Chapter 13
The ceremony transitioned into the reception.
Massive speakers and instruments burst with sound as they were tested.
Servers and staff moved across a tent double the size of the one used for the vows, and each table displayed flowers identical to her bouquet—delicate peonies, hard to find this time of year, especially in Pleasant View. Somehow, Wade made it happen.
Claire stood beside him under a canopy of twinkling lights, the crisp autumn air carrying the faint scent of fallen leaves.
Two men worked to draw down the tent’s sides, though most remained open, allowing her and the guests to take in the sprawling property.
Wade’s three-story childhood home loomed beyond the deciduous trees.
The leaves had already transformed into vibrant yellows and red, some fallen in contrast to the aspens, which although transformed remained intact.
Amid the flurry, she focused on the steady warmth at her lower back where his hand rested. Toby then gave instructions. At least Wade was listening, fake or not. She pushed the thought aside. This was her only wedding, and she’d make the best of it.
Her pulse hadn’t quite settled from that kiss after the ceremony.
Even now, as they paused for group photos, a current intruded, leaving Wade’s every touch and every glance electric.
His family surrounded them, and she felt connected to them as they laughed, teased, and shared memories.
It was surreal—being part of this big loving group, even if it was just for show.
“Wade’ll snap, and this marriage will go up in flames before it begins.” His sister Julia wagged a hand between Wade and Claire.
“Unlike some people, I keep my promise.” Wade snaked an arm around Claire. “You’ll see.”
Okay, so not everyone in his family was cheerful, but most of them were. And even more impressive, all his siblings had returned home on such short notice for their fake wedding.
Irina, standing beside Claire among the many people lined up for the photo, nudged Claire’s left hand, her assurance a balm.
The photographer staged pictures of Claire and Wade and her dad, then with Bella in Claire’s arms, then Wade’s.
Bella, bright-eyed and smiling, looked as happy as she’d been around Albert.
Had she missed being around people, around kids?
She sure was basking in the attention. Bella’s world had changed so suddenly, and somehow, today felt like a chance to give her back some of what she’d lost.
Then came the moment for just Claire and Wade. The photographer called it out, and Wade’s siblings dashed over, all eager hands and loud voices as they reached for Bella.
“I’m not taking any chances with you guys,” Wade growled protectively as he glanced down at Bella. He then eyed his sisters and brothers as if deciding whom to trust. “No tossing her around or—”
“Relax, Wade.” Iris, his youngest sister, elbowed her way forward with a grin. “I haven’t had a chance to hold her yet.” She snuggled Bella close, lingering long enough for Wade to kiss Bella’s head before fully handing her over.
“Finally, it’s just you and Aunt Iris.” Iris scooped Bella up, and the baby flashed a toothless grin. Claire wasn’t sure when her first teeth would finally come in.
She had no idea how to navigate her marriage with Wade, but she had the support of his family, a bustling crew ready to envelop Bella with love.
They weren’t always nearby, as only his parents and oldest brother lived full time in Pleasant View—that was if Eric and Joy weren’t traveling to some exotic place.
Still, Bella would never be alone, no matter what happened.
“Claire?” Toby snapped his fingers. “Can you focus on Wade now, please? Wade, bring your bride to your side.”
Wade eased her closer, his touch sending a familiar thrill up her spine.
“Excellent.” Toby circled them, clicking pictures from all angles.
“Now, let’s have you two face each other.
Perfect.” He crouched for a shot. They complied with each pose, each more intimate than the last. “This time, let’s get your arms around each other’s waists—yes, that’s it.
Now, Claire, arms around his neck, bouquet still in hand. Wade, bring her in for a kiss.”
Another kiss? Her breath stuttered, and her fingers fumbled the bouquet. It dropped, and Wade drew her in, his hold supportive, his lips gentle.
The fake kisses started to stack up, one after another, so many to assure the world they were madly in love.
During dinner, every time they’d start to relax, one of his siblings clinked a glass and prompted yet another kiss. His family’s teasing laughter rang through the tent as they reveled in making him blush.
But for her, those kisses were starting to blur. At each opportunity to kiss, she leaned in more eagerly, her heart fluttering with a giddiness she hadn’t anticipated.
Maybe he felt the same. His hands lingered on her waist, his lips softer with every kiss. Each touch enticed her to believe, if only for a moment, that this was more than a temporary arrangement.
“They’re ready for the first dance.” Wade scooted out of his chair, laid his jacket across its back, and held out his hand to help her up.
She followed him to the dance floor, everyone’s focus on them.
How did he deal with attention like this everywhere he went?
She clung to his hand to keep from tripping.
At least she could count on him to lead her.
She glided into the first steps, grateful to let him hold her close.
“I hadn’t expected a live band.” The singer’s voice was stunning—as confident and as crisp as the artist herself.
Claire squinted to get a better look at the woman, then back at Wade, catching his mischievous smirk.
“Why does she look and sound like Shania Twain?” She raised her voice over the music so he could hear her.
“Because it is her.”
She froze in his arms. Her gaze darted back to the stage. The beautiful woman exuding effortless poise smiled and waved in their direction. Claire’s lips parted like the Red Sea.
“I thought you wanted to dance to ‘From This Moment.’” Laughter carried in Wade’s voice as his hands slid around her waist to her back.
His movements were casual, as if arranging for one of the most iconic performers in the world was just another ordinary day for him.
It probably was. After all, he wasn’t just an actor—he was an entertainment powerhouse.
“How did you—?”
“I make a habit of collecting friends and favors in the industry.” He shrugged, his tone light.
Claire slapped at his shoulder. “Seriously, Wade, how did you secure Shania Twain and on short notice?”
“She was excited to stay at the Stone cabin in Aspen.”
He must be paying a lot of money to have such a music icon here.
And he’d done it for her, for this moment. Wonderment swept her up. Words failed her, leaving her gawking.
She tried to sway to the music, the canvas tent tapping against the temporary floor. It was surprisingly sturdy, an impressive setup warmed by the heaters hanging like rustic lanterns between the strings of lights. The entire scene felt like a dream stolen from a storybook.
“Is this what you imagined your wedding to be?” Wade’s voice was low, and his breath teased her neck as they moved together.
“More than I ever imagined…”
Shania Twain’s voice carried seamlessly into another song, the second melody flowing like it was meant to be.
“It feels as though we’re having two first dances.” Claire rested her cheek against his chest. “I still can’t believe you brought one of my favorite singers here.”
Wade smiled, his hand gentle against her back. “You’ll get to meet her before we leave, if you want to.”
What was she supposed to say to Shania Twain?
Whenever she’d thought about her wedding over the years, she’d never dared to imagine Wade by her side. He’d always felt so far out of reach. In those daydreams, she hadn’t been able to picture who she’d share this dance with.
“We might have to say our goodbyes as soon as the toasts are over,” he said.
“Why so soon?”
“We’re heading out for our honeymoon tonight.”
She nearly stumbled. “Not tomorrow?”
“If we want to have a full two days there, better to head out tonight.”
No wonder he’d asked her to have her luggage ready to stay at The Peak, his childhood home, tonight.
“The pilot has the plane ready. We’re set to leave at eight thirty.”
“Oh.” She’d be spending a night somewhere with just him? Her body temperature kicked up. “My luggage…”
“Steve will see to it that it makes it in the limo.” He spoke as if limo drivers and pilots were all normal and familiar terms for her.
“Your mom… she’s still okay taking care of a baby for a couple of days?”
“Bella’s staying with Eric’s family.” Wade nodded toward his brother and his wife, who were doting over Bella as she was passed between his siblings, nieces, and nephews. “Is it okay with you?”
At her nod, he pulled her closer. Without his suit jacket, his warmth radiated through his shirt, his chest solid beneath her fingertips. His scent wrapped around her, and her head spun as she inhaled the spicy tang. She sighed, her heart aching over the way he held her, the look in his eyes…
“I think we convinced everyone about us.” Somehow, her voice came out strong. Best she remind herself they were still faking it.
“It’s easy to convince everyone when it’s you.” His gaze lingered, and her toes curled inside her shoes.
“If this is the only wedding we’ll ever have”—his voice dipped—“might as well make the most of it.”
“Yeah.” His words settled in her chest, the unspoken promise comforting. Maybe they could find something real within all this pretense.
“This feels familiar.” His voice rumbled close to her ear. “The dance.”