11. Penelope
Chapter 11
Penelope
Xavier kisses like it’s a conversation.
His lips coax mine into moving against them, pressing closer and then retreating, leaving me to kiss back in answer. His sharp mint scent is refreshing, a break in the intensity of the other two, even though it’s just as powerful. My head spins, and when Xavier finally draws back, I need a second to get myself together.
I blink, looking at the three of them in turn, my lips still tingling from those kisses.
And then that’s it. We’re married. Locked in with each other for a whole year.
The music starts up again, a lovely piano exit, and the four of us walk back down the aisle together. Everyone around us is standing and clapping, and I barely take any of it in.
It all feels surreal, like it could be happening in a dream.
Once we’re out of the hall, Fletcher and Delia swoop in again. The reception is at a different venue, one that’s larger and more elegant for a wedding with three powerful CEOs at the head of it.
They talk timeline and food as we head out of the church and into a long limo that’s waiting outside.
I recognize Jonas, standing by the doors to the back of the limo, and I flash him a smile.
“It’s good to see you, Penelope,” he says, nodding.
“Thanks,” I reply. “You too.”
He grins and gestures for me to get in the car, and I do. The doors are closed behind us, and Jonas goes around to get in the front seat to drive.
“Congratulations on the wedding, by the way,” Jonas says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “Was it everything you wanted?”
I smile back, wringing my hands together in my lap out of sight. It’s a complicated question, considering ‘marry three Alphas for show’ was never on the list of things I wanted in my life at all. I’d always imagined if I was to get married, there would be people there for me. Friends at least, if not family, helping me get dressed and do my hair, smiling at me from the seats as I walked down the aisle toward someone who loved me enough to want to take this step with me.
None of that had happened today. But I think back to the fairy lights that were strung up and the way the three of them—my husbands now, which is going to take a lot of getting used to—kissed me.
“It was beautiful,” I finally tell Jonas. And that much, at least, is true.
The venue for the reception is one of those fancy country club type places that I’ve never had enough money to even breathe the air inside of. There’s a valet outside, but he clearly knows Jonas because he waves him around to park the limo himself.
The building is beautiful, built on modern lines but with an eye for aesthetics. It’s all cream colored stone and dark wood, and I’m sure that renting this place for however long our reception is going to be cost more than I’ve made in the last year.
“All right,” Dominic says as Jonas pulls the car to a smooth stop. “This is where we have to sell it. There will be cameras and people with a million questions in there. Make it convincing.”
“What… does that mean, exactly?” I ask him, fidgeting nervously in my seat.
He pins me with a look, but it’s not unkind. “Smile for the cameras and the crowd, little bird,” he says. “If anyone asks how you feel, tell them it’s the best day of your life or something like that. Or play up being flustered and too excited to know how to feel, that will work too.”
I nod, turning that over in my head. I can land somewhere in the middle of that, I’m sure.
“I’m tired of smiling,” Tristan mutters. “Smiling too long makes my face hurt.” From anyone else, it might have sounded whiny, but Tristan just sounds gruff and guarded, the way he always does.
His words draw my eyes to his face, handsome and unreadable, and the scar there. He doesn’t cover it, doesn’t make any move to hide it from people’s prying eyes, but he also doesn’t talk about it either.
He doesn’t talk about much at all , I guess, and he doesn’t really have a vibe that makes you feel like it’s okay to come up and ask him questions anyway.
Still, I have to wonder how he got that scar. It had to have been something serious, for it to be so pronounced the way it is.
“Let’s do this,” Xavier says, nudging me with his arm and startling me out of my thoughts. He grins, and I find a smile for him, even though I’m sure it shakes with nerves.
Jonas helps me out of the car and I fix my dress, fluffing up the parts that were crushed by the car ride.
It’s quiet outside the club as we walk up to the front doors, and I’m grateful for that at least. I had visions of reporters and photographers standing outside, all clamoring for a quote and a picture to go with whatever story they were going to write about the three CEOs of Vantage and their new bride.
Some of the relief fades when we step inside and I see a sea of people. It feels like even more of them are here than were at the wedding, and when I think about it, that’s probably the case. People who didn’t get an invitation to the wedding itself, but who managed to be important enough to come to the reception.
They don’t make any secret of their desire to talk to us either. As soon as the doors shut behind us, there is a swarm of people surrounding us. Flashes go off as people take pictures, and the men just sort of… roll with it. Dominic and Xavier smile, and Tristan keeps his expression neutrally pleasant as they glance in various directions as people snap their shots of us. I try to follow their lead, not knowing where to look or how to feel about any of it.
Dominic said we had to sell it, but I feel kind of like I’ve been thrown into the deep end without a life jacket.
Through the clamor I can make out people calling their congratulations and teasing the men about finally being off the market. A lot of them have eyes on me, and I can feel the curiosity in their stares.
To them, I’m an unknown. I’m not a CEO or some kind of fancy important person. I don’t travel in the same circles as Xavier, Dominic, and Tristan. I don’t go to fundraisers or office parties or whatever else it is these kinds of people do. They don’t know anything about me, and most of them are probably sizing me up, trying to figure out what’s so special about me.
I just keep a smile on my face, accepting each well wish with a heartfelt thank you, the way I was taught to as a kid. Manners come easily to me at least, and if a little more of my Southern accent slips out as I fall into the old lines of Southern hospitality, then so be it.
“You must be so excited,” one woman says. She grins at me, tossing deep red hair over her shoulder. “You’ve just taken three of the most eligible bachelors in the country off the table in one fell swoop.”
“Oh,” I say, trying to smile and not grimace at her phrasing. “It wasn’t about that at all.”
She waves a hand. “I’m sure it wasn’t. But still, it was masterfully done. You’re going to have plenty of people wondering exactly how you did it. And besides them being powerful and making a name of themselves in the tech sphere, they’re also… you know.” She gives a significant look to where the three of them are deep in conversation with a shorter man dressed in a suit that probably cost more than my entire apartment building.
“Sorry?” I say, looking back to her. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“They’re hot ,” she says, dropping her voice into a dramatic whisper. “Most of the men at their level are either old, addicted to something that makes them awful to deal with, or can’t manage to dress themselves without help from their much younger assistants.” She gives me another significant look, and I just smile helplessly. “Or some combination of the three.”
“Oh,” I say again. That word is getting a lot of mileage so far. “I guess I lucked out.”
“I’ll say you did,” the woman replies, smiling wistfully. “What’s your secret?”
“I… don’t think I have one?”
Luckily someone else breaks into the conversation then, rescuing me from this conversation. It’s someone else wanting to congratulate me, only they follow it up with asking if I can manage to convince my husbands to take a meeting with them.
“I’m really not the person to ask about that,” I say, trying to edge away from him.
“Nonsense!” He grins brightly. “You’re their wife. They’ll listen to you.”
If only he knew how untrue that was.
I turn my smile up a notch, trying to go for amused flattery. “That’s kind of you to say,” I tell him. “But we haven’t even been married for an hour yet. I don’t want to start asking for things too soon. And I definitely don’t want them thinking about work at our reception.”
He gives me a look that definitely says he thinks I’m naive, but whatever. If it gets me out of this conversation, I’ll take it. “The work never stops, I’m afraid,” he says. “But we’ll talk some other time maybe?”
I nod noncommittally and make an excuse that I need to greet more guests to slip away from him and go to the other side of the room.
Xavier is there, already holding a glass of champagne. He smiles when he sees me and passes me the glass, appropriating another for himself from a passing waiter’s tray.
“How are you holding up?” he asks.
“I’m all right,” I say immediately. I take a sip of the champagne, wrinkling my nose as the bubbles tickle it. “It’s just… a lot.”
He nods, draining his own glass in one smooth swallow. “You can say that again. We would have had something more private if we could have, but that would defeat the purpose of this whole thing.”
“I know,” I tell him. “I get it.”
He’s called away by another group of people wanting his attention, and I stand off to the side for a while longer, finishing my drink and gathering my strength before diving back into the fray.
Thank goodness for the staff at least. All of them seem to have worked this kind of event before, and they keep the drinks and fancy canapes moving around the room, trays constantly full of little finger foods that I can’t even identify on sight.
But they also make sure to stop and offer things to me, Xavier, Dominic, and Tristan specifically, either because they know who’s paying for this or because they understand that the bride and groom—grooms, in this case—always manage to end up starving at wedding receptions with the amount of people they have to talk to.
So at least I get to eat little garlic steak bites wrapped in puff pastry and covered in a sweet and smokey sauce as well as dates stuffed with a tangy cheese and drizzled with hot honey.
That alone carries me through most of the small talk that I barely understand, at least until I managed to slip away to the relative silence of the bathroom.
I check my hair and makeup and then take a deep breath and step back out into the fray.
Luckily, people don’t seem to notice that I’m back, and I manage to find a quiet corner of the room to stand in. Tristan seems to have had the same idea, standing there with a glass of water in his hand, staring out at the proceedings.
He doesn’t so much as glance at me as I join him, and I stand there awkwardly for a bit, before I think of something to say.
“I didn’t expect it to be like this,” I offer, smiling at him.
He just glances at me and then back to the crowd that Xavier is charming with some story or other.
“At least we can let our smiles slip for a moment while we’re over here, right?” I say, trying again.
His eyes cut to me once more, but there’s nothing there. No flash of humor or even acknowledgement of the joke.
“Does it still hurt?” I ask him. “Your scar?”
“Yes,” Tristan replies, his voice curt as he grits out that one word.
With little input from my brain, my hand reaches out, moving toward Tristan’s face as if to touch the scar there. All at once his eyes go hard and he jerks back and away from me, like he’s been burned. He turns and stalks off without another word, leaving me alone in the corner.
I stare after him, wondering if this is what the next year of our lives is going to be like. Maybe I should just stop trying. Maybe trying to convince him to talk to me is just making it worse. But the idea of being married to someone—even if it’s not real—who doesn’t even seem to want to breathe the same air as me makes me feel incredibly sad.
Before I can sink too deep into those thoughts, an arm comes around my waist, hugging me from the side. I jump in surprise, and turn my head to see a woman standing there grinning. She’s shorter than me, petite and pixie like with rich brown hair that falls around her shoulders in soft waves. She’s dressed in a beautiful green dress, and her eyes are bright as she smiles at me. She’s also flanked by two guys who almost look familiar.
“Penelope!” she says. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
“Oh, um… hi?” I say, not sure how to respond.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Bels,” one of the men says. He’s taller than the girl by a good bit, with a lean, athletic build. His sandy blond hair is tousled in a way that makes him look younger than he probably is, and his sharp blue eyes flick between me and the girl who is still standing very close.
“Oh, right,” the girl says. Her smile takes on an apologetic quality. “I do that. Got too excited there. I’m Bella. This is Carter…” She indicates the blond man. “And Riggs.”
“We’re Xavier’s siblings,” Carter says, filling in the missing piece that makes it all make sense.
“Oh,” I breathe, smiling at all of them in turn. That explains why the men looked familiar to me. They have the same facial structure as their brother, and there’s something about the eyes that reminds me of him too. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“You too!” Bella replies. “We’ve been wanting to since Xavier announced he was getting married, but he wouldn’t let us have you over for dinner.” She rolls her eyes. “He thought we’d scare you off, I guess.”
Riggs grins. He’s stockier than either Carter or Xavier, and his hair is the darkest of the lot, messy and black with Xavier’s green eyes. They sparkle with good humor and something that hints at mischief.
“To be fair, Bella,” he points out, “you probably would have.”
“Rude. I would not. I can contain myself,” Bella insists. Her brothers both give her skeptical looks. “Well, whatever. We wanted to come over here and introduce ourselves, and to tell you that we’re so excited to have you be a part of the family.”
“That’s very nice of you,” I tell her. My smile doesn’t slip, but something tightens in my chest. It’s clear that Xavier’s siblings love each other and him very much, to the point where they’re trying to make me feel welcome because I married him.
Part of it is feeling bad about the deception. Part of it is the pang that comes with knowing I don’t have anything like this myself. It’s overwhelming, being the focus of so much familial affection after going so long without it.
Still, I’m very touched by their enthusiasm and their willingness to welcome me in when they don’t really know anything about me.
“You say that now,” Carter says quietly. “But you haven’t seen Bella get going yet.”
She puts her hands on her hips and gives him a look. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“That when you get excited you vibrate at a pitch only dogs can hear?” Riggs fires back.
Bella just rolls her eyes. “Go get me some champagne if you’re just going to be pains in the ass,” she says, flicking her fingers at them.
Riggs and Carter nod to me and slip off, presumably to do what she says.
“Boys,” Bella huffs, shaking her head. “You can see why I’m so excited to have you in the family now, right? I love my brothers, but I’ve been outnumbered for too long. It’ll be so nice to have another woman in the family.”
“We’ll still be outnumbered,” I can’t help but point out.
“I know, but between the two of us, we can take them on. I just know it. You have this air about you that makes it seem like you don’t let anyone steamroll you, let alone my idiot brothers.”
I swallow hard at that because… I don’t even know if that’s true. I’ve definitely been steamrolled before. “That’s very kind of you to say,” I murmur.
Bella smiles. “Don’t worry about it. Xavier’s a big sweetheart if you let him be, and he’ll be on your side anyway. So it’ll work out.”
“You think so?”
She nods. “I know so. And if he starts to be a pain, just give me a call, and I’ll come straighten him out. Or I’ll whisk you away for a girls’ day out or something. We’ll see a movie and get our nails done and you can tell me all about whatever he did to piss you off.”
I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. It sounds wonderful, having the sort of relationship with someone where we can do things like that. It’s the kind of thing I always wanted from my mother, but she never was the type for spa days and lunch dates with her daughter.
“Thank you, Bella,” I say, meaning it completely. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Please do! Here, let me see your phone.” She takes it when I pass it over and plugs her number in. “There. Now I’m only a call or text away if you need a break from all the Alpha pheromones you’ve just married into.”
“Thank you,” I say again.
She smiles one more time and then moves on, presumably to go make sure her brothers aren’t doing something outrageous.
Dominic steps out of the crowd a moment later, coming up to me with a raised eyebrow.
“Are you hiding?” he asks.
I shake my head immediately. “No. I was talking to Xavier’s siblings for a while. And catching my breath.” I admit that last bit with a sheepish smile.
He nods, and there’s no trace of disapproval on his handsome face, so that’s something at least. Xavier shows up a moment later, smiling but looking a bit tired around the eyes.
“I hear you met the horde,” he says. “My siblings,” he clarifies when I just look confused.
“I did. They were really nice. I like your sister a lot.”
He grins. “I thought you would.”
I glance curiously at Dominic. “Did your family come?” I ask him. “Should I meet them too?”
His face hardens, his eyes going cold. “No. They wouldn’t dare show their faces here.”
It’s a cold and to the point answer, and I blink in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden shift in his mood. It’s clear that there’s a story there, and judging from the tone, it’s something that involves a lot of anger on his part.
“Excuse me,” Dominic says, and walks off again.
I wince because now that’s two of my new husbands I’ve managed to piss off and make walk away from me. I’m doing a great job of putting my foot in my mouth.
“Don’t take it personally,” Xavier says, like he can sense the direction of my thoughts. “From what I understand, Dominic’s parents were awful, and he’s never forgiven them.”
“Oh.” There’s that word again, but it feels like I don’t know what else to say. It’s better than just blinking stupidly at Xavier because I’m so surprised to hear that. I didn’t know that about Dominic, of course. I don’t know a lot about any of them, I realize. On the surface, they’re these perfect, unflappable Alpha men. They run their company and exude confidence and charm, at least in Xavier’s case. Dominic is always so strong and commanding, and it’s hard to think of him as being a child once, let alone one with parents who treated him badly. There’s more them than I realized, obviously.
They’re more complex—more human—than I first thought. Under the veneer of being powerful, untouchable billionaires, they’re maybe just… normal people. With hard pasts and struggles like anyone else.
“Bella didn’t talk your ear off, did she?” Xavier asks.
I shake my head. “No, she was lovely. It was really nice to meet her, and I want to get to know her better if I can.”
He smiles. “I’m sure she’d love it. But what about you?”
“What about me what?”
“I’m guessing since we didn’t get introduced to anyone, your family isn’t here? Is it just that you want to keep it from them, the whole arrangement, or…” He trails off, looking at me curiously.
I bite my lip, trying to figure out how much to say. Xavier is the one who’s the easiest to talk to, the one who doesn’t make me worried I’m going to put my foot in my mouth and fuck everything up, but I still don’t really know him. At the same time though, I’ve met his siblings and learned something new about him in the process, so maybe a little give and take is only fair here.
“It’s… even if I wanted them to be here, they wouldn’t have been,” I explain. “My dad has never been in my life. I don’t know where he lives or where I would have sent an invitation.”
“Ah. And your mother?”
That’s the part that hurts the most. With my dad, whoever he is, I never knew him. The rejection came before I was old enough to process it or really get what it meant. He’s an abstract figure in my life at this point, only really notable for his absence. My mother is a different story.
Because I wanted her to love me. As a kid I’d watch movies and TV shows about single mothers and their daughter and how being each other’s only family made their bond stronger. And I waited and waited to reach that point with my own mom, telling myself that once I got older and we had more in common it would happen. But it never did.
“We’re just not very close,” I tell Xavier. It’s easier to gloss over the details of the past, especially on a day like today. “I could have invited her, I guess, but I don’t think she would have come.”
Xavier’s smile twists, but it’s more sympathy than pity on his handsome face. I’ll take that. He opens his mouth to say something, but he’s cut off by the sound of someone clinking silverware against glass.
“Kiss!” someone shouts in the crowd of guests.
The chant grows, people picking it up and spreading it until nearly everyone in the room is calling, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
My face flushes immediately, but when I look to Xavier, he’s grinning.
“Guess we’d better give the people what they want,” he whispers, leaning down.
I swallow past the pounding of my heart, letting myself be swept up in the scent of him. It’s almost soothing, the way it wraps around me, and Xavier’s arms follow suit. He slings an arm around my waist and pulls me in closer, smiling warmly.
I go with it, letting him take the lead, putting my arms around his neck. I’m supposed to be the swooning bride here, and I play the role well enough, I think, laughing when he kisses me lightly and then leaning up into it as the second kiss presses much deeper.
The crowd bursts into whoops and cheers, but it’s drowned out by pulse I can hear pounding in my head. I can’t suppress the full body shiver that goes through me as Xavier’s lips move with mine, or the way I press up, trying to get closer to him.
I know it’s all fake, that we’re just putting on a show for the crowd, but my body reacts to it like it’s real, and that’s—well. It sure is something.
When we break apart, I feel a little dazed, and I’m grateful for the hold Xavier still has on me. He smiles down at me, and I look up, lost in the green, green, green of his eyes.
“Come on,” he says. “I want to dance with my wife.”