She held my gaze half a beat before she pulled her hand from mine and repeated, “I told you, I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay,” I replied.
“Oh ladies,” the photographer cooed. “Can we do that again? That was so beautiful. But this time without the bride frowning.”
Blake snatched up my hand. We stayed close. We gazed into each other’s eyes. Hers were not smiling, but her mouth was. Mine were all the same.
And the photographer snapped away.
I’d done it the day before.
But still, when I walked down the aisle, holding my extravagant bouquet that not only dangled down my front with long ribbons that, if I wasn’t careful to make sure they fluttered off beside me, they might trip me, but also, the flowers draped over my arm (it was huge, and Blake’s was three times the size of mine), I saw Rix sitting there.
But he’d never seen the gown.
In fact, after they dropped me off at the hotel where I was to have hair and makeup done with Blake and the rest of the bridal party at two o’clock, he hadn’t seen me.
My hair pulled back soft at the nape, trailing tendrils around my face, with a hair piece woven into it at the chignon that was rife with star-like flowers, leaves and pearls that laced into my hair up the back of my head and into the side.
My makeup was subtle and dewy, almost innocent, not a contour in sight (but of course, this was an event, so I had fake eyelashes).
Even I had to say, I looked pretty danged good.
Chloe would approve.
I approved.
And when Rix saw me, his back going straight and his eyes devouring me, he approved.
I smiled at him.
His return grin lit my world so bright, I almost lost track of the trailing ribbon, and I didn’t even notice Jamie and Dru sitting with him.
Me and my high heels came to stand in position at the front.
The music changed.
And I watched Dad, very debonair in a tux with a long, blush tie that matched my gown, also looking proud, as he escorted Blake down the aisle.
I didn’t agree with my sister’s decision.
But she looked beautiful.
Watching her with Dad, I wished I’d told her that and decided I’d find some time that evening to rectify that mistake.
The giving away caused emotion I wasn’t expecting to feel, especially after Dad lifted Blake’s veil over her head and whispered something in her ear.
And her beautiful face grew startled, then soft.
For the life of me, I would never have expected to gain so much from that trip home, one I didn’t want to make at first, one I knew I’d be forever grateful I’d made for so many reasons, it was impossible to fit them all in my head at once.
But that look on her face, it made me think perhaps one day, I’d have even more bounty.
As practiced, we went through the rigmarole of the ceremony commencing, Blake handing me her bouquet, turning to Chad, and taking his hands.
But when the reverend was dispensing with the preliminaries, in my wildest imaginings I would never have guessed what would happen next.
Not even close.
(Nowhere near.)
Precisely, when he asked if anyone objected to the marriage, that they speak now or forever hold their peace.
And Blake said, “Actually…”
My spine locked.
Blake held on to Chad, but twisted toward Brea at the end of the bridal line.
And then she called loudly, “Would you prefer to be standing here, Brea? Since you were having sex with Chad three days ago.”
My gaze flew to Rix.
Creases had formed at the sides of his eyes, his broad shoulders were doing slight heaves, and he was biting his lip.
A hum rose up, and in this day and age, it was no surprise, so did a number of cell phones.
“Oh my God,” Chelsea, clearly not having been clued in by my sister that this was going to happen, muttered with bitchy glee.
“Right.” Blake was now fully turned toward her bridal party.
She had also definitely heard Chelsea.
Because she said, “Then there was you, Chels, who banged his brains out when we were in Aruba.” She looked out to the audience and called, “Sorry, Conner. But she did. I know. I’ve seen their sex tape. When he was pouring his heart out to me, begging me not to dump him, Chad shared he’s into that kind of thing. It’s also uploaded. Chad has a website for his buds. You have to have a password, though. But maybe he can be persuaded.”
I looked to the pews and saw a tall, handsome guy, perhaps one who played rugby, though whatever he did, it left him with a very thick neck, a row back from Rix. He was in a half squat, looking like he was preparing to leap over the pews.
My guess?
Chelsea’s beau.
Conner.
“Blake, if you—” the reverend started.