Wedding #2
Scratch that, I think to myself as a black-haired woman sneaks in and takes a seat in the back row. She’s close enough to Gabriel that he glances her way, and I swear I see him nod his head like he knows her.
Larkin follows my gaze and makes a low sound in his throat. “She’s sort of terrifying,” he murmurs in my ear. “You know her? Or is she with the therapist?”
“Not with the therapist,” I breathe. “Though I am surprised to see her here, maybe? That’s Kat.
She was friends with Virgil and Wren before Cass and I were really part of the group.
” Something in me flutters with anxiety—like a long dormant instinct to sense danger that my ancestors relied on to avoid predators.
“I don’t know that much about her,” I admit quietly. “Other than she has a brother out in California who almost went to jail over some guy.” As if the idea of going to jail for a man is truly the worst thing I can ever imagine.
As if she can hear me, Kat glances my way.
Her blood-red lipstick makes it impossible to ignore her full mouth, though it isn’t garish against her complexion.
She screams sophistication and predator in a way that makes me drop my gaze as if I’ve been burned.
“She’s always nice every time we’ve talked,” I whisper.
“But past that?” I shrug. “I know Virgil is a little afraid of her, and that’s saying something. ”
From the corner of my eye, I can see Larkin studying her. He slips into that other mode so quickly that it should be scary. Here, it only makes me curl my fingers more tightly with his. He’s not stupid after all.
Kat would kill him. Probably eat him, too, if the stories about her are true. Though after her killing spree of some band that tried to kill her in the woods, she’s calmed down quite a bit. At least, according to what I’ve heard from Cassian.
Really, good for her. She might terrify me, but she deserved her revenge in that situation. Though to me, eating strips of their skin seemed like overkill.
But what do I know? I’m just a trauma case, not a cannibal.
The music shifting drags me out of my thoughts and ends any further conversation Larkin and I might have had about the guests we don’t know. Everyone straightens in their chairs, and a low murmuring sweeps through the modest crowd before dying out completely.
Somehow, the wedding ends up being exactly what I would expect of Wren.
With our friends as his groomsmen, he waits at the end of the aisle with the biggest grin on his face that I’ve ever seen.
Virgil—his best man—and Sloane in her gorgeous sage green dress walk down the aisle first. Jed and Saylor come next, and finally, Winnie and Cass bring up the rear.
At least until a little kid heads down the aisle, a cat in one arm and the rings on a pillow in the other.
From stories and pictures, I know it’s Scott—Winnie’s nephew.
The pillow with the rings tied on bounces in his hand as he keeps the adorable cat, who must be New Wren, comfortable in his other arm.
While I can’t help my tiny grin at the unconventional sight, I also can’t help thinking about how much I never, ever want kids.
Especially when Scott turns to who must be his mother in frustration and gestures at the writhing, excited cat like he’s in an impossible situation.
Winnie whispers at him and holds out her hand, which causes the kid to brighten as he lunges forward to latch onto her hand. She quickly shifts her bouquet to the other hand, and New Wren is scooped up by Sloane.
When the music changes again, everyone stands. I swear I can see Wren vibrating with anticipation, and he clasps his hands in front of him, grin widening as both barn doors are pushed open to admit both sunlight and Hazel.
She’s gorgeous.
My fingers tighten around Larkin’s as I look at the way the blonde girl beams with happiness.
The flowers in her hands flow like a waterfall in front of her, and the dress she’s wearing has to be one of the prettiest I’ve ever seen.
The straps accentuate her small shoulders, the plunging neckline is decorated with lace, while the designs across the bodice and skirt feel like ivy and indistinct florals.
Hazel’s hair is up in a braided bun, with a few wisps pulled down to frame her face. As she passes our row, I can see a touch of anxiety on her face that’s tempered by her excitement. She never looks at us. Never turns away from Wren as he waits for her at the altar.
My heart twists and knots with something like envy, though I only step closer to Larkin, resting my head against his shoulder as he reaches up to twine his fingers through my hair. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs against my temple, kissing my hair. “I’ve always got you, sweetheart.”
When she reaches him, Wren reaches out a hand, looking impossibly awestruck by his soon to be wife.
His smile never fades, but the depth of love in his eyes is so apparent that I’d be surprised if anyone here doubted how he feels about her.
Or how she feels about him. Especially as she unconsciously leans into him, like the two of them orbit each other without even realizing it.
The ceremony isn’t long, but I hadn’t expected it to be. Their officiant doesn’t ramble or take longer than he needs to, and by the time I’ve studied the gorgeous swirls and patterns in the lace overlay of Hazel’s dress, they’re exchanging vows and rings.
Applause thunders in my ears when they’re presented as a couple, and my hands lift to clap as well. This kind of show isn’t my thing, but for my oldest, best friends, I will absolutely push past my usual comfort zone to be a part of this day for them.
They’re so happy, I realize, as they beam at each other before walking up the aisle as a married couple for the first time.
Could Larkin and I be this happy?
Our relationship isn’t built on the same thing as theirs. He never saved me like Wren did Hazel. We’ve always fought and clawed for everything, like two predators sharing the same territory rather than a hunter and his prey.
But somehow, that feels right. I love what Hazel has—I love what all of my friends have found. But with a certainty that only grows as I get to my feet to follow the small crowd into the reception space of the barn, I realize something just as important.
What Larkin and I have is fucking perfect. Even if it might never end in a white dress, flower petals, and us being declared legal husband and wife.
Our claims on each other run deeper than that, and being here makes me want to prove that to him. Again. Multiple times throughout the day.
I just need a moment to make that happen.
“Oh, fuck, Sierra.” Larkin pants, head thrown back as he arches into me. I drag my skirt up higher around my hips when I come, biting down on my lip while I ride out my orgasm on the bathroom counter.
“Gorgeous, perfect girl. If this is you proposing to me—”
“It’s not,” I gasp with a breathless laugh, and when he steps back, I quickly jump to the floor, though my legs are shaky enough that my boyfriend has to catch me before I fall. “Fuck, I just—” Wanted to prove I can love him without being married to him.
He doesn’t call me out on the aborted sentence.
He only helps me clean up so I look presentable before kissing me once more.
We waited until the reception was in full swing—and after Hazel and Wren’s first dance—before disappearing once I knew I’d done enough to make it clear to Larkin just what I was looking for.
The private bathroom—apparently reserved for the bride and groom—had been perfect. Even if we aren’t technically allowed in here. But as we slip back out, looking almost as polished as we had beforehand, I hope, it’s clear no one noticed.
Almost no one.
“So…” Cass’s voice drawls from beside the door, and I flinch as I turn to look at my oldest friend. “You’re Larkin.” He doesn’t even look at me. Just lets his gaze travel up my boyfriend’s body, from his shoes to his shiny black hair.
My boyfriend offers him a too-friendly grin. “You’re Cass, yeah?” he asks, sticking out a freshly washed hand toward him.
“Unfortunately. Would’ve been nice to meet you before I had to play door guard in case anyone heard you two.”
Whoops.
I have the decency to look away, but after another look from Cass, I get the message. “I’m gonna go congratulate Wren and Hazel.”
Larkin turns to me, and for the first time in probably ever, I see a hint of alarm on his features. Some part of me is definitely a little pleased that my friends make him nervous. But only because I know they won’t do anything and Larkin can be too cocky for his own good.
He’ll be fine.
Making my way through the reception room takes a few minutes longer than I expected. Virgil stops me, murmuring a few words about how long it’s been and how good I look. He assures me that Cass is the only one pulling his hair out about my ‘reclaimed hobbies’ and even congratulates me on Larkin.
Even if Virgil does threaten him like I’m his little sister with her first boyfriend. Jed is quieter, though I hug him just as fiercely as I do Wren, and I can’t help but wonder what Es would think if she could see me here. Comfortable in a way I rarely am with anyone but her and Larkin.
Plus, she knows I’m not a hugger.
“Thanks for inviting me,” I tell Wren, turning to watch Hazel as he beams at where she’s standing with a couple of friends. Judging by her hand movements and the way she keeps glancing down, I figure she’s telling them about her dress. “I miss you guys.”
“You could move back,” Wren suggests. “We’d even let you bring him.
” He glances over to where Cass is still having a hopefully friendly conversation with Larkin, who have now both emerged from the private bathroom’s alcove, and his smile grows.
“Look at him. Acting so much like your big brother over there. He frets over you.” The groom rolls his eyes at that, then adds, “But seriously. We’d love to have you back. ”