Winner Takes All: Checkmate, #7

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Winner Takes All: Checkmate, #7 Page 9

by Finn, Emilia


  And that person is special to me. I love him, and I wish he had someone that would understand him and accept him for whatever he’s done under orders.

  I don’t often find the positives in the fact I’m so small. In fact, I blame my size for a lot of my problems, because just maybe, if I had a little more fat on my bones, my life might have worked out differently over the years.

  I mean, probably not. But there’s always that small sliver of wondering that is as useless as my efforts to escape Spencer’s glare.

  But right now, I embrace my size, because the best part about being one of the shortest people in this church today is that when everyone stands for Jess, when they turn and whip out their phones to film her making her way toward her groom, the bodies between mine and those at the front shield me from Spencer’s glare, and break the hold he’d locked me into.

  Don’t look again, Abigail!

  I pull in a greedy gulp of air when I’m free and finally remember to breathe, swallowing down the lump of nerves that lodged itself in my throat.

  I feel like I’ve run a marathon, which is ludicrous, considering I haven’t run since my sophomore year in compulsory gym class.

  I press a hand to my chest, and study the collar of the shirt on the man in front of me. I don’t know who he is. I don’t know who most of the people here are. I know the Checkmate people, because of Jess. I know some of the fighters, because of Bobby Kincaid’s constant business. I know one or two of the first responders, because of Mitch and Nixon. But that only covers a small portion of the people in attendance, which leaves me freely able to keep my eyes down and not have to talk to anyone else sitting in the back.

  When the music comes to an end and Jess stops at the top of the aisle, the guests hush and sit. Children squawk, and some of the older people clear their throats.

  I smooth out my skirt, then sit and study the program that was waiting on the benches when I arrived, but when I feel a heat burning the top of my head, I look up and find those eyes again.

  Dang it.

  7

  Spence

  Kane and Jess’ officiant has three seconds to take care of business before Jay jumps out of his skin and takes over. He looks cool, unaffected, like he’s behaving, but that has a lot to do with Angelo holding him down and threatening a de-balling if he doesn’t pull his shit together.

  Jay and Angelo have had somewhat of a rocky start to brotherhood, in that Jay thinks Angelo should fuck right off, and Angelo doesn’t care enough to step up and fight about it. So Jay wages a one-sided war, and Angelo coolly holds him down and gives the celebrant a look that speaks of hurrying the fuck up or moving aside so Jay can have his time in the limelight.

  “I welcome you.” The celebrant lifts his arms and calls everyone’s attention. “Please. Please,” he repeats. “Pease be seated.”

  Abigail is like a beacon in a stormy sea, a lighthouse for a weary traveler, but when everyone stands, she becomes invisible. Even in heels. Even with that hair, she’s just too short to compete, so I bide my time and wait for Reverend Hannah to take charge, and the very moment everyone sits, Abigail’s eyes come back to mine, and she becomes my prisoner once again.

  She breathes heavily, so her chest lifts the bust of her dress, then drops down again. She looks different today. She wears something that actually molds to her shape.

  I was wrong when I accused her of being shapeless. She has a shape alright, and wearing that gown, it’s impossible for her to hide it. I don’t know if she’s had a boob job in the last week, or maybe bought a really skilled push-up bra, but she has enough going on that it holds her dress up and makes a man take a second and third look. Her delicate shoulders peek from the sleeveless garment, and though they’re rail thin and the bones jut out too sharply, they’re also kinda beautiful, delicate, and tempt me to run my finger over her protruding collarbone.

  No, Spencer!

  Abigail’s biceps are almost non-existent, but a long scar that pinkens the area gives me pause.

  I know scars. I know how they feel, and the pain you endure while they’re healing.

  “First, I’d like to begin by welcoming you all today, and thanking each of you for being here on this most wonderful day.”

  Reverend Hannah works his way into a long diatribe about how all of the guests are special, how everyone has a special place in Kane and Jess’ hearts, how we’re their support system, and it’s our responsibility as their friends and family to hold them up when they need it.

  We don’t need to be lectured in a church to know that, and neither Kane nor Jessie nod along and act like they care what he’s saying.

  I could look to my right, and see the couple holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes. I could pay attention to the words they say in silence, the sentences spoken slowly enough that they can read each other’s lips. I could even help Angelo hold Jay still, because Jay is tempted to knock Hannah the fuck out and take over.

  But my eyes don’t leave Abigail’s, because hers are bicolored and lined with extra-long lashes, and I can’t seem to look away.

  “The most wonderful moment in life is when you meet the person that completes you. The person who makes your world a better place. The person with whom you share a bond like none other.” Hannah coughs to clear his throat. “Even if you’re a twin.”

  His cheeks warm when he succeeds in dragging a couple low snickers from those who watch on.

  “When you find that one person in life, you’ve found your other half. If he is dark, then she must be light. If he is scared, then she must be brave. I’ve had the wonderful opportunity to meet with Jess and Kane over the last month. We’ve discussed their goals as a couple, as parents, and as a loving unit. We’ve talked about weaknesses, fears, strengths, and limitations. And do you know what I’ve found?”

  It’s like Hannah waits for an eager student to lift their hand, though of course no one does.

  “I’ve found that they’re the perfect match. The yin and the yang. The day to the night, and the sun to the moon. They’re the perfect pieces to one puzzle, because where one struggles, the other exceeds. Where one needs a little help, the other reaches back and lends a hand so they both succeed. They have the same mountain to climb, and neither will go on without the other.”

  The longer I stare at Abigail, the redder she burns. Her eyes are large, too large for her face, but in the most beautiful way.

  It pisses me off that I study her rather than my brother, as he marries the woman of his dreams.

  Kane has finally reached the top of his mountain. He’s there with Jess by his side, and he’s just days away from becoming a father, but instead of being present for him in his victory, I can’t release Abigail from my stare.

  I’m scared that if I do, she might turn and run away. And I’m not ready for her to go.

  The ceremony blurs in the side of my consciousness while I stare at Abigail. Time stands still, so I could be standing here for a minute, or hours. I could be here for days, and I wouldn’t know, because the electricity blazes between us as she meets my stare with her own. It’s not like with other women, where I’m looking to hook up and slap their ass on their way out. I just… I can’t stop looking, and I don’t understand why.

  As requested by Kane, Eric says a little something on the sanctity of marriage. Jay wouldn’t know, because he’s never been married, and I wasn’t asked for the same reasons. But Eric knows, so he takes a few minutes to talk about communication, about love, about loyalty and trust. He talks of how time can slip through their fingers, so they should hold on tight and not take a single minute for granted.

  And all the while… I. Can’t. Stop. Staring. At. Abigail.

  She doesn’t stare at me like most women do. I’ve never bedded a woman that wasn’t looking for the same as me. They knew the score, and not one of them came to me with the innocence.

  But Abigail’s eyes shout of virtue, of inexperience, and again, I circle back around to delicacy.


  She’s fine china, and I’m the bull that shouldn’t be anywhere near her or her shop.

  When Eric nods and our crowd claps, when he steps away from the podium, kisses Jess on the cheek, and hugs Kane, Reverend Hannah steps forward and agilely snatches the microphone before Jay gets the chance. The old coot is fast for his age, or maybe he’s been warned that Jay is hunting for his place on that marriage certificate.

  When Eric resumes his place beside me, and Kane and Jess face each other once more, shit gets serious, because Hannah opens his bible and begins reading.

  “Dearly beloved and honored guests. We are gathered here today to join Kane Bishop and Jessica Lenaghan in holy matrimony.” He knows his job, because he continues speaking even while he studies his enraptured crowd. “Marriage is not a contract that should be entered into lightly, but with deep thought, and with all of your heart and soul. It comes with obligations and responsibilities, and once begun, should not be left up to chance, but nurtured every day with all of the love and care you’ve practiced leading into now.”

  Abigail’s eyes flicker away from mine for a beat as Jess passes her bouquet back to her sister. This entire church is draped with flowers, on the chairs and in vases. Long-stemmed flowers hang from the walls, and a huge part of me wonders how the tiny florist lugged all of that heavy shit in here. Did someone help her? Did anyone offer to carry the load, or to hang them up, so she wouldn’t have to climb?

  Should I have offered?

  “Kane Bishop, do you take Jessica Lenaghan to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to love her, to honor her, to cherish and protect her, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?”

  For the first time in my life, I hear my brother’s breath audibly catch when Jess slides a gold band onto his ring finger.

  He nods. “I do.”

  Hannah grins. “And Jessica Lenaghan, do you take Kane Bishop to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love him, honor him, cherish and protect him, forsaking all others, and holding only unto him forevermore?”

  Jess’ chest heaves with silent tears when Kane slides a gold band onto her finger. He stares into her eyes and nods as though to encourage her along.

  He’s the strongest guy I know, at least seventy percent machine parts, and what isn’t metal is protected by bulletproof armor and a whole lot of bad attitude. But he’s vulnerable in the seconds it takes her to find her voice. For her to swallow her tears, and to breathe through what I’m certain is a contraction that screws her face up in pain.

  But then she says it, and his world is back on kilter.

  “I do.”

  “Jessica and Kane, you exchange these rings as a symbol of your love and commitment to each other. They’re nothing more than a strap of metal, but they’re made precious by what they represent. Your wedding rings mark the beginning of your long journey together. They’re a circle, a symbol of your never-ending love, and a seal for the vows you have just taken here today. Please, could you both repeat after me?”

  It’s almost a literal pain as I drag my attention from Abigail’s beguiling eyes and bring them to Kane and Jess.

  “As a sign of my love.”

  As a pair, Kane and Jess repeat, “As a sign of my love.”

  “I have chosen you.”

  Jess’ voice cracks almost as much as Kane’s. “I have chosen you.”

  “Above all else.”

  Jess nods, and hurriedly swipes a tear from her cheek with her shoulder. “Above all else.”

  “With this ring, I thee wed.”

  Kane leans forward, stealing Jessie’s line, and presses a kiss to her lips. “With this ring, I promise to love you for the rest of my life.” His eyes flicker between each of Jess’. “And even when I’m gone, my love will remain. It’ll just be invisible.”

  “Marriages take work,” Hannah continues with pursed lips; he’s not impressed by Kane’s unscripted addition. “They take effort, they take time and devotion, and they take trust to know that deep in your hearts, you truly want what is best for each other. Marriages take dedication and openness; they require a commitment to learn and grow together, and loyalty, despite not knowing what the future brings. You have both pledged a lifetime journey today, but you begin it with the deepest of love. Remember how you feel right now, and revisit these feelings when things get tough.”

  The couple nod, and when a fat tear slides over Jess’ cheek, Kane swipes it away with the pad of his thumb. “Are we married yet?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jess bursts out on a tearful laugh. She turns to Hannah. “Are we done?”

  He gives a solemn nod. “By the power vested in me by this great state, it is my greatest honor and delight to declare you husband and wife. You may–”

  “By-the-power-vested-in-me-by-the-internet-and-Sophia’s-amazing-skills-I-now-pronounce-you-husband-and-wife-you-may-kiss-your-bride.” Jay draws in a loud, gulping breath, then shoves Kane forward until the couple’s mouths clash, and the crowd stands for applause.

  When Kane’s left hand goes into Jess’ hair, his right, down to her hip, and he pulls her as close as their babies allow and kisses the fuck out of her, Jay turns to us with a wicked grin and presents us with two thumbs up.

  “Nailed it.”

  * * *

  “After much heated debate and an almost divorce before the wedding began, it is my pleasure to introduce to you all, the brand new Mr. and Mrs. Kane Bishop.”

  The reception room explodes with applause and, from the guys closest to Kane, laughter, as he drags Jess through the doors and basks in the fact that Jessica took his name.

  We knew all along she would, but because of his big mouth and demanding nature, she just had to push back and suggest he take her name. She’s his alpha female, and if he thinks he gets to demand a damn thing from her with no good reason other than ‘because I said so,’ then he’s in for a lifetime of ‘heated debate and almost divorce’.

  The band starts up on their little stage, and spotlights follow the couple, as Kane, who’s already tossed his coat and tie, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, pulls Jess around until they press together and slow dance to How Long Will I Love You?

  Jess looks like she can barely breathe beneath the tight lace of her dress, and they have to work extra hard on their Tetris game, angling her belly a little to the left so they can hug each other while Kane buries his nose against her neck and whispers filthy shit in her ear.

  How do I know he’s being filthy? Because she turns tomato red when he palms her ass and squeezes.

  The reception is being held in a large ballroom at a historic hotel in town. The room is full to capacity, and round tables overflow with formally dressed people. The tablecloths are crisp white, but the napkins are gunmetal silver, so it feels like I’m in a Bond movie.

  There’s no long bridal table at the front of the room, putting Jess and Kane on display, but circle tables throughout. According to the program outside, I’m sitting at table one with Jay and Soph, Riley and Andi, Eric and his girl Katrina, Laine and Angelo, and Kane and Jess — when they finish dancing. But as I walk across the ballroom and approach my seat, I grin, because the chair beside mine is filled with one itty-bitty redhead in a beautiful dress.

  With a beer in my left hand and a glass of white wine in my right, I approach my friends and set my drinks down.

  Abigail’s shoulders lift the very moment my arm brushes hers, but she doesn’t look. Heat rushes beneath her skin, so the tops of her shoulders redden and illuminate the million freckles that cover her body, but still, she doesn’t look.

  It’s a good thing she’s so small, because the room is packed tight, and our tablemates aren’t small.

  When I slide into my chair, and have to squeeze between Jay and Abigail, I end up almost half on her chair. But still, she doesn’t look.

  I lean forward until my lips almost touch her ear. “Fancy seeing you here, Miss Priss.”

  I swear, I can see her
brain counting through her panic as she ever so slowly brings her gaze around to me. Her eyes start on my hands, then move along my arms, because I tossed my jacket a while ago and rolled up my sleeves. My forearm game is strong today. When she looks over my chest, she pauses on the two buttons I long ago freed, and the silver chain hanging beneath my white shirt.

  Abigail’s captivating eyes finally come to mine, and when I grin, she squeezes them shut.

  “Aw, coconuts!”

  I lift a brow and chuckle. “Come again?”

  “I was hoping it would be someone else.”

  “Someone else? Who were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know!” She opens her eyes again. “Someone. Anyone! We made up, we’re on good terms, so I figured life would go on, and I could know that we made peace. But now you’re here, and you called me Priss again, which means we’re going to fight. Then tonight will be another where I can’t sleep, so tomorrow, I’ll have to come find you and say sorry again, and then our merry-go-round will start all over again.”

  “So maybe you shouldn’t be mean to me?” I slide the glass of wine a few inches to my right until the base taps her delicate hand. “I got you this from the bar.”

  Her gaze snaps down to the icy cold drink. “For me? But– you– but…” She swallows. “For me?”

  I wink. “For you, Priss. All yours.”

  “But… why?” She’s not smiling. If anything, she looks terrified. “What did you do to it?”

  I frown. “Nothing. I saw your name beside mine on the program, then I saw you when I walked in, because nobody misses that hair. I went to the bar to get a beer, so why the fuck shouldn’t I get you a drink while I’m there?”

  “Because… because! Because I’m not your responsibility.”

  Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself.

  “It’s not a big deal, Priss. I was there, I was already talking to the dude, I told him to pour a glass of white. If you don’t like it, don’t drink it. I’m sure one of the other girls will drink it.”

 

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