Chapter 10
“And do you, Dean Ambrose McLean, take Lenny…” The words of the priest fade out as my eyes sweep over the room.
Extended family members and friends of the McLean and Hunt families, bedecked in wedding finery, fill every inch of the pews in the cathedral.
I've never been more proud of Dean than I am now, standing beside him as he pledges himself to the love of his life, for eternity.
The late afternoon sunlight streams in from the stained glass windows of the cathedral, sending in light rays in a mix of yellow, blue, green, and red.
The light dances on the faces of the crowd, revealing a smile on every mouth.
The entire church looks and smells like a garden.
Dahlia labyrinths and hibiscus flowers in coral hues are scattered across the church, hugging pews and hanging from the ceiling.
But all of these breathtaking flowers with their sweet scent pale in comparison to one person.
No, not the bride. Dora. I've had to call on every bit of self-control and discipline to keep me from making a fool of myself.
Ever since I spotted her at the entry of the church, I've been too enamored. She's a beaut, Dora is.
I could scarcely breathe when she began to walk down the aisle.
The dress drapes across her body like a lover's embrace, clinging to her every curve.
The other bridesmaids who had come before her and after her couldn't hold a candle to her.
The hem of the dress floats around her feet as she walks, making it seem like she is gliding, not walking.
The one part of her dress that continuously makes me lose my focus is the neckline.
A moderate v-neck displays just a hint of cleavage, but drives me mad imagining what else lies beneath.
My eyes stray to Dora’s face again as Dean kisses his bride.
She is dabbing at the tears in her eyes while her gaze is riveted on her brother.
Something must've told her I am openly staring at her because she frowns and her eyes meet mine.
I smile easily, trying to communicate just how beautiful she looks at this moment.
She returns my smile shyly and looks away.
The ceremony draws to a close and we move to the grand reception dinner organized by Marybeth, my mother, and Violetta at The Ritz-Carlton.
The hall twinkles with brilliant lights and the air is heavy with the flowery scent of Dahlia labyrinths and Hibiscus.
The tables are full of guests having a great time, and within a short while I raise my glass to give my speech.
Once the dancing begins, I stand by a column, partially hidden from view and watch everyone dance. At the same time, I’m avoiding Mamma and Dad. I'm certain they are ready to drown me with questions about when I intend to settle down like Dean. My gaze flits around the room until it lands on Dora.
Try as I might, I've been unable to stop myself from looking at her.
The graceful slope of her shoulders, carrying the weight of her mass of raven hair somehow arranged in a low bun with ringlets, calls to my lips.
I ache to place a trail of kisses along her shoulders, starting with her neck.
Just thinking about it is already causing blood to rush toward my nether region.
“I've been watching you watch her, my man!” Dean’s voice comes from behind me as he claps me on the shoulder. My mind begins to race in fear that I've been caught. I don a blank look on my face and turn to face Dean. “Someone’s got to! I'm keeping my eyes on her so no snake comes close.”
Dean laughs. He looks laid back, with his wedding jacket and tie gone and his sleeves folded up. “You don't have to pretend, Cole. I'm sensing the chemistry.”
Dean’s pronouncement sends fear zipping through me.
It isn't possible. He's just fishing. I've been very quiet.
I don't respond immediately because a liar would do that.
Instead, I slide a lazy smile onto my lips, regarding him carefully.
“Dean, you're barking up the wrong tree.
It's your wedding day, so you're romanticizing everything, seeing something where there is nothing.”
I give his shoulder a quick squeeze at the look of disbelief in his eyes. Deciding to push it a step further, I ask, “Or have you forgotten the pact we made when we were twelve?”
As soon as I utter those words, the memories resurface. It is one day I regret most as an adult because if it hadn't been for this one day, I would be with… I sigh. Regretting that day is just me putting myself through the wringer. The memory plays behind my eyes like it was just yesterday.
Dean and I had bolted ourselves inside Dean’s treehouse to avoid interruptions. Dora had turned four, and she’d begun to climb really well. We didn't want her barging in on us, so we’d locked the door, shoving the chest of toys in front to wedge the door closed.
We were wearing our gym period t-shirts because we could.
It was summer, and the scalding sunlight filtered through the open windows, bringing in heat and sun.
We talked about becoming soldiers, fighting wars, and maintaining peace.
Next, we talked about becoming pirates and finding a chest full of gold so we could buy any country of our choice.
Finally, we talked about becoming husbands.
Dean declares eagerly, “I think it's a bad idea for you to marry my sister or me to marry yours. That's like marrying my own sister.”
I pause to mull over it for a while before agreeing emphatically. “You’re right. Sisters are off-limits.”
Dean rises from the inflatable chair and begins to pace. “I think we should shake on it, make it a pact. I don't want our sisters to come in and take over our friendship.”
I nod, stroking the fake beard on my jaw. “And once again, you are right.”
Dean halts before me, “Just look at how two sisters messed up Josh and Pete’s friendship.” Josh and Pete were two popular high school boys in our school. They ended their friendship last semester because of their sisters.
I shake my head in pain, “That can never be us.”
Dean agrees with a nod and we shake on it, repeating the words necessary to seal our pacts. “We will never fall in love with each other’s sisters. We will never date each other’s sisters. Nor will we marry each other’s sisters.”
We seal it with a handshake.
I return back to the present as the last piece of the memory fades away. “We made a pact, and I made a promise to you. A promise I intend to keep no matter how much time passes by.”
There's a look of incredulity on Dean’s face, followed by the question, “Cole… You're serious?”
I laugh low and deep before answering, “Of course I am. You best believe that the feelings I harbor towards Dora are completely brotherly. Platonic. She's as much my baby sister as she is yours.” I clap Dean’s shoulder again.
“And what do big brothers do? They protect. Which is why I check on her from time to time.”
Dean looks crestfallen and I wonder why. He should be relieved, just like I'm proud of myself for making a very convincing speech. A full-on denial of my true feelings. I keep up my easy smile as I resume watching the crowd.
“Huh?” Dean says before he thanks me for my brilliant toast and walks away, leaving me behind.
I exhale a huge breath I wasn't even aware I’d been holding.
That was close, I say to myself. I snatch a glass of scotch from a waiter strolling past me and down it in one gulp.
Subconsciously my eyes stray to where Dora is now dancing with her dad.
Realizing I'm gaping at her again, I finally admit it – I'm in trouble!