Chapter 27
Skylar
“It’s time.” Imelda holds out her arm. I asked her to walk me down the aisle at the last minute. Mostly because she’s such a confident woman, I hoped some of it would rub off on me.
I opted against having bridesmaids—not least of all, because my darling fiancé announced yesterday that the wedding was today.
He’d already taken care of the paperwork, including having the registrar arrive at the venue to officiate at the wedding, so we’d simply have to sign the forms on the spot.
The man thinks of everything, although I’ll admit, arriving at the venue and realizing it was at a beach surprised me.
Zoey saw my shocked expression and confessed to me that she might have mentioned my preference to Summer, who mi-i-ight have mentioned it to Sinclair with the explicit instruction to pass on that information to my fiancé. What he did with it was up to him…
She confessed she didn’t think he’d actually track down the only natural beach within miles of London and rent it for the day.
The cost of it—Oh, my, Stranger Things— I don’t want to hazard a guess.
Rachel, the wedding planner, mentioned to me that he’d been very specific about how he wanted the big gazebo where we’re standing to be put up.
It’ll shield us against the wind, and there’s a plush carpet underfoot and heaters every few feet. So, despite the fact it’s a blustery January afternoon outside, it’ll be warm there. He also had a separate tent put up, which I’m using as a dressing room.
Grace peeked in earlier, as did Summer and Zoey.
Apparently, he invited my friends, after I mentioned that I’d love to have them at my wedding.
This, despite the fact his preference was to turn up at the courthouse, sign the papers, then go back home and consummate the marriage.
My nipples tighten. C-o-n-s-u-m-m-a-t-e.
Meaning, soon I’ll be his wife and he’ll expect to penetrate my vagina with his huge cock.
And it is huge. It barely fit down my throat, and he’ll stuff it inside my aching channel, which is already a mass of wetness in anticipation.
“You, ah… You’re all flushed.” Imelda glances around the space. “Funny, I hadn’t thought the heaters in here were that intense.”
“They’re not.”
She turns to stare at me.
“I mean… I’m, ah… Having a hot flash, is all.”
“Hot flash?” Her eyebrows knit, then her forehead smooths out. "Oh, that kind of hot flash.” Her eyes twinkle.
I feel my flush deepen.
“Looking forward to being in the arms of your beloved. Aren’t you cute?” She sighs.
“It’s not—" I begin, but she waves away my explanation.
“It’s quite all right, my dear. I remember how it was to see the face of my husband for the first time in front of the priest. He lifted my veil, and I looked into his blue eyes and thought he was the most handsome man on the planet.”
“That’s when you saw him for the first time?”
“It was an arranged marriage. My family expected me to comply, of course. Not that I’d have dreamed of going against them.
I thought I was the luckiest woman in the entire world, especially since I’d known friends who’d had a rude surprise when they found out their husbands were nowhere near as good-looking as they’d hoped they’d be.
Mine was handsome. Unfortunately, he also liked to drink and beat me many nights. ”
“Oh, Imelda,” I gasp.
She shrugs. “Once the kids were born, he lost interest in me, thank fuck. He had mistresses on the side. But I was just happy he left me alone. As he got older, he seemed to want to spend more time with me and the children. And once the kids were older and left home, we finally seemed to find a balance. Our last years together were our happiest. But then he died, and I found I still had a lot of the world to discover.”
“Thank you for sharing.” I lock my arm with hers. “I hope I’ll have half as much courage as you when it comes to making decisions related to my married life.” Especially when it’s time to walk away. Once I’m sure Hugo is taken care of and that the bakery is self-sufficient.
I used some of the money he deposited in my bank account to pay off my debts and to cover the pending bills at Hugo’s care home.
A portion of the rest went toward hiring the woman who interned with me earlier this year.
I wasn’t able to keep her on because I had no money to pay her, but now I do.
And she was looking for a job. She was able to fill the position right away and took on duties at the shop today, which is why I was able to leave to come here.
This whole wedding thing happened so quickly, but it's a blessing.
Instead of having the rest of the week hanging over me, this is like pulling off a Band-Aid.
Get the deed done, so we could both move on with our lives.
"I’m sure your experience will be very different." Imelda pats my hand. "After all, you know who you’re marrying."
Do I? I know the parts he’s shown to me.
And I know of him from what Ben told me.
I know he's much more tender than he likes to let on. And that he has tattoos, which I haven’t yet seen.
And that he has a raging sex-drive, which I’m not complaining about.
Also, there’s a darkness to him, which should put me off but doesn’t.
Maybe there’s a darkness inside of me which responds to the depravity within him.
In the last few days, I’ve come to know Nate better, but that doesn’t mean I know him well at all.
If anything, it’s made me realize how much of himself he’s kept away from me.
How much I want to find out everything about him.
Especially his proclivity to BDSM. My toes curl.
That slow pulse between my legs speeds up.
Then we walk out of the tent, and Rachel ushers us toward the main gazebo. We enter, and a hush falls over the small group.
Zoey’s face bursts into a big smile. She nudges Grace, who’s staring at her phone. She looks up, then over her shoulder, and her features soften. "You got this," she mouths to me.
I smile, feeling tears form behind my eyes. I sniff, and Imelda squeezes my arm. We pass by the row with Summer and Sinclair, who has his arm about her. Next to them, is a couple I don’t recognize. I don’t know the couple seated in front of them, either. They must be Nathan’s friends.
On the opposite side of the aisle are his half-brothers.
Knox nods in my direction, before looking forward.
One of his brothers, who wears specs, flashes me a smile.
His other two brothers, however, wear bored expressions.
One of them yawns as I pass. The other glowers at something in the distance.
Apparently, he’s angry about the world, in general.
Jeez, these men take tall, dark and grumpy to another level.
It’s clear they’d rather be anywhere else but here.
A slight breeze blows in from the open flap that frames the beach.
Nate’s other half-brother, Edward—who used to be a priest, and who agreed to officiate the wedding, and who I met today when he came to introduce himself in the other tent—beams at me.
Facing him, with his back toward me, is my future husband.
I take a step forward and he stiffens. Then, as if sensing my perusal, he turns to look at me.