12. Jake
Jake
We were on the third bar of the crawl when Ven took her first hard drink. At dinner, she’d stuck to water, and then she’d nursed a glass of champagne at the first bar, only taking a sip when we toasted something.
After the heaviness of that conversation on the golf course, I needed a good buzz.
Warren ordered shots and put one in Ven’s hand.
She stared down at it for a moment before shrugging and tossing back the drink.
Seeing it, Yara screamed like someone had given her the best present ever and yelled for another round.
Warren and I paced ourselves, knowing it was going to be a long night. But by the fifth bar, we were all trashed.
“What if we got married by moonlight?” Yara mused, swaying with Warren to the slow tune coming from the speakers. “It would be beautiful. The island in the background, moon overhead.”
Ven snuggled closer, her head resting perfectly beneath my chin.
All afternoon, she’d been on my mind. Even when I should have been thinking of my friend, my thoughts drifted back to Ven.
To the night before and that morning. To how quickly I could get us back to a bed and how I could spend the foreseeable future inside her.
I craved her, and not just her body. Her laugh, her touch, her… calmness.
“That sounds magical,” Ven murmured.
“I have a friend with a yacht docked at one of the smaller islands,” I mentioned, draining my drink.
Yara was full of ideas when she was drunk, and I was usually the one who put up roadblocks to make sure she stayed out of trouble.
But this was her weekend, and I was ready to do whatever made her happy.
“Claude tells me all the time I can use it wherever I want. One phone call and I can make it happen, little sis.”
“Aren’t captains able to marry people?” Warren frowned. He wasn’t as drunk as me yet, and I could tell he was considering it. The longer I thought about it, the better the idea sounded.
“That’s a myth,” Ven answered with a cute little hiccup. “It’s more of a symbolic thing. You need an actual officiant of some kind to make it legally binding.”
“So we get an officiant to officiate,” Yara said, sounding more sober than I’d heard her in a while. “We have one scheduled for tomorrow. How hard would it be to get them to come out tonight? Promise them triple or something. I don’t care.”
Phone already out, I texted Claude, who was in Mexico. Less than ten seconds later, he responded, letting me know he was alerting the captain to expect us.
“Bonus, his captain is an officiant,” I announced, reading the next text from my old college buddy. “He’s the one who married Claude and his wife, Tracy. They’ve been together for fifteen years, married for seven.”
“Why didn’t you offer this as an option before now?” Yara grumbled, tossing back another shot.
“Because you were all about a sunset wedding, Yar,” I soothed. “And the whole point of this little elopement of yours was because you were upset that everyone was trying to take over your wedding. I wasn’t stupid enough to attempt to make any suggestions.”
“Fair enough. But now, I want a moonlight wedding. Tonight.” She grabbed Ven’s hand. “I’m getting married!”
“You’re getting married!” Ven squealed, hugging her.
Around us, the other patrons laughed, offering well-wishes to Warren while the girls continued to bounce around. After another round of shots, we left, a driver already waiting on us.
An hour later, following a stop at the hotel for Yara’s dress, we stood on the yacht deck, the captain in front of Yara and Warren as the two of them exchanged their rings.
Above us, the crescent moon glowed as waves crashed melodically against the boat.
With the tropical breeze blowing lightly, the air felt as magical as Ven predicted it would be.
Watching my baby sister become my best friend’s wife, seeing how happy they both were together, I felt a lump fill my throat.
Not everything was perfect for them. They still had obstacles in their path that were going to take time to clear, but they could do it together.
When the captain pronounced them husband and wife, something shifted inside me. I wanted this with Ven. Her as my wife, my life partner. Very, very soon. Just not too soon, so I didn’t freak her out over all the baggage that came with me.
Warren pulled Yara close, then dipped her back, causing her to giggle.
She cupped the side of his face, her smile so bright it outshined the moon glowing down on us.
In that moment, I was confident that my little sister was going to be just fine.
No matter what the future held, Warren would take care of her.
“Hello, husband.”
“Hello, wife,” he rasped and kissed her.
When I turned my head from the sight, my breath caught at how beautiful Ven looked. Her hair was down, the ends curled, her eyes brimming with tears for the happy couple.
“Champagne, anyone?” the first mate offered, stepping forward with a tray of glasses for everyone.
The newlyweds came up for air, and I grabbed a glass for Ven and myself.
I needed more alcohol to get rid of the thoughts in my head.
Marrying Ven too soon was a stupid idea.
She wasn’t ready for the chaos that would come with being my wife.
I needed to prepare her for what being a Wilson would be like.
The constant spotlight and intrusiveness of not just the media, but my mother as well.
No, I told myself, swallowing another glassful of champagne without tasting it. I had to be patient and ease Ven into my life so I didn’t scare her away or overwhelm her with my family.
Music began to play. Claude had a full staff on each of his yachts, and although this was the smallest one, it didn’t lack amenities.
The chef had started cooking as soon as Claude had alerted the captain to expect us.
There was even a cake. It wasn’t white, but Yara didn’t appear to mind as she and Warren cut it.
He fed her a bite, and she smiled at him with her whole heart in her eyes.
“I think this is my favorite wedding,” Ven commented, taking a forkful of cake from my plate.
As she chewed, her gaze was on the bride.
“Every other one I’ve been to always felt like such a big show, like they were making some kind of statement.
I’m not saying it was a bad statement, just that it was… I don’t know, loud, maybe.”
She had a smear of icing on her bottom lip. After wiping it away with my thumb, I licked it clean. Ven’s blue-gray orbs darkened as she watched. At the base of her throat, her heartbeat began to flutter visibly.
Clearing her throat, she took a big drink of her champagne. “I never imagined my own wedding, but I think I would want something like this. Small, intimate. Just a handful of people.”
“I can definitely work with that,” I agreed.
Her eyes widened, not mistaking what I was saying in the least. Quickly, her surprise shifted into something else, her smile turning thoughtful. “This morning, you were all grumpy over what I told my mom. Now, you’re alluding to a future wedding. Jacob Wilson, do you like me?”
“So fucking much.” Grasping her elbow, I tugged her closer, even though she was only a few inches away.
“If your definition of ‘like’ is that my heart is no longer mine. At this point, it doesn’t even live inside my body, little bunny.
You stole it right out of my chest the first time you smiled at me. ”