Chapter 8
Eight
Carter
River shifts toward me in the backseat, biting down on her bottom lip. Her hair is still damp from the shower, and she has no makeup on at all, yet she’s never looked more gorgeous. She sets her purse in her lap, then plucks out her phone.
“Carter, I have something to tell you . . .”
“What?”
“Well, maybe it’s better if I show you.”
Her thumb hovers over the screen. She hesitates for a second, looking up at me, then presses play.
I catch her watching me in my periphery as I watch the video . . . woah. Did . . . did I thrust into her?
Fuck me. That was hot.
When the video ends, she swipes to the next video.
When I hear, “Carter Graham, will you marry me?”, I feel my eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. The crowd whoops and hollers, as I spin her around, pumping my fist into the air and yelling something that sounded like, “Hell, yes.”
Another swipe . . .
“Where’s Alice?” River slurs, then hiccups. “Has anyone seen Alice?”
“With the Mad Hatter,” I respond, barely articulating my words. “Painting roses red and . . . and . . . fuck, I’m drunk.”
When the screen goes black, River slides the little white line at the bottom forward until we come into focus again.
God, I look completely tanked, and she looks no better.
River stumbles toward me with a bouquet of black roses in her hand as an Alice Cooper impersonator sings some rock song I can’t make out.
She tosses back a black veil in frustration as it clings to her face, stumbling in the process.
The video plays on with us saying our vows, and after the kiss, she swipes out of the app and tosses her phone back into her purse, looking everywhere but at me.
A laugh starts deep in my chest and rushes out of my mouth. My head tilts back against the seat. Then, she starts laughing too, and relief settles in.
“Oh, Thank God.” I let out a long heavy exhale. “You have no idea how convinced I was that I played the villain here. I thought I had pressured you into this. Plot twist, this entire time I was completely innocent.”
She snorts. “Well, I don’t know about completely innocent . . . you stripped off your shirt in the middle of Fremont Street and danced on a pole.”
“Where’s that video? You know what? Never mind . . . I’m sure that was all your idea too,” I tease.
Her eyes roll as she says, “It was on the bingo card. That’s the last thing I wanted to see out of you.”
Lies. All lies.
“Tell me the truth, Kitten . . . that’s why you married me, isn’t it? You saw my moves and thought, ‘Oooh, I want that forever’.” I give her a wink, and laughter flies from her mouth.
I want to make her laugh like this every day, bottle up that sound, and listen to it play on repeat. Light shines through the window and catches her brown eyes, turning them an amber color.
Grinning, she shakes her head. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’ve been chasing your ass for over a year and all it took was me taking off my shirt and grinding on a pole to for you to say, ‘I do’. That’s shallow, River. Real. Fucking. Shallow.”
She laughs harder, wiping tears from the corner of her eyes. “I had to see what you were made of first.”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve seen what I’m made of every time I’ve rotated my hips during warmups. Don’t lie. I’ve caught you watching.” I wink.
Her laughter trails off, but she doesn’t stop smiling, and she doesn’t deny what I already know to be true.
Cal’s been downstairs, squaring some things away with the vendors, while the other guys, who should’ve already been here, remain MIA.
Fuckers. The choppers will be here in a few hours to charter us all to The Valley of Fire for the ceremony, then we’ll come back here for the reception, but I went ahead and put on my tux in case I get caught up in best-man duties.
Taking a seat in the groom’s suite, I wait for Cal to return.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees, staring at the ring on my finger.
I can’t help but think this is how River’s wedding should’ve been.
The flowers, the venue, the wedding dress .
. . hell, even the groom she wanted. Her dad to walk her down the aisle to whatever song she picked instead of her walking herself to some random rock song. She’s better than that.
Someone sits down in front of me—akin to how I’m sitting—and stares. I know he’s staring because I can feel his eyes boring into my skull, though I haven’t lifted mine to find out who it is yet. I’m too lost in thought to care.
He bends down a little further, his face coming into full view as he holds my eyes hostage.
And instantly, I know I’m looking into the eyes of River’s father.
Other than the difference in hair color, she looks like him.
Same features, same brown eyes. Straightening up, I lift my head, then hold out a hand to shake his.
“Carter Graham, sir.”
He continues to stare . . . no, more like glare at me, disregarding the gesture. Slowly, I lower my hand. To be honest, I’d be pissed off too if I had a daughter and someone married her without having the decency to even have a conversation with me beforehand. Can’t blame the man for being angry.
“You know, I find it odd that my daughter’s never mentioned you.” He pulls a flask from his suit pocket and gives me a silent offer. I find the gesture confusing, given he just shrugged off my greeting. I shake my head, refusing the drink.
Chuckling, he unscrews the top. “Suit yourself.”
He tilts the steel container back, taking a swig. “The groom has good taste. Great Scotch. You really should try it.” He smacks his lips together, holding the flask out again, this time, shaking it in my direction.
“No, thank you, sir.”
“You know who else has good taste?” he asks.
He’s taunting me. Toying with me like a cat does a mouse—batting and pawing. I can tell by the gleam in his eyes he’s ready to pounce. If he has something on his mind, I wish he’d spit it out, but I keep my mouth shut. Being a smart ass won’t do me any favors here.
“Well, obviously you do. You married my daughter. She’s my pride and joy, and in my eyes, she’s damn near perfect.
” He takes another drink, then twists the cap back on before stuffing the flask into the inside pocket of his blazer.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume that since my River felt comfortable enough to marry you, that she’s also filled you in on her history. ”
He raises an eyebrow, and I swallow the knot in my throat, still staying silent. I don’t want to lie to River’s father by saying yes. His eyes narrow in my direction as he studies me. Now I see where River gets that look.
“I respect her, sir.”
He needs to know that, because after last night, I know he’s talking about what someone did to her, and I would never hurt her.
“You respect her . . .” He shakes his head with a mocking chuckle. “The last one claimed to love her, and now the fucker walks with a limp. Want to take any guesses as to why?”
I can guess why. I’ve pieced together what might’ve happened to her based on some of River’s mannerisms resembling my sister’s, and when I find out who that motherfucker is, I might just finish the job myself . . . but still, I continue to keep my mouth shut, allowing her father to say his piece.
“Let that little tidbit of information be a reminder that if you so much as hurt a hair on her head, you won’t have to worry about me killing you.
See, killing you would be too easy . . .
too quick. What I’ll do is make your life a living hell.
Not only will I torture you very slowly, I’ll shoot your kneecaps off and leave you alive.
Then I’ll watch your hopes, dreams, and your hockey career melt away. ”
He stands, gripping my shoulder, clasping it tightly, before leaning down next to my ear. “And I’ll do it with a smile.” Then, he slaps me on the back hard enough to make my teeth rattle. “Good talk . . . son.”
Cal rounds the doorway. Nice timing, dick. Couldn’t you have shown up five minutes ago?
His eyes volley back and forth between us. “Oh, good. You’ve met your new father-in-law,” he says, grinning.
Cheeky fucker. Yeah, I’ve met him alright.
“We had a good talk, didn’t we, boy?” He fucking winks.
“Yeah. It was nice meeting you,” I say.
A lady comes into the room. “Rhett, I told you not to terrorize the poor man.”
Rhett gives Cal a couple of love pats on his shoulder. “The good thing about us being divorced is she can’t tell me what to do anymore,” he says as he leaves the room, tossing her a wink.
The lady I assume is River’s mom gives him a flirtatious look and laughs as she walks over to me. I stand to greet her.
“You must be Carter. I’m Marcy, River’s mom. Don’t mind him, he’s always had a stick up his ass,” she teases.
I laugh as she gives me a hug. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too, sweetie. Just . . .”
She cast her eyes to the side before peering back up at me. “You know what? I think you’ve heard enough out of that one.” She hikes a thumb at River’s dad, then continues. “Welcome to the family.”
She gives me one more hug, then places a cool hand on my cheek before turning and walking out the door.
“By your facial expression when I walked in, I’m guessing the chat with Rhett didn’t go over well?” Cal asks, looking at me through the mirror as he adjusts his tie and fixes his hair.
“Nope.”
As much as I hated the way he treated me, I get why he’s so protective of his daughter. I’m sure if one day I have a daughter, I’ll be as protective.
Tucker comes strutting through the door, then plops down in a chair next to mine. “Heard you’re my uncle now.”
My brows shoot up, and I run a hand through my hair. “Man, news travels fast.”
“Ol’ Uncle Carter . . . gotta say, you must have a way with the ladies because I never saw that comin’. Guess you do got that rizz.”
“If he had rizz,” Cal counters, “He would’ve been able to lock that down a year ago; it’s called bad decisions, son.”
“Some may call it bad decisions, but I call it liquid courage,” I say.
Speaking of . . . I need a fuckin’ drink after that run in with Rhett. Standing to my feet, I saunter over to the decanter, uncap the glass container, and pour two fingers of scotch into a glass. I toss the amber liquid back, enjoying the burn as it travels down my throat.
I lift my second glass toward him. “By the way, whose grand idea was it for everyone to take a shot after we finished each task?”
“Only the person who completed the task had to take a shot.”
“Yeah, that’s not what you said.”
“That’s what I meant.”
I chuckle, letting out a sigh. “Next time, make your rules very clear, dude. You said everyone take a shot.”
“It worked in your favor, so stop your bitchin’ about it.” He laughs.
I don’t know how much it worked in my favor. I guess we’ll find out when she moves in.