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“Nailed it.”

* * *

“After much heateddebate 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 suggesthetakehername. 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 toHow 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.”


Tags: Emilia Finn Checkmate Dark