Chapter 13 Bennett
BENNETT
Ihadn’t spent a lot of time imagining my wedding day, but in those moments when I’d contemplated it—back when I was still dating Lily—I definitely didn’t see this: a tiny group of our closest (and very confused) friends and family settling into the white church on Main Street …
and multiple camerapeople pressing lenses inches from our faces.
It had been a whirlwind few days, getting a marriage license, letting our families know there’d been a significant change in plans, and working with Wild on a new contract that had my name on it and not Greg’s.
We had Jules handle that one, and he said they didn’t question it as much as he thought they would. Small miracles.
I spent the day before our wedding out at sea, doing an excursion for a family with four teenagers.
They spanned the attitude spectrum from excited to surly, and it made me think of my own family—the four of us always there for each other.
We had to be. We’d lost a lot, but I never questioned how lucky I was to have those three in my corner at all times.
Each of the teens caught a fish, and by the time we made it back to shore, everyone wore an exhausted smile.
The parents were holding hands, the fine lines by their eyes crinkling as they watched their children compare fish sizes.
Longing tugged at me. I wanted this. My own family.
Children. Someone to grow wrinkles and gray hair with, and to share inside jokes and wordless conversations.
I shuffled my feet as I waited for Charlie to walk through the church’s double doors and come down the aisle on her mother’s arm.
My brothers, Jules and Haydn, stood next to me, their suits freshly dry-cleaned.
Rosie and Lily, as Charlie’s two bridesmaids, were standing up front as well.
Charlie didn’t want any reminders of her cancelled wedding, so their bridesmaid dresses were matching black slacks and white button-up shirts.
Rosie complained that they looked like servers, but it was the only matching outfit she and Lily had.
Lily and I were doing a good job of not making eye contact, something we’d perfected over the last couple of years, but she and Charlie were close. Lily hadn’t even tried to talk Charlie out of marrying me, which was a relief, but it stung as well.
In the front row, Charlie’s grandma was already dabbing at her eyes.
She’d taken the groom pivot remarkably well and had helped smooth the way with her enthusiasm.
I winked at her, and she waved her handkerchief at me with a happy grin.
Mrs. Mabel was there with her smug grin.
Sheriff Savage—out of uniform, something I rarely saw—and his wife.
He was glaring at me hard, so I didn’t let my gaze linger on him.
Haydn’s wife, Lia Halifax, was there—much to the joy and shock of the Wild producers.
Lia’s bodyguard had needed to step in and remind them that they were here to film me and Charlie, not her.
Dylan, Rosie’s husband (and Charlie’s cousin), had one arm flung across his mom’s shoulders, and he grinned at me.
Some people were confused that Charlie was marrying me instead of Greg. Some people were extra confused that we had a camera crew filming the entire thing. But there was an overall, pervasive feeling of relief in that chapel. No one had wanted Charlie to marry Greg.
“Ready?” Haydn straightened my tie.
“Yeah.” As ready as I could be. We were mic’d up for the cameras, so we all had to be careful what we said.
“I’m proud of you, Ben. You’re a good man.” He patted my shoulder a few times and then stood straight beside me while I tried to blink back the emotion his words had caused. Before I could fully gain my composure, the music changed, and the double doors opened.
Charlie stepped in, and I forgot how to breathe.
Her long hair was twisted into a low bun, with curls falling down around her ears and neck.
She hadn’t wanted to wear her original wedding dress, so she’d told me she was going to borrow her mom’s instead.
The white V-neck fabric clung temptingly to her curves and then flowed into a beaded, princess-like dress.
She looked grown-up. So very much a woman.
Cinderella at the ball.
She met my gaze, and her eyes widened with shock as she took me in.
I ran a hand over my chin, self-conscious.
I’d gotten my hair and beard trimmed this morning.
The barber said he didn’t recognize me when he was done.
Rosie had cried when she’d seen me, and my brothers had hugged me for so long, I was embarrassed that a haircut could cause such a reaction in people.
But I knew it was more than the haircut. It was the acknowledgment that I wasn’t going to hide anymore. That I was ready to be back in the land of the living. Charlie’s smile softened, and my nervous heart thumped harder with every step she took toward me.
Charlie Savage was going to be my wife.
Your fake wife.
This wasn’t real.
I swallowed hard at the necessary reminder.
She was stunning. Older than I somehow remembered.
And walking down the aisle toward me. But we weren’t in love.
We weren’t preparing to build a life together.
We were two boats at sea, navigating rough waters with the help of each other, and would part ways once we reached safe shores.
This wedding might be legal in every sense, but it wasn’t emotionally real.
Charlie gripped her mom’s arm. When they reached the front, Rebecca took Charlie’s face in both of her hands and studied her eyes. She kissed her daughter on the cheek, but instead of sitting down, she turned to me.
My breath caught as Rebecca took my face in her hands next.
She studied my fresh haircut, my short beard, and then my eyes.
I tensed, waiting for her disappointment, for her plea for us to rethink this.
She hadn’t been a fan of our getting married, but Charlie said she was respecting our decision.
It killed me to think we were disappointing her, but I also had no regrets about marrying Charlie, even if it didn’t make sense to everyone else.
The lines around Rebecca’s eyes smoothed out, and her thumbs brushed my cheeks lightly. She stared at me the way a mother would before graduation. “You’re a good one, Bennett,” she whispered.
I was glad I didn’t have to speak, because emotion had unexpectedly welled up in my throat. She sat down, and I realized that my brothers must have heard what she said too, because they were blinking rapidly as well.
“Welcome to the wedding of Charlotte Marie Savage and Bennett Hunter Forrester,” the pastor said with a gentle smile.
Charlie and I turned to face each other. Her expression was bittersweet, another reminder that I was the wrong groom.
“Is there anyone here who would object to this marriage?” the pastor asked.
I half-expected Greg to burst into the church and object. Charlie stared at the doors, like she expected it as well, like she hoped that he’d come through and apologize, and the wedding would be back on.
They remained shut, and we both let out matching, shuddery breaths, which in turn caused us to laugh nervously. Rosie started to giggle behind her hand, and then Rebecca was laughing too, until tears were streaming down her face and she had to rest her head on her mom’s shoulder.
“Okay, okay, sorry,” Charlie said once she managed to get her giggles under control. “Proceed.”
The pastor raised an amused brow. “Thank you.”
The mood was lighter, and as I stared into Charlie’s eyes, I felt a glimmer of excitement. This didn’t have to be so serious. I squeezed Charlie’s hands and smiled. Her return smile was dim, but genuine.
We had asked the pastor to forgo the ring exchange, since neither of us had time to purchase rings for each other.
I didn’t expect my finger to feel bare, though, as we approached the end of the ceremony.
We should have at least gotten some cheap, souvenir rings.
But that thought didn’t sit well with me either.
“You may now kiss as husband and wife,” the pastor said.
Oh, right. That part.
The cameras moved even closer.
I steeled my shoulders, ready to do what needed to be done.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved kissing. But kissing Charlie was going to be like kissing my sister.
Like two wet worms sliding past each other in the same dirt tunnel.
And all while the girl I thought I’d marry someday watched and cameras captured every awkward second for America to judge. Life was weird sometimes.
Charlie looked ready to bolt, and I couldn’t blame her. But the Wild camera crew would.
I lowered my voice. “You may now legally touch these abs whenever you want.”
She gaped at me and then smacked my stomach with the back of her hand and a quick, surprised laugh. “I swear, Bennett …”
I bent down, giving her plenty of time to back away. One of her hands went to my chest, the other dangling down at her side as our lips touched.
Blood rushed through my ears at the unexpectedly pleasant friction between our mouths. And as her fresh coconut scent hit me, every last bit of oxygen fled my brain. The room disappeared until it was only me and Charlie, time standing still within this kiss.
She quickly pulled away, her cheeks flushed. Everyone cheered and clapped. Distantly, I felt my brothers pounding on my back, shaking my shoulder, saying something to me.
I couldn’t move, frozen in place. Kissing Charlie was nothing like kissing my sister, or worms, or whatever else I’d expected. And that had been barely more than a peck.
What would a real kiss feel like?