Chapter 9 #2
Mrs. Kouros drew back as if she’d been slapped, and Gabi’s mother’s expression turned cold. Colder.
“But, having been raised by you,” Rainie continued, “Galen knows exactly what he does and doesn’t want in a wife. He searched for a warm, spirited woman, one courageous enough to save his life. Or did you forget you wouldn’t have a son at all without Sally?”
When no answer was forthcoming, Rainie tsked-tsked. “You did forget. Oh well, mental deterioration is common at your age.”
Gabi’s mother stepped forward. “Listen, you—”
“No, you two pay attention now. This is a happy time, and you are destroying the mood. I want you both to leave this suite right now.”
Mrs. Kouros had recovered. “You don’t have any say here.”
Rainie gave them a threatening smile. “I’m commonly known as a brat.
And I can assure you that if you don’t stay away from the entire bridal party, including the brides, I will make you the center of a scene the likes of which you’ve never known.
Screaming, hair-pulling, ripped clothing, scratched faces. ”
She paused for breath. Fury edged her voice. “Just try me.”
They backed away, clear to the other side of the kitchen. Mrs. Kouros opened the kitchen door and…
Dear God of little cats and dogs. Dressed in a black tuxedo, Jake stood right outside.
From his stunned expression, he’d heard every single word.
He stepped aside to let the two Bitches of the Year flee and turned to watch them scurry down the sidewalk on their high heels.
He pointed his gaze at Rainie and cocked a brow.
Wasn’t it just fate that her voice chose that moment to dry up?
His lips quirked. “Z sent a heads-up. Guests will start arriving in a few minutes.”
Rainie choked out. “I’ll tell everyone.”
With a polite tilt to his head, he closed the door. Through the open window, she watched him stride away.
He’d heard. She stood in the empty kitchen and shook. Her face felt hot. Cold. Hot. The man she…admired…had listened to her ream out two distinguished women. Like poor white trash. Or a crude, rude, graceless girl from the slums.
Like her own mother.
She’d ruined the entire wedding with her stupid mouth. Please don’t let anyone else have heard her.
She straightened her shoulders and walked into a mob. All the bridesmaids and brides were gathered around the door.
No, no, no. God, what had she done? “I thought I’d kept my voice down.”
“Actually, you weren’t that loud,” Uzuri said. “But we heard the squeaks from the roadkill and, um, moved closer.”
When Gabi met her gaze, Rainie wanted to cry. I attacked my best friend’s mother. She bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Gabi. I was—”
“Entirely honest and direct.” Gowned in white satin, Gabi hugged her. “I just wish I had it on tape, dammit. Now I have to remember it all for Marcus.”
“You don’t hate me?” Rainie choked out, and then, worse, so, so much worse, she saw Sally. Who was crying.
God, she’d ruined her entire—
“I’ve never had friends like you,” Sally whispered. “Ones that would stand up against pressure like that.” Sally wrapped her arms around Rainie and hung on tight.
Oh. Breathe. She pulled in a shuddering inhalation, blinked hard, and hugged Sally back. After the water cleared from her eyes, she managed to look around. She saw the same approving expression from everyone in the room—as well as more tears.
“Stop it, all of you.” The makeup lady scowled at the bridal party. “I used waterproof, but there’s only so much it can do. No crying until after the ceremony.”
As the room exploded with laughter, there was a sound like a gunshot.
Unfazed by the screams, Jessica stood at the counter pouring frothing champagne into tall flutes. She lifted one. “Here’s to the Battle of the Bitches where the best maid won.”
Next to her, Linda laughed, winked at Rainie, and handed out glasses.
Jesus Christ. Still stunned—and laughing—Jake reached the groomsmen’s quarters.
Fucking amazing job. Rainie had taken on those two witches and flattened them.
How many people would have the courage? Those two women were the human female equivalent of huge, aggressive Brazilian Mastiffs.
In comparison, by fighting weight and disposition, Rainie would be closer to a sweet fluffy collie.
But she’d taken them on, defended her friend, and conquered.
He’d have to figure out a way to reward her tonight. Damn, he was proud of her.
He stepped inside the room set up for the groomsmen.
The masculine décor of dark wood and leather was lightened by a floor-to-ceiling view of the shore.
One mirrored wall had a long counter where Marcus, Dan, and Nolan were finishing the last touches to bow ties, pocket silks, and cuff links.
Drinks in hand, Vance and Galen relaxed in the leather chairs in the room’s center.
Saxon, Raoul, and Cullen stood by the chest-high bar, conversing.
Near a window, Sam sat at a table, reading a newspaper.
Jake cleared his throat loudly. When he’d gained everyone’s attention, he announced, “Z requests the groomsmen be at the wedding garden in about five to ten minutes to seat people.”
Cullen nodded. “We’ll be there.”
“You’ve got time for this, then.” Saxon poured and handed Jake a shot of Ketel One.
Jake checked over his friend. “Nice mixture of tux and Viking barbarian.” To do justice to his tux, Saxon had pulled his long hair into a neat queue. His jacket was open, showing off the silver waistcoat. “You look good, bro.”
“I do,” Saxon said smugly. He’d been asked to step in as a groomsman when Holt had been unexpectedly called out of town. Although the brides and grooms possessed family and friends who could participate, they’d kept the wedding party to Shadowlands members.
Surrounded by the relaxed group of friends, Jake had to appreciate the decision.
When Saxon returned to his discussion with Cullen, Jake took an empty chair next to Galen and asked, “The photographer and her helper passed me as I left the brides’ suite. Wasn’t the assistant supposed to be here?”
Vance grinned. “Yeah. She fled when Cullen started stripping.”
Cullen glanced around at the sound of his name.
Jake eyed him. “I thought you finished dressing an hour ago.”
“I did.” One elbow on the bar, Cullen swirled his drink. “Next time, she’ll ask permission before busting into the men’s quarters.”
Every guy in the room laughed, even Nolan. Galen lifted his glass, toasting Cullen.
Galen. Hell.
Jake took a hefty swallow of the vodka, let it burn its way down, before facing a man he considered a friend. Jake judged himself diplomatic, but this was out of his depth. Yet, if positions were reversed, he’d want to know—and sooner rather than later. “Listen,” he started.
Galen straightened at the grim tone. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“No. When I went to the bridal suite…”
As the retelling of the battle continued, Galen’s expression turned dark.
“Galen,” Vance said. “We knew this might happen. Your mother is…who she is.”
“Ayuh. And she had her chance,” Galen said quietly. “I’ll ensure she excuses herself once the wedding is over. She won’t attend the reception.”
“Agreed.” Vance gave Jake a chin-lift. “We appreciate the info, and we’ll thank Rainie when we get a chance.”
Jake nodded. Their Sally was a delightful submissive, younger than Rainie in some ways, but with the same exuberance of spirit. Perhaps, that’s why it had taken two FBI Doms to tame the girl.
As for Rainie… Jake smiled slightly. He considered himself just the subbie-tamer needed for her.
Not men to postpone an unpleasant task, Vance and Galen set their drinks down and left.
As Raoul joined Sam by the window, Cullen settled into a leather chair across from Jake.
“Hey, bro.” Saxon took the other seat. “We’ve been so busy I didn’t ask how your new pet worked out.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, thinking Sax meant Rainie, then realized he referred to Violetta’s dog. “Guido is fine, although the little bastard dug up three of my pepper plants.” He grinned. “He’s decided he’s a cat now, so MacArthur and Patton drafted him into the feline army.”
“That’s pitiful. Ruination of a fine dog.”
“Nah, they keep him busy enough he hasn’t had a chance to mope.”
“Was the delivery girl useful?” Saxon’s light brows quirked upward.
Now, he meant Rainie. Jake scowled. “I appreciate it…but you shouldn’t have sent her. I was damned rude to her.”
“I bet she understood.” Drink in hand, Saxon extended his legs, totally at ease. “When she’s not playing prankster, she’s a comforting woman. I figured she might help.”
“I shouldn’t need help,” Jake growled. “I can deal with things myself.” Jesus, did he think Jake would dump his troubles on—
“Andrea thought that, too,” Cullen said quietly.
“And she is right,” Jake said. “A Dom stands on his own feet. Shouldn’t need—”
Cullen shook his head. “No, buddy, that’s what she thought about herself. Her father played hell with her perception of independence. Took a while before she realized we’re just human, and it’s all right to lean on someone else.”
Jake imagined Gunny’s growl of outrage, but he said mildly, “How can a Dom be strong for the submissive if he needs her help?”
“No one gets through life without needing some support,” Cullen answered. “A Dom has to be honest with himself and his submissive. And—”
“Time to go, gentlemen,” Nolan interrupted. “We’ve got guests arriving.”
As he followed the others out the door, Jake set aside the argument. Dammit, he respected Cullen. Fine man; fine Dom.
But he was wrong.
For half an hour, Jake escorted guests down the curving path through crimson roses, under the jasmine arbor, and then across the manicured grass to the white chairs decorated with silver and blue ribbons.
In the front, blue flowers cascaded from the arch of the white gazebo, and beyond that, the sandy beach rolled down to the blue-gray waters of the Gulf.
The day was peaceful with the quiet conversations of the guests and waves sighing on the shore. The palms dotting the edge of the grass rustled in the light wind.
As the sun dropped behind the bank of clouds, the grooms and groomsmen took their places, half on each side of the gazebo. Z stood at the apex, and his black-on-black attire lent his justice-of-the-peace appearance a dangerous edge.
Jake turned as the bridal party appeared. The chairs had been arranged to provide twin diagonal corridors, and on the left one, Kim headed the line of Gabi’s bridesmaids. Kari led Sally’s posse. Upon reaching the front, Kari took a place beside her husband Dan, and Kim beside Raoul.
When Uzuri and Beth were halfway down the aisles, Rainie and Andrea followed, glancing across the center seats at each other to keep in step.
Jake smiled. Hell, most men seeing Rainie would have to smile. In contrast with Andrea, Rainie was shorter. Rounder. And so happy that the light seemed to increase when it struck her.
He’d never met a woman like her. From the way she was transforming their clinic, to her pleasure in Rhage, to the way she’d defended her friend, to the way the animals—and owners—instinctively trusted her.
She was…amazing. What they had was amazing.
He intended to hang onto her.
The music changed, and the audience rose.
Much to their fiancés’ bemusement, the two brides had decided on a traditional entrance.
So Gabi’s father escorted her.
Sally’s father, who apparently was a total asshole, hadn’t been invited. However, in Jake’s opinion, Sally had found someone better. She’d asked Sam to act as her father and walk her down the aisle.
And the sadist—who terrified every submissive in the Shadowlands—had choked up with tears in his eyes.
As they came down the aisle, Gabi’s father moved like a robot, far more concerned with his dignity than with his daughter. Upon arriving at the front, he handed his daughter off to Marcus and strode away.
In contrast, Sam kept his gaze on Sally, openly pleased with the girl’s sparkling joy. He brought her to a halt at the gazebo and offered Galen her left hand, Vance her right. After kissing her cheek, he shot her men an easily interpretable stare—treat her right or answer to me.
When Sally made an undoubtedly impertinent comment, he barked a laugh.
He paused to give Marcus the exact same warning look. Touching Gabi’s cheek gently, he said something too low to hear.
And, Gabi, having easily dismissed her own father, smiled at Sam and blinked back tears.
As Sam took his seat, Z cleared his throat and began, officiating the ceremony with the dignity and polish everyone expected from him. With an occasional revision to accommodate Sally’s ménage, he blended together a psychologist’s hard-won knowledge with a Master’s even harder-won wisdom.
Vows were exchanged. Rings were exchanged. Most of the women in the audience were dabbing at their eyes.
Amused, Jake shook his head, then caught the look Marcus offered his woman. Openly loving and proud and possessive.
Next to him, Galen held Sally, resting his cheek on top of her hair, as if he’d acquired something so precious he feared to squeeze too hard. After exchanging a long, pleased look with Vance, he passed her to his partner.
And Jake found himself blinking back tears.
Weddings, truly a treacherous battlefield. His gaze rested on Rainie. Hazardous or not, he planned to win the skirmish and take her home tonight.