With a smile, he retreats without breaking eye contact and bites the pad of his thumb that was just rubbing me.
“I can’t wait.” He turns and goes back to the door. “I’ll send your sisters in to help you finish getting dressed.”
Then he’s gone and has me wondering who the fuck am I about to marry.
Caerwyn
The moment I open the door, the entire room shifts in my direction. Hundreds of pairs of eyes are on me as I walk back to my position. I knew she was nervous and every minute past the time she was supposed to appear different people would shoot me apologetic looks if our eyes happened to connect. Eventually, I got tired of waiting and damn the pre-wedding rules, I was going to get my bride. Dallas sits in the front row with my parents and Oran and Berke are quietly conversing when I reach them.
Oran raises an eyebrow at me, silently asking if all is good. I give him a slight nod before I approach a visibly pregnant Karessa.
“She still needs help getting into her dress,” I whisper into her ear to keep the nosy people out of our business.
“On it,” she whispers back then speed walks down the aisle with Esme in tow.
I’d be embarrassed if I cared about how this all looks but I know Imala and I are solid. Mireya León, the head of Prizm - the island’s media giant, eyes glow with amusement while she awaits a mishap. She’d love to
get a taste of embarrassment for one of the founding families. Our dads denied her bid to become one of the most prominent families on the island and she’s had a vendetta ever since. They’re reasoning was simple, her family had no parts in settling the island, therefore she could not have a founder’s title.
“Where did they go?” Oran’s phone buzzes and he looks to me for permission. He checks it once I nod. “Never mind. Trophy just texted to ask if Berke and I could come back out to redo the entry.”
“Okay,” I agree because I don’t care if we must do it again as long as Imala brings her sexy ass out this time.
Whispers and hushed conversations pick up once they see Oran and Berke leave the room. I don’t offer any announcements or explanations. I don’t feel like it. The music starts once more, and I have to listen to the same damn song as the people I’ve already seen make their way back up the aisle. The crowd seems to collectively hold their breath once we get to the part where we paused before. This time, instead of the music dying the doors open to reveal Dondi ushering Imala inside. People stand and whip out phones and cameras as she approaches me. If I thought seeing her in a thin camisole and underwear was a thrill, then the wedding dress is an adventure. She looks every bit of the woodland goddess I’d imagined she’d be. Plus, the cleavage that dress is giving her is everything I asked her to have in a dress. I am standing in a place of worship having the dirty thought I knew I’d have. The desire I ignited deep inside of her still glows in her eyes as she takes my hand.
Good. My turn to build anticipation.
We get through our vows without incident and when the time comes to kiss her, I give her the briefest of pecks. The pout she tries to hide is cute. She shouldn't have made me wait. Now, she must wait to get any real kisses from me.
The pictures were brutal. I like to smile but damn that was torture. Berke’s asshole nature started to resurface but we were thankful when he threatened to stick the camera up the photographer's ass if he made us pose for another damn picture. The LeClaire sisters just laughed and blamed it on the grumpy Hales but we were all happy that was over.
Imala didn’t care about decoration details. I’m glad she’d given free rein to Karessa because I was able to pick the items and have a say. Karessa and I proved we were a dream team for my birthday party, and we did it again for the wedding.
My wife gasps when she finds the indoor woodland forest theme we set up for her. We’d pulled the scenery from her favorite book turned movie. I had to watch that scene about five times then eventually told Karessa which part of the movie to watch to bring my vision alive.
In the corner of my eye, I see my parents hug Berke and by the time Imala and I take the floor for our first dance, they are comfortably having a conversation. That’s never happened.
“Thank you again. I love what you’ve done,” I confess.
Her big, almost black eyes pop with surprise. “And what was that?”
“Getting my brother to cooperate. It means so much to me to have him here and getting along with others.”
“I’d do it again if I had to,” she confesses and damn I want to drag her out of here. “This reception is something from my dreams. Thank you.”
“I hope you like the wedding song I picked. I thought it’d be nice to have a little fun.”
“If it’s YMCA, you’ll be grounded, too.”
We laugh at the thought as Adore You by Harry Styles starts. I wanted a song that expressed deep affection. I didn’t want to scare her with something extra lovey. Now wasn’t the time even with me knowing I’m falling for her more every damn day.
Her smile is frame worthy as she mouths. “Good choice.”
Imala has no idea how I feel about the words of the song. The upbeat song and the amusement she displayed while dancing with me set the tone for the rest of our reception. It was delightfully drama free but too fucking long for me. I’m ready for the real party to begin. Especially since she left with her sisters and returned in a white, lacy romper with sparkly jeweled and pearl Chuck Taylor shoes. I smile at the sight; she looks sexy, but I knew those heels wouldn’t last long.
“Could you not display your thoughts about my angel all over your face, asshole?” I didn’t see or hear Oran coming due to watching my wife work the room.
“And if you’d known you and Karessa were having a real wedding night?”