was on her mind. “Engaged... to you?”
I could understand why she asked. Roman and I weren’t exactly mirror images. For starters, he had a shriveled dick. I was a man. But that didn’t change the judgment in her tone.
I shrugged my shoulders indifferently and winked. “What can I say? Apparently, she likes my cock.”
More than two gasps were audible.
Beside me, Britta practically choked on her saliva. Janice looked a mix between mortified and aroused, and the woman in the pew in the front sitting with her husband was eyeing me off like I was a piece of meat for tenderizing.
Janice’s made-up face turned beet red, a string of incomprehensible words spilling from her mouth. She shifted awkwardly on her heel, and using the pews for balance, she staggered her way down to her seat at the front.
“Are you on drugs?” Britta mouthed. I couldn’t tell if she was pissed or not because she still seemed in a state of shock.
“No, babe. Someone had to shut her up.”
“Not like that!”
“It worked, didn’t it? Besides... there’s some partial truth in it.”
“I haven’t even seen your cock,” she hissed, but her breasts started to color.
“Not yet.”
Britta rubbed her forehead. “I need wine.”
Behind us, the doors opened, and Roman walked in with his groomsman in tow. Wearing knock-off Gucci suits, they made their way down the aisle laughing at a private joke before taking their place at the front.
Next to me, Britta was utterly still, her breathing shallow.
The music changed to something orchestral and the doors reopened. Everyone in the chapel turned to face the entry. One by one as the bridesmaids entered, I recognized all their faces. All but one were a part of the same friends’ group through college. The same friends’ group Britta had once been a part of... until recently. Until they were persuaded to take sides, and Britta got to see who her true friends were. Her brothers could insist as much as they wanted about her finding new friends, but once burned, twice shy.
I got it.
And so did she.
With all the bridesmaids lined in formation, smiles started to falter from sore cheekbones, then the bride made her entry. We all stood for the procession. Rebekah, wearing a Cinderella-style gown took to the red carpet. Her make-up was unattractively thick, hair pulled tightly back.
I watched Britta carefully as Rebekah went past us. She was composed. The only tell-tale sign was the slow swallow. She was about to witness her ex-best friend marry her ex-fiancé. All things considered, she was faring well. My hand moved to Britta’s lower back, my thumb running in rhythmic circles. She leaned into my touch but remained stiff as a board.
What a fucking predicament.
She deserved to have her mind distracted.
And I knew the very thing that could help.
Chapter 9
Britta
My stomach knotted painfully.
The contents of my gut threatened to revolt.
What was she doing here?
I knew every single one of the bridesmaids. Everyone except her.
Her brilliant red hair caught my attention first, and I recognized her as the woman from the party who kissed Hawk. Daring a sideward glance, I noticed a slight frown on Hawk’s face. He’d seen her too but quickly turned indifferent to her being there. I didn’t even realize she was acquainted with the bride and groom.
Having no time to dwell on the details, my thoughts were interrupted when Rebekah walked down the aisle in a dress I knew she’d wanted for years. She was one of those women who already had their entire wedding planned out long before she’s even met her Mr. Right. She glided past without a sideward smile to anyone, eyes only for Roman. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a pang of jealousy. Not because I wanted to be the one walking down the aisle to Roman, but because my two best friends had found love with each other and kicked me to the curb in the process.
Why in God’s name did I come to this?
Was it to prove I was no longer jaded?
Was it to show Roman and Rebekah I’d moved on?
Or had I been so caught up in our off-chance meeting that I had something to prove to myself?
That I wasn’t a loser?
The question remained, however. Why did Roman want me here?
I doubt Rebekah was too keen in my attendance.
Hawk’s thumb continued drawing small circles on my lower back. It was like he could read my thoughts, so his touch was soothing. My mind started to wander. In a chapel, as a ceremony was about to take place, one man’s touch was taking me down a trail of wicked, dirty thoughts. I wanted his large, strong hands on me, in places I longed to be touched by them. I wanted to feel his strength. His possession.
Rebekah reached Roman, and everyone took a seat. Hawk moved his hand so it clasped mine and I marveled at how natural it felt. And then I wondered how other women at the front of his advances had felt when he touched them. All the women Hawk met fell hard and fast for him. I could see myself not being the exception.
Hawk Carnage had been my college crush. And since then, I’d always been enamored when in his presence. He was the one I’d always wanted but was forbidden.
But when did Hawk start having a ‘thing’ for me?
I was a late bloomer. Awkward and shy. But once I entered the workforce, I’d blossomed in many ways. I’d filled out. My curves fell in all the right places and my body slenderized in other areas. I had noticed Hawk’s wandering eye back then, but anything more than a wandering eye had been strictly off-limits.
“Ladies and gentlemen...” the minister’s voice interrupted my thoughts, “... if anyone has cause or reason that these two people should not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
The chapel was quiet, all those present ready to see the happy couple wed. At the front, holding tightly onto Roman’s hands, Rebekah turned her face slightly, her worried eyes meeting mine.
So she had seen me.
She expected me to cause a scene.
She expected me to fight for Roman.
She expected me to give a shit.
I didn’t.
I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe.
When she convinced herself I wasn’t going to sabotage her wedding, she turned back to her soon-to-be husband and exhaled heavily.
So, she had a brief moment of fear about losing the one she loved. Of being humiliated.
And I felt a perverse sense of satisfaction.
Hawk squeezed my hand and placed it high on his thigh as the I-dos took place.
Ignoring the minister, I turned to Hawk. While his eyes were focused ahead, he was smirking.
“Yes?” he a
sked.
“You confuse me, you know that?”
Hawk focused his gaze on me, the five-day growth on his face making him irresistible. “As long as it’s in a good way, I’ll take it.” He turned back to watch the wedding.
I shook my head, stifling a laugh. “You’re so cocky.”
“Your cocky fiancé, to be precise.”
“Fake cocky fiancé,” I corrected.
This time, Hawk turned his intensity toward me, leaning down so our lips sat only an inch apart.
“Should we make it official?”
His words stunned me into silence. All I could do was blink. Hawk followed his proposition with his sexy as fuck wink and a quick peck on my lips.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister announced jubilantly.
The congregation clapped for the newlyweds as Roman lifted his wife’s veil and kissed her deeply. A few wolf whistles followed from some of Roman’s college friends, but all I could do was stare, too caught up in Hawk’s loose words.
Perhaps he was only joking.
Perhaps he said those things to lighten the mood, to take my mind off everything.
Everyone stood, and the happy cheating couple worked their way down the aisle, stopping to kiss and hug those closest to them. I prayed they didn’t stop at the last row where everyone in the chapel would turn and stare, watching the interaction. Fortunately, after they made it about halfway down the aisle, they hot-footed it the rest of the way, bypassing without so much as a glance.
Hawk had been holding my hand the whole time, and as the flower girls threw pale pink petals over the couple, all I could think about was the man next to me.
“Shall we, fiancée,” he teased me as we fell into step behind the last few guests making their way out into the bright sunshine.
As I took to the last step, Roman’s father spotted me and offered a wave and a smile over the heads of the other guests. I waved back, genuinely always having liked the man. Janice noticed with a double take, and placed her hand on his forearm and led him in the opposite direction. She still was a damn dragon. Seemed not much had changed.
She suddenly became the least of my worries.
“Hawk...” I started, gripping his arm. “People are staring.”