Used by Marlee Wray

Chapter 19

Trick

‘Vil vetoes the idea of a double wedding, but says they’ll have a chapel ceremony on their one-year anniversary. That definitely seems more ‘Vil and Rachel’s speed, since our wedding’s already off the hook with something like five hundred guests. He says Zoe and I should help Rachel find the perfect place, which makes me roll my eyes.

“I should find the venue? I already offered to share St. Mary’s with you.”

“Thought you wanted to be a part-time wedding planner since you’ve gotta okay every fucking thing your bride picks out.”

“If I don’t die young, I’ll be looking at these pictures for the next seventy-five years. They’re gonna look good. Only two weeks to plan. Laurelyn wasn’t up to putting this thing together alone.”

“Who would be? Two photographers? And some celebrity stylist team from California who’s charging what? Ten grand for the day? This thing is a circus even by Trick standards.”

“It’s fine. Gotta put on a good show. Relatives coming from Ireland for this. I want them to have stories about the filthy rich American wedding they went to.”

Anvil sinks the eight ball, and I toss a hundred-dollar bill on the table.

“And I’m not having two photographers all day. Kleinman’s a famous portrait photographer from New York, and she’s only shooting ten people. Be glad you made the cut. She can give you some tips on how to look decent for the chapel pictures when you remarry Rachel. All your pictures from the last time look like mugshots.”

Anvil’s gaze cuts to me.

“I was at your house. Have you asked yourself why Rachel didn’t hang up your wedding picture?”

Anvil flips me off, but I can see the gears grinding in his head.

C comes into the game room. “Why is Zoe sending me text messages with an updated timeline where we’re already late?”

There wasn’t room for the stylist’s team at Laurel’s parents’ house, so the stylists are at Anvil’s with the female part of the bridal party. I put Zoe in charge there.

“Show me,” I say, walking over to look at C’s phone.

He holds it up, and I shake my head at the adjusted itinerary. “Nah. I’ll text in a minute. Let’s play one more, ‘Vil. Double or nothing.”

Anvil racks the balls.

C’s narrowed eyes take in the room and come to rest on me. I’ve been out for a run and showered, but since then I’ve been playing pool.

I’m keyed up and trying not to show it. Been waking with nightmares on the run-up to today. It started the first night she wasn’t in my bed anymore. Together but not together… that’s a recurring theme with us and the source of my mind’s unrest. I keep dreaming something goes wrong and she walks away again before we get married.

I’ve been running every day and running wild every night to keep my mind occupied, trying to convince it that the wedding’s going to come off without a hitch and then I’ll finally have what I want. Right now though, I can’t imagine getting to the church early enough to have to talk to people with my game face on. If I weren’t playing pool, I’d be pacing and watching the seconds tick by.

“Gonna be a long day. Let’s have one drink. Take the edge off,” C says. He knows me and sees what no one else would. Except maybe her.

‘Vil glances at C and then takes a step back from the table and sets his cue stick against the wall.

C mixes, making mine a double. “Here’s to your marrying the best-looking card shark on the planet. Slainte.”

We clink glasses, and I smile and then toss the drink back. Afterward, I eye the bottle of Jack, knowing I could use another double to drown out the noise in my head, but I turn my back on it.

“Show me the schedule,” Anvil says.

C holds up his phone.

‘Vil looks at it, then at the clock and scowls. “Fuck’s sake. We gotta move.” His eyes cut to me accusingly.

“Plenty of time.”

“That’s what you always say and then you’re late.” Anvil shakes his head and walks out, calling over his shoulder, “You best get your suit on and get over there, so she doesn’t have extra time to come to her senses.”

I smirk, but inside, my muscles knot. “What do you say, C? One game?”

“Sure.”

I grab a cue stick, relieved to burn through a few more minutes.

* * *

Laurel

The week is unbelievable. My heart nearly stops a dozen times over the increasingly elaborate plans and their exorbitant price tags. Distant relatives on both sides are flown in on chartered planes. A week of festivities commences to keep everyone entertained. And this morning, a chaotic parade of people turns me into Cinderella and photographs me accordingly. I feel pretty shell-shocked and am thankful for Zoe, Rachel, and Kathleen who become an army of wit and calm amidst a sea of high-strung people swirling around me.

Monet and Trick’s younger sister, Ash, are giddy with excitement, and their enthusiasm is infectious, which sends the flower girl and her friends into a frenzy of giggles and races to see who can skip the fastest. Kathleen, God bless her, wrangles the girls who are not in the bridal party and turns them over to an usher to return to their parents.

My phone is weirdly silent. All today’s details are routed through Zoe, so I don’t have to deal with them. Trick does send me a wedding meme at three a.m., making me wonder why he’s still up. This morning, I send him an engagement ring emoji, and he sends back a beating heart one. Otherwise, we haven’t communicated. I picture him joking and having coffee at C’s house and wish I was there with him.

“All right,” Zoe says, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “It’s time for the bride to have a few minutes alone. Everyone out now, and line up in order. Let’s have one last look.”

“What are these colors again? My aunt wants to know,” Monet calls out.

“Mediterranean blue and sea glass green. And here we go out into the hall,” Zoe says with a soothing singsong voice she must use backstage right before a show starts. She swishes everyone out, and I check my phone once more. Nothing from him. My fingers start to type him a message, but then stop. I’ll see him in a few minutes.

“Okay,” I whisper to myself. Taking slow deep breaths, I fight for calm. Then I hear my dad’s voice through the heavy door, knowing I shouldn’t. My father has been great for the past week, an absolute rock every night as parties rage out of control, but I know Trick worries him.

Among throngs of people, Trick has shown himself to be a force of nature. He makes everyone from babies to grandmothers swoon. He tells wild stories and stays until the last toast of the night is over. Raucous laughter keeps the neighbors up until they come out to join the parties. One night, at two a.m., he buys a fishing boat and what he calls a lakeside cottage to give my parents as a gift for hosting so many people. The pictures of the enormous lake house make my breath catch. I tell him the gesture is too big, that they’ll be embarrassed by it, but he brushes off those concerns. They’ll see it’s practical, he says, for having family come to stay. He makes me see a life of waterskiing and barbecues because persuasion is one of his gifts. I do wonder though whether it’s in him to really settle down.

There is dancing in the Coynston streets as block parties erupt because he encourages everyone in the city to celebrate and infuses cash into local business to hold after-hours parties. He is never drunk. Nor is he sober. But he is unequivocally the prince of the city and, at some moments, it feels like the whole world has noticed as billionaires and celebrities tweet well wishes and some even arrive. I know him well enough to understand that something is driving him, and it’s more than just wanting to leave bachelorhood with a bang. But I also trust that when it counts, he’ll come back down to Earth, at least for a day.

I open the door and find the women are still milling about when some should be preparing to walk. Raising my brows at Rachel, I mouth, “What’s happening?”

“Everything’s fine,” Zoe says in a gentle tone. “Nothing begins without you and Trick.”

“Is he not in the church?” I ask, startled. Glancing at my dad’s grim expression, I have to concentrate on not frowning myself.

“The guys are on their way. All fine.” Zoe’s nod is emphatic.

Monet bites her thumbnail, looking pensive. Apparently word has spread that the groom has not shown up. A little flush of embarrassment hits me, making me doubt him for a second. But then I think about the way he was in high school, always strolling through classroom doors with the second bell ringing, always driving up a minute or two before a track meet started. The one time he came early to a debate, it was to lure me into a secluded spot to make out with him.

My father walks over, leans close, and asks me the same question he’s asked a few times since I told him about the wedding. “Are you sure?”

My throaty laughter makes heads turn my way. “I guess we’ll see.”

Zoe’s brows shoot up, and she bends over her phone and sends a text. Her phone buzzes back, and she glances at it. “And they’re here. They just pulled in.” Zoe moves behind me and straightens out my train. “We’re ready. I’m taking everyone else to line up near the doors.” She turns and looks at me, stunning in her shimmery green dress. “You look incredible, Laurelyn.”

“Good,” I whisper. “Considering the fortune he spent on Operation Cinderella, I hope at least today of all days I’m as beautiful as he is when he rolls out of bed.”

The corners of Zoe’s mouth curve up. “You are. Definitely. And what’s more, you’re not crazy and out of control, so you bring that to the marriage.”

Laughing softly, I squeeze her arm. “Thank you for everything this week, especially this morning.”

“Glad to.” She takes everyone away, except my dad.

“You’re not afraid, are you? Of how he’d react if you called things off? Because—”

I rest a hand on my father’s arm. “No, Dad. I promise.” Drawing a breath and exhaling, I glance down the hall as I hear music start. “Scott doesn’t have the patience to stand around waiting for something to start. He’s always been that way.”

“So you’re supposed to wait for him to show up? Today, of all days? It looks bad. People will think he doesn’t care enough to be on time.”

I smile. “People are allowed to misjudge him. Most do.”

My dad shrugs, his mouth still a tight line. “I love you, so I worry about you.”

I nod and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you for always being such a great dad.”

We walk to the back of the church, standing just out of sight. Then on cue, we step into view. Monet and the flower girl finish their walk. I spot Connor at the front of the church, then Scott on the other side of him.

Scott’s eyes are already on me, and they don’t deviate. From behind the veil, I smile at him and at the rows of people I pass. The entire church is packed, with people standing along either side. It’s incredibly crowded… like it’s Christmas or Easter.

When I reach the front, he steps toward me. I don’t hear anything that’s being said because nerves have overtaken me. I try to remember the breathing exercises we did before a debate, but I can’t for the life of me think of even one. His hand catches mine and holds it.

My veil’s lifted, and I look at him. He’s as gorgeous as ever, and when he smiles and winks at me, I remember how to breathe.

The ceremony begins in a blink. And a blur.

* * *

Trick

Laurelyn is a fairytale fantasy brought to life. She’s so beautiful she doesn’t even look real. I can see she’s nervous, so I take her hand and don’t let it go. Most of the ceremony, I’ve got my head slightly turned so I don’t have to stop looking at her.

Nothing goes wrong. The vows. The rings. The priest’s pronouncement. It all goes off perfectly. Four days of nightmares for nothing.

There’s some posing for pictures and then we go into the sanctuary with just the priest to sign the marriage certificate. I lay down my signature, only half listening to him make small talk with us.

“Sign here, Laurel,” I say, my eye still on the prize.

The pen slides over the paper, putting her signature next to mine.

Now she’s mine legally, and for the rest of my life. My hands finally get a tight grip on a certain happiness that’s been coming and going since the night of the poker game in Boston.

The priest takes the document and moves away.

It’s just us, staring at each other, her eyes like stained glass.

“So this happened,” she whispers in a teasing tone, rubbing her finger over the gold wedding band on my finger.

Her words hit me just right, and I smile. “Hard to believe. Only took us nine years.”

She chuckles. After a beat, she continues in the same tone. “What do you think? Can you stand one more party? Or should we call it a day and fly to the beach right now?”

“Whatever you want.” A part of me is dead serious.

“There was a moment when people wondered if you were ready to call it a day before the ceremony started.”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I nod. I’ll make that up to her.

“You okay?” she asks, serious now.

“I’m better than okay. I missed you the past few nights, but it’s all good now. Since I never have to miss you again.”

She squeezes my hand.

“What about you, Laurelyn? You all right? You didn’t actually doubt I’d show up, did you?”

“No, I knew you’d be here. Eventually. On Trick time.”

“You’re not gonna begrudge me nine minutes, are you? I waited a decade for you.” The corners of my mouth flirt with a smile. “What’s nine minutes when I just promised you the rest of my life?”

“I’m not mad. But my dad might be. And for a long time.”

I shake my head. “I’ve got that covered.”

“You do, huh?”

“Sure. They’re called grandkids. He’s gonna get the cutest little heartbreakers ever. There is zero chance he’s gonna hold up against them.”

Her smile at that is the real heartbreaker.

“Hey. I’ll take a kiss. A real one.”

“You sure you want to mess up the thousand-dollar lipstick application before all the thousand-dollar-per-minute photographers are finished with me?”

“Pictures are over. I shared you all week. I’m done with that. You’re mine, and I want you to myself. Don’t forget I’ve got the law on my side now. If you ever try to leave, I’ll just have you arrested and brought back to me.”

She laughs. “The law on your side. That’s new.”

“Yeah.”

Looking up at me through her lashes, she whispers, “You really think the law is going to take your side over mine on anything? Doubt it.”

I sigh and shrug. “Maybe not. To hell with them, then. The C Crue castle has those turrets. As a medieval warlord, I guess when I go out I’ll lock you in a tower so I don’t misplace you.”

She tosses her head back and laughs that deep throaty laugh that calls my cock to attention.

“Hey?”

When she finally stops laughing she says, “Yes?”

Sliding an arm around her waist, I pull her against me and whisper in her ear, “If I don’t get my kiss soon, a certain girl’s going to be in trouble tonight.” My hand slides down over beaded lace to grip her ass.

Laurel sucks in a surprised breath. When she speaks her voice is a hiss. “No messing around in church, Trick.”

She hands me the leverage, so I use it. “Give me my kiss, and I’ll let you go.”

Looking around to be sure no one’s watching, she licks her lips, her cheeks flushing. I flash her a smile. I know I can’t have sex with her in church, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.

Then my beautiful new wife gives me a kiss, and I get the hit of pure pleasure that always comes with it.

The End