Emily
It takes a lot to put on a wedding. So many moving parts. Parts that Thayer has mostly taken care of. But today he can’t take the lead. And the first issue is getting me down the stairs.
“I can take the elevator by myself.” I glare at Holloway. “It’s too small for you to fit with me in my dress.”
“No,” Holloway barks.
“Crap on a cracker. It’s an elevator. I can figure out its old-ass controls. Just tell me how to do it. Aren’t people supposed to tell brides ‘yes’ on their wedding day?”
“I’m not your groom, and it’s been weird since the storm when the power went out.” Holloway crosses his arms over his chest.
“Has someone come out to look at it?” Lilith asks.
“Yes, but it was made before 1900. We don’t use it a lot. They said it will work, but they need to make a part for it. When it stops, it stops.”
“That makes sense. Obviously, I didn’t even know it existed until the other day. I can walk down the stairs.”
“No,” Callie and Lilith say at the same time.
“Fine, there’s a lot of stairs. I’ll take the dress off, walk downstairs, and get dressed again.”
“No,” someone says. At this point, I don’t even care. And it doesn’t even matter as everyone else’s brains have turned to uncompromising mush.
“Hey?” Ryder calls up. Easton and Anders are next to him.
“We’ve been sent to see if everything is okay. Everyone’s seated,” Anders says, hitting the top step.
“The elevator’s not trustworthy, and we need to get her downstairs.” Lil points at me like I’m cargo.
“I can walk because I’m not going to sprout wings and fly.”
“Hold on,” Ryder says, as he picks me up, well, like a bride.
“Well, hello.” I laugh.
“This is no laughing matter, Emily Ann Rockwell. He’ll trip over your train,” Lilith says, sounding a lot like one of our dorm mothers.
“I’ll carry the train.” Anders sweeps it up.
“Not like that.” Callie smooths it out in his arms.
“Do you want to get married?” Ryder asks.
“I do,” I say to his hazel eyes, and I have to turn away before everyone else picks up on my feelings for Ryder.
We make it down the stairs, and he lowers me to my feet with care. “See you out there.”
Ryder and Anders make their way down the corridor to the garden.
Easton stands in front of me. There’s a furrow in his brow. I grab his arm.
Lilith gives me a quick hand squeeze and races after the guys.
“We’ll be right there,” I say.
“I’ll wait at the corner to straighten your train,” Callie says. “You look beautiful, love. Thank you for inviting me.”
“Of course. I can’t thank you enough for this amazing dress.” I clasp both of my hands over hers.
Easton hands me my bouquet. Peonies and roses. Thayer and I never talked about flowers. He must have asked Lilith about what I liked. I shake off the zaps of excitement. This is fake, this is fake.
“Hey, bro, your dreams are about to come true,” I say.
“Are they?”
“Yeah, you get to give me away.”
“I believe the quote from when I was four was I wanted Mom to throw you away. Not give you away.” He laughs.
I take his arm, and he smells less like fish. Linen and musk. I sniff his shoulder.
“Oliver sprayed me.”
“Oh, it smells good.” I turn away. Having Oliver’s panty-melting scent on my brother has my insides confused. “Wait.”
“Em?”
I don’t tell him why. I take Oliver’s note out of my pocket and rip it open with speed, which with my fake nails is an accomplishment in itself. My eyes soak in the words, and I push the note back into my pocket.
“Ready.” I stop at the edge of the doorway.
Just in time to see Lilith vanish. The music changes.
I can make out a bit of the yard. The garden has been transformed.
Simple and elegant. Lilith questioned me more than once about whether I was doing the right thing trusting in Thayer to plan everything.
You hate surprises, she said. And true enough, I do.
Though not enough to plan my own fake wedding.
But these surprises? These have been wonderful.
When all this is done, he could be an event planner.
Turning the corner hits me hard. Faces looking at me.
People from all over the world, friends from high school, college, and my foundation.
The garden’s full. But beyond the heads of the guests stand Elena, Whitney, and Lilith.
On the other side are Thayer, Oliver, Ryder, and Anders.
The four of them stare at me like I’m naked.
My heart thrashes against my ribs. Sweat collects in my palms, and I’m grateful to be holding flowers. To calm me down. Also, I’m pushing the thought of my flowers flying across the heads of the guests, thudding against the officiant on the top of his mostly bald head.
Easton leans in and smiles at me. “You got this.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
I know I’m supposed to only look at Thayer, but my eyes skip down the row of best men and back to Thayer.
There’s a twitch at his lip and his eyes are glassy like Lil’s were upstairs.
Is he regretting this? Regretting ever bumping into me in the corridor at Pine Green?
Of flirting with a freshman? Of tucking my hair behind my ear?
Of me sitting at his lunch table pretending I didn’t know that’s where he had sat for three years?
Our first kiss, our last kiss. The dance at Whitney’s wedding.
My eyes flick to her. She’s crying but makes it look elegant and classy.
Back to Thayer. His lips part when Easton and I hit the halfway point. The twitch stops, and he switches to smiling. There’s a twinkle in his eyes. Why? He’s a good actor. He can’t actually want this. Want me.
Easton stops, like I practiced with Anders at rehearsal, at the end of the rows of guests. Easton kisses my cheek and squeezes my hand.
Thayer steps up. “Easton,” he says.
“Thayer.” Easton squeezes my hand and steps to the side.
I take Thayer’s arm, and we walk the last few feet together.
The ceremony’s as short as Whitney’s and glosses over whether there is anyone here who would like to speak out about this marriage. Because the world is full of them. It’s the one thing I asked Thayer to not include. That and no obeying in the vows.
“I do.” My voice shakes as Thayer slides the ring on.
Our kiss is quick and chaste, and when the recessional music plays, I’m hustled away.
We’re hidden in the pantry while the guests make their way to the tent.
The photographer wants all the guests to move to the dinner venue, and if they can see us, they won’t go.
I helped with enough weddings when I was trying to do photography to know they’re right.
Thayer closes the door, locking us in with massive cans of tomatoes and sacks of rice.
“If there’s ever an apocalypse, Havenwood is the place to be,” I say.
“Are you nervous, wife?” Thayer steps closer to me.
I stand on my toes and bop his nose. Because yes I’m nervous.
That “I do” a minute ago felt all too real.
I’m shaking inside. If he grabbed me, twisted me, and was able to find me inside all of this skirt, I wouldn’t say no to his hands roaming around my skin.
And that scares the living crap out of me.
“Not at all.” I put my flowers on a bag of flour.
“Are you nervous, husband?” I keep my hands on my hips.
His fingers brush along the side of my cheek.
“Don’t get too comfortable in there,” Lilith yells. “We’re hiding you to make the pictures faster, not slower. Keep the clothes on!”
“Yes, ma’am,” Thayer says and salutes the door. He leans to my ear and whispers, “That’s never a problem. But only with me . . .”
My dress swishes as I step away from him. It’s the sound of dress-up, proms, awards banquets for Rockwell & Harding, and now fake marriages. I turn the knob, but it doesn’t budge. “Open the door, Lil.”
“I got you. Everyone dressed?” She smirks at me disappointedly when she sees we are.
The photographer has us do all the standard poses.
Really, she’s pretty good for being available last minute.
But then I wonder whose wedding Thayer stole her from.
Hopefully, they made a profit. She takes a whole bunch of Thayer and me.
Him staring at the back of my dress. Us holding uncomfortable eye contact.
Where my treacherous bits have me squeezing my legs together.
Then we add everyone else into the mix. Easton stands stiffly next to me. But when the photographer moves Thayer out, he relaxes. Lilith is snapping away from the bottom of the stairs with a cellphone.
Easton leans over. “Can I send some of these to Dad? I’ll make sure Rachel is with him.”
I nod. And the tears are on the edge of my false eyelashes again.
More than anything, I would have loved for Rachel to be here too.
I didn’t know my second cousin well when she started working for my dad, but now she’s my lifeline.
The person I trust to make sure he’s always okay.
I nod. Because words will make me lose it.
The photographer crouches, her peach, wide-legged pants-suit puddling around her ankles as she does. “Awesome. You two are so easy to photograph.”
I smile. It’s a compliment. I know what she means, having been there not long but having done it. The subtext is that Thayer and I aren’t in love. I’m doing my best award-winning performance. “Okay, let’s get the groomsmen in with the bride and groom.”
Oliver takes one side and Ryder and Anders the other.
The photographer cocks her head at Oliver.
“Saving your place, bestie,” Oliver says, slapping Thayer’s shoulder as he slides in next to me.
When she’s captured enough, Thayer steps out. “I’d like one of them together. The important people in my life.”
“Okay.” The photographer snaps away.
Oliver’s hand brushes mine. It’s hidden behind my bouquet, but it makes my heart jump, anyway.
When every possible combination is finished, including a few of Oliver and Sutton together that I hope don’t get leaked, we make our way to the tent.
It’s a lovely garden-themed setup. It’s not over the top like my friends’ New York weddings.
It’s just enough. There’s a lot of live plants instead of cut arrangements.
And there is a row of pine trees at the back of the tent perfuming the air.
It sends me back to Pine Green, to happy Christmases with my mother.
I inhale and take in Thayer’s smiling face. There’s a question hidden in it.
“It’s perfect. Absolutely.” I grab his elbow and stand up on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. Because there’s nothing more I can say. His attention to detail and remembering things I liked from more than a decade ago is staggering.
He takes my hand, and the lead singer of a local band introduces us as Emily and Thayer. There’s a lot about today I didn’t think about before now. And that was one of them. Relief flows through me into our intertwined fingers.
Thayer squeezes my hand. He puts his lips next to my ear. “Figured you’d knee me if I had them introduce you as Mrs. Zambrano.”
I laugh. “You figured right.”
We’re settled at a separate old-fashioned head table.
Drinks are poured. Soft music from the amazing band begins.
I wouldn’t have picked them, but they might be my new favorite.
Thayer’s on my right, and Oliver’s on my left.
It’s got me on edge. Not that I don’t want to sit next to Oliver.
And not that I don’t want Oliver to touch me.
But I’m afraid of my acting skills if he does.
He’s well-behaved, though. And has charming banter for Whitney, whom he’s sitting next to.
I catch Miles, her new husband, more than once glaring at Oliver.
Thayer brushes the side of my neck, and goosebumps emerge down my right side. “Miles is familiar with Oliver’s work. He hung with us at Hemmings College,” Thayer says in another whisper above my ear.
I pick up my glass, hiding my mouth. “He doesn’t look happy about it.”
“Indeed. If he only knew.” Thayer smirks and wiggles his eyebrows at me.
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Perhaps I am, wife.”
There’s a flutter in my stomach, one that has nothing to do with the lovely food. I can’t have it. I can’t have him. And letting the perfection of today get to me? That’s not going to help. “You know the deal.”
“Indeed,” he growls and picks up his wineglass. He leans in. “And you do too. This is our wedding.”
Our heads are inches away. “True.” I lick my lips, and I have to admit I kind of want him to kiss me.
“A bride and groom should kiss.” We’re both extra careful.
Each of us covering our mouths or holding a glass in front as we whisper to each other.
Oliver might hear something, but Lilith is too busy asking Ryder about people he might know in Vermont to hear anything.
He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me toward him.
It’s slow and fast at the same time. There’s a hitch in my pulse as his hazel eyes focus on mine.
My brain sizzles, and the tent recedes. His hard lips soften when I open mine.
The few forkfuls of cake he’s eaten leave sugar and whiskey on my tongue.
His other hand lowers to my waist. I push my hand onto the top of his leg, inches away from his crotch.
I lift my fingers to move them back but end up running my hand down the hard bulge in his pants.
He tenses and hisses into my mouth but doesn’t stop controlling the kiss.
The feral part of my brain wants to lift my dress and crawl into his lap to dry hump him.
“Damn, Vixen,” Oliver mutters behind me, and that’s enough to lift my head from Thayer’s.
The tent’s filled with applause. Applause I didn’t hear until our kiss finished. The band finishes their song.
“Time for the toasts,” Oliver says and stands.
A server hands him a microphone. I’m not nervous.
Oliver might be full of innuendo in private, but in public he knows how to act.
All eyes are on Oliver, but he doesn’t start.
And my thoughts race. He hasn’t decided to out us?
No, he would never. Oliver bows his head and leans over me.
He whispers so low to Thayer even I can’t hear.
Thayer stands. There’s a flash of anger that he sets a mask over, and I follow where his eyes are fixed.
James Zambrano stands in the entryway, backlit by the lights of the house. “Son,” his voice echoes through the tent.
* * *
Thank you for reading Savage Vow.