Chapter 23 #2
Our friends are smiling and clapping, boisterous, and a stark contradiction to the restrained golf claps from the rest of the attendees. Connor’s mother looks furious, and his father’s expression is a dark storm cloud. I’m sure slipping me the tongue in church is high on the list of no-nos.
Connor takes my arm and covers my hand with his when I settle it on his forearm. He bends, lips brushing my ear. “You’re better than every single person in this room, and the important people already know it.”
Even though my legs are unsteady, I let his words wash over me and infuse steel into my spine.
I’m a Grace now. And even if it’s only temporary, that name carries power.
Cashmere-lined armor, like he said before.
I feel the power in taking his name, in being his.
I roll my shoulders back, and I feel his lips curve against my temple.
Everyone rises as we move down the aisle. I smile at my friends in the first few rows, then focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Connor leads me to the wedding party suite, which is different from the separate suites where we got ready.
We only have a minute before our friends will be here. I look up to take in the full glory of my…husband. “Holy shit.”
“You okay?” He runs his hands down my arms.
“We’re married.”
“We are.” He nods, his smile tentative. “I have something for you.”
For a moment I expect him to pull a wad of cash out of his pocket, but instead he retrieves a tiny organza bag.
I tip my head, curious as he carefully loosens it, then moves my hand so it’s palm up between us and shakes a small friendship bracelet into my hand.
I finger the beads that read Mrs. Grace.
He clears his throat. “I made it for you.”
My gaze lifts to his. “You made this?”
“Yeah.” He pushes his cuff up. “I have one, too.” His reads Mr. Grace.
My eyes prick. My heart stutters. I don’t know if Connor realizes the significance of this, of how much those bracelets I’ve gathered all the road of my life mean to me; they’re fragments of all the good parts.
It suddenly feels like someone injected Novocain into the top of my head, and it’s running down my body like a waterfall. I grab the lapels of his tux. “You should kiss me again.”
His eyebrows rise.
“Please. Now. I need a distraction, or I’ll end up crying,” I explain.
His brow furrows, and his expression darkens. “Regretting your choices already?”
“No, my feelings are big and your sweetness is hitting me in all my soft places. Please distract me, Mr. Grace.”
“Whatever you need, Mrs. Grace.” He cups my face in his hands and slants his mouth over mine.
The soft stroke of his tongue, the rough pads of his gentle fingers on my face, the comforting smell of sandalwood and citrus, and the warmth of his body pull me back from the edge of panic.
“Whoa, hey now!” Kodiak’s deep voice breaks the spell.
I stroke my tongue against Connor’s one last time before I break the kiss.
“We can give you a few minutes,” Lexi offers with a smirk.
“It’s fine,” I assure them. Consummating our marriage isn’t supposed to be on the table, let alone something that happens before we’ve even had photos.
I walk over and push open the door, waving everyone in. “We were just saying hi. Everyone, please join us!”
Our friends pile into the room, and bottles of champagne are popped and poured. After a minute, Connor’s parents and brothers-in-law join us.
“You look lovely, Mildred,” Courtney says through a practiced smile.
“Thank you so much. This is such a dream come true.” I mean it.
“I’m sure it is,” she counters.
Meems appears, bless her sweet heart, and takes one of our hands in each of hers. “I’m so thrilled to welcome you into the Grace family, Dred. You’re going to make each other so happy.”
I wrap my arms around her. “It’s such an honor to be part of your family, Meems.”
Her eyes are watery with unshed tears. “Thank you for bringing out the very best in my grandson.”
My heart clenches, but I don’t have time to respond, because Courtney commands our attention.
“The photographers are set up in the gardens. The wedding party should meet us out there in ten minutes.” Her gaze shifts to me, and I wish I could read her expression. “Welcome to the family, Mildred.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
Julian holds out a hand to Isabelle.
“Izzy will meet you out there. She’s part of the wedding party,” Connor tells him.
Julian smiles tightly. “Of course. I’ll see you shortly.” He kisses Isabelle on the cheek and follows Courtney and Duncan out of the room.
“I hope he gets wasted and passes out early,” she mutters into her glass.
I snort a laugh.
Her eyes go wide. “I’m just joking, obviously.”
“Feed them shots. They won’t know their ass from their armpit by the time dinner is over,” Connor suggests flatly.
Photographs with the wedding party are full of laughter, and even my usually broody husband is all smiles as his teammates gather around him.
I hope he feels like he’s part of them today.
I want what’s happening between us, temporary or not, to show him that this team can give him the support and friendship he needs, just like they have for me.
The wedding party is then excused while Courtney directs the family photos. They’re stiff and a little unpleasant, and then things get awkward when she decides they should have some mother-and-daughter photos.
“Are they serious with this?” I ask Connor.
“Oh yeah.” He grabs two glasses of champagne and passes me one.
“But this is our wedding.”
“They’re paying for the photographer, though.”
Courtney calls Julian and Bryson over so they can pose with Isabelle and Portia.
It astounds me that they can leave him out so easily. “Would you like Connor and me to join the sibling photos?” I call out.
Courtney startles.
Connor snorts a laugh into his champagne glass.
“Oh! Yes! Of course.”
I down my champagne and spend the rest of the photo session inserting Connor and myself into every single one of them, because fuck his parents for leaving him out at his own damn wedding.