Chapter 26 Connor
CONNOR
Iwake up across the room from Cateline. Despite my desire to make her my wife in real life, something is different.
The electricity in the air.
The pulse in my veins.
I was a very good boy last night. Nothing that would cause a kerfluffle. Nothing that would get me kicked off the team. I miss the guys and throwing the ball, along with shooting the bull, but spending time with Cateline is a happy distraction.
My brother’s wedding later today? Not so much.
I run through the nuts and bolts of holy matrimony. Vows to love, honor, and assist each other through sickness and health, for better or worse, richer and poorer.
Cain ought to quit while he’s ahead because I’ll eat my helmet if he makes it to their first anniversary.
Then again, he somehow hornswoggled Lizabeth into accepting his proposal. Well, presumably he proposed. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hollered at her to get him a can of something cold and then said something like, Marry me, woman.
That’s the classy kind of guy Cain is. Then again, I haven’t always been a gentleman either.
Did he get Lizabeth a ring? I guess I’ll find out.
I glance at Cateline, peacefully slumbering and wrapped tight in the blankets like a mummy.
We’re supposedly engaged and I didn’t get her a ring.
Then again, the news came just yesterday.
Her grandmother’s ring, a vintage piece with a delicate but sparkly diamond in the center, seems more meaningful anyway.
I don’t doubt that Cateline likes finery, given her extensive shoe collection and wardrobe, but I don’t think she’s in this fake engagement for the flash.
Bringing Cat to the field last night was a risk. Anna and I used to go there, but it was never like that. Cateline was genuinely enchanted by the fireflies...and I was taken by her kiss.
Not going to brag, but I’ve kissed a lot of women. And not one of them, not even Anna, ever made me feel the way I did last night. The way I still do.
I never thought my heart would beat again—the unique rhythm that’s different than the one when I’m pounding down the field with a football.
Cateline must sense my gaze on her because she rouses. Blinking her eyes open, they land on me. I expect the slow spread of her smile. Instead, she gasps and clutches the covers to her chest.
“Cat, it’s just me.”
“Sorry. I haven’t woken up in a room with someone in a long time. I wasn’t expecting you there.”
“Don’t worry, I stayed over here...in the other bed.”
She flops onto her back and lets out a breath, relieved.
“Not exactly the response I was hoping for from my fiancée.”
“I’m traditional, Connor.”
“I’m aware and respect that, but I wouldn’t object to a snuggle.” The kiss from last night comes into focus—and what a kiss it was.
“Please let me wake up first.” Her voice is especially smoky, her French accent especially thick.
But the snuggle doesn’t come. Instead, she gets an urgent long-distance call from the Board of Regents at Blancbourg and then has to fire off a series of emails. So far away, it’s easy to forget that she runs a school.
All too soon, we have to get ready for the wedding. Per my brother’s request, I wear a button-down shirt and dress pants.
Cateline emerges from the hotel bathroom wearing the red dress I picked up off her floor and dangly earrings. As usual, her hair is in a bun. I miss mine.
“You look dazzling,” I whisper.
“And you look underdressed for a wedding.”
“When I suggested you wear that, I wasn’t thinking about the dress code for Cain’s big day.”
“Then I’m overdressed.”
“No, you’re perfect.” I take her hand, lift it overhead, and spin her in a circle, checking her out.
“But I can’t outshine the bride.”
“You can in my eyes.”
“Oh, stop. Your wolfish lines don’t work on me.”
“Lines? Just speaking the truth.”
“And just how long will you be able to pull that off?”
“My, my, someone is prickly today.”
She lets out a short breath. “It’s just, things at Blancbourg aren’t good.” I’ll never get tired of hearing her voice say words like that or simple ones like hello.
Wolfe on Cateline’s lips is my favorite.
“I’m here to listen if you need to rant.”
She waves off my offer and finishes getting ready.
We go to the Jeep and I help her in, inhaling her lavender scent. I hold my breath until I get behind the wheel, if only so I can sustain myself until I inhale again.
“We’ll have to play a game,” she says.
“Football?”
“No. A we-don’t-despise-each-other game.”
“We don’t despise each other. And I thought you didn’t play games.”
“I don’t, but we’re posing as an engaged couple.”
“I know you tell yourself you hate me, but you don’t.”
Cat doesn’t refute my statement, so I add, “If we’re going to pretend anything, it’s that we’re not falling for each other.” Leave it to a guy like me to speak plainly.
I gauge her response and glimpse the tips of a smile at the corners of her mouth as she turns to the window, because if anything, we’re both falling. Hard and fast.
We pull up to the recreation center and follow the balloons around to the back. A pile of broken chairs sits in a heap and a rusty wagon bars part of the cracked sidewalk.
“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Cat asks.
“Do yourself a favor and lower your expectations. This is Cain we’re talking about.”
“Surely his wife-to-be has a say in the ceremony and reception.”
“Again, this is Cain we’re talking about.”
Cateline grimaces.
We take our seats and the bridal march comes out of a pair of tinny speakers.
If I didn’t know better, Lizabeth is being held at gunpoint as she walks down the aisle.
The ceremony is short as they make their vows.
But at the end, my brother and his bride smile and kiss.
Cheering along with the rest of the guests, for the first time in my life, I don’t see pure evil in my brother’s eyes when he looks at his wife.
Instead, I see light. Surprising. Strange.
There’s a buffet with good BBQ—apparently, Lizabeth’s father owns a smokehouse. Now, I see the lure for my brother.
Before we dig in, I call for a toast to the bride and groom.
I’ve fantasized in my mind about a moment of reckoning with Cain a million times. I’d tell him how much he hurt me. How brutal he’d been. How I hate him. Maybe it would come to blows. That might even feel good—to have it out.
Instead, I take the high road.
I make the toast short and as sweet as shoofly pie, wishing them both well and not saying anything that’ll rile up Cain.
If things were different between us, I’d joke, maybe play a slideshow, and a prank or two. But the best I can do is tell them that I hope they have a long and happy marriage.
Everyone claps and cheers.
Cain nods at me when I sit down and I have the fleeting thought that perhaps, after this, he’ll settle down and everything between us will be water under the bridge.
After the meal, the new couple has their first dance before everyone joins them on the makeshift floor. Streamers hang above and the tinny speakers play an upbeat pop song that everyone knows the words to.
To my shock, including Cat.
She pumps her arms like a chicken and moves from side to side like she’s done this dance before. I can’t help but smirk, which turns into a genuine smile before she pulls me alongside her and shows me the moves.
When the song changes, we slow dance like we did last night. When it shifts again, we follow suit, moving with the beat. We smile and laugh. The rest of the room fades and it’s just us. This could be our special day.
When we stop to get something to drink, Cateline whispers, “You are a terrible date.”
I balk. “How so?”
Her smile is secretive.
I counter, “You are a terrible liar. On the contrary, you think I’m the perfect date.”
“No. Definitely not.” She looks away as if to hide her grin.
“Okay, describe your perfect man.”
“Why? Are you doing a survey? Writing an article? Want to learn how to behave? In case it slipped your mind, as the headmistress at Blancbourg, I’m an expert at helping people become the perfect gentlemen.”
“And how have I fallen short?”
She shifts from foot to foot.
I step into her space and graze my hand over her shoulder and down her arm before taking her hand in mine and kissing it. “Cateline, this might be news to you, but I don’t like perfect. I like real, even flaws. Bedhead, rosy cheeks from exertion, morning breath.”
“Are you saying I had morning breath?”
“No. I liked watching you sleep. You were as peaceful and sweet as a kitten.”
She discreetly breathes into her free hand.
I tip her chin up so she’s looking at me. “I like that tooth right there that’s a little crooked and the way your eye sometimes twitches.”
“I’m not sure whether to be insulted or infuriated.”
“How about flattered.”
She shakes her head, but that doesn’t shake the smile off her lips, which are perfect, for the record. “You’d be a terrible husband.”
“We’re engaged. You’re wearing a ring. Should we test that theory?”
“By getting married?”
I pause a beat as the words and their meaning catch up to both of us.
“I’d rather do it in a church,” we both say at the same time.
Cateline goes quiet as if not expecting me to say that. Then she says, “Actually, I have a proposal.”
I tug her close to me. “No, Cat. I’ll be doing the proposing. I’m a man. Traditional.”
“I mean, we could get married. It would help me with my green card. It might appease your coach and commissioner.”
“That’s an idea...” And not reasons I want to hear.
“You don’t want to marry me.” She pouts.
“Not for pretend.”
She bites her lip. “Let’s see how the next few days go and think about it.”
“We could, but so you don’t have to hold your breath and wait, the answer is yes, I’d marry you so you could get your green card.
” I was hoping to marry her for more virtuous reasons, but I’ll also do a solid and help the woman out.
The wolf in me agrees that’s the smart approach.
Forget vows and all that. Pfft. That’s for guys who’re ready to settle down. Apparently, guys like my brother.
A man with more missing teeth than Cain asks Cat to dance.
Like a baboon pounding its chest, I want to claim my territory. Once upon a time, I made myself into a sovereign nation, independent, but would it be so bad to have a visitor to my shores? Maybe I want to be loved for more than my looks and football.
Maybe I want to marry Cateline for real.