Chapter 44
Carla
Cath gives her sister one last squeeze and disappears inside the chapel; the big door swings shut behind her, cutting off the murmur of voices from within.
Then it’s just the two of us on the stone step.
“Okay,” I say. “It’s time to put your veil on.”
“I’m so excited.” Robyn gives a little bounce. I’m shocked at how relaxed she is.
She bows her head, and I lift the comb into the pinned crown of her hair, working it in the way Yvette showed me earlier, until it holds. I arrange the fall of it over her shoulders and step back to check my work. The lace catches the light. She looks like she stepped out of a bridal magazine.
“That’s perfect,” I tell her, and hand over the simple bouquet of white roses.
Robyn wraps both hands around the stems and pulls in a slow breath through her nose.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
She looks up at me, and her eyes are clear and steady and shining all at once.
“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”
I swallow thickly and nod. I’m going to cry before we even get through the door.
I squeeze her hand, and then she takes my elbow, tucking herself against my side as we’ve practiced, and we walk to the entrance of the chapel together.
I knock once, and someone from inside opens the doors.
I’m pretty sure I’m more nervous than she is, which is laughable considering I’m not even the bride.
I suck in a deep breath.
I can do this.
The music starts, the first sweet notes of the string piece Robyn chose rolling out to meet us, and inside the chapel everyone rises to their feet in one rustling wave, every face turning back toward the door. Toward us.
Oh, my gosh!
I fill my lungs, count the intro the way we rehearsed, and at exactly the right bar, we step forward.
Slowly, I remind myself. Slow-ly. One foot, pause, next foot. Stick to the beat of this beautiful music and do not, under any circumstances, speed-walk your best friend down the aisle.
Oh, and smile. Smmmiiillleee!
The chapel is glowing. Flowers on the end of every pew, candles up front, sunlight pours through the tall windows, turning the whole place golden. I register it in pieces, because most of my attention is on keeping time and keeping Robyn’s arm steady in mine.
Then I look up the aisle, and there’s Ridge.
He’s standing at the front, hands folded, and the second he sees Robyn, his whole face crumples and rebuilds itself around the biggest, wobbliest smile I have ever seen on a grown male.
He presses his lips together. His chin is doing something.
He is trying so hard not to cry, and he is losing, and just like that my own eyes flood.
Holy crap!
No. No, no, no. Not yet. Yvette’s mascara promises are about to be tested, and we haven’t even reached the front.
I blink fast, and that’s when I spot Magma, standing at Ridge’s shoulder.
I stop breathing for a few beats.
He’s in a gray suit. He looks insanely good. His shoulders are wide, his arms and thighs thick. His tie and his pocket square are in the same green as my dress. His eyes pop. He is smiling, and his dimple is front and center.
We almost look like we’re together. I have to remind myself that Flint has the same-colored tie and square, and that Cath is also in the same shade of green. We’re a bridal party.
I drag my eyes off him and pin them on the minister instead, which is far safer for me. I take a deep breath.
We reach the front as the music fades.
I turn to Robyn, lift her hand from my elbow, and place it in Ridge’s waiting one. His fingers close around hers like he’s been waiting his whole life to do exactly that. Then he leans over and kisses my cheek, quick and warm.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
He straightens, takes both of Robyn’s hands in his, and mouths, “You look beautiful.”
My heart can’t take it.
It can’t!
Ridge wipes his eyes, laughing at himself while he does it, and half the chapel laughs with him.
I can’t!
The two of them.
I take my place on the bride’s side, next to Cath, who has a tissue pressed under one eye and is doing an absolutely terrible job of not crying. She grabs my hand, squeezes it, and does not let go.
Just looking at her makes me tear up again.
Crap!
No!
I put all of my attention on the minister, or I will end up bawling my eyes out.
The minister looks out over the room, and everyone quietens down.
“You may take your seats,” the minister says, and everyone does as he asks.
“Dearly beloved,” he begins, his voice carrying easily through the chapel, “we are here today to witness something rare. Two people who found each other and had the good sense not to let go. On behalf of Ridge and Robyn, welcome to all of you, human and shifter alike, family by blood and family by choice. Today, in front of everyone they love, these two join their lives together.”
Family by choice. That’s me. I’m the family by choice, and I’m already dabbing under my eyes with the side of my finger.
The ceremony moves like a dream: the readings, the minister’s short and gently funny remarks about how Ridge asked his friends for advice three times before proposing, the ripple of laughter through the pews. I hold on to Cath’s hand and watch my best friend glow.
Then the minister closes his book over his thumb.
“Now the formalities,” he says. “Is there anyone present who has knowledge of any lawful impediment why these two should not be married? If so, let them speak now.” He pauses, looking around the chapel.
Robyn clutches her chest and huffs out a heavy breath, and everyone laughs. It quickly dies down.
“Ridge. Do you take Robyn to be your wife and mate, to love her, honor her, and stand beside her, in joy and in hardship, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.” Not a flicker of doubt. It comes out rough and certain, and Robyn’s shoulders rise on a happy little breath.
“Robyn. Do you take Ridge to be your husband and mate, to love him, honor him, and stand beside him, in joy and in hardship, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.” Her voice cracks, and she laughs at herself, and so does everyone else.
“The couple has chosen to speak their own vows,” the minister says, and steps back a little.
Ridge goes first. He holds both her hands and looks at her like the rest of us aren’t even here.
“My darling Robyn. I spent a lot of years thinking I was fine on my own. Then you walked into that bar and flipped everything on its head.” He stops, swallows.
“You’re my best friend. You’re the smartest, kindest, most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt for one second how loved you are.
I trust you with everything I am. I choose you.
Today and every day after. I love you with all of my heart and soul, and words will never be enough.
So I promise to show you in every way possible how much you mean to me always and forever. ” His voice hitches a little.
Cath is fully crying next to me, quiet, shoulders trembling, and I’m one wrong blink behind her.
Robyn pulls in air, steadies herself, and lifts her chin.
“Ridge, my heart, my love. I used to think soulmates were something out of the romance novels I read. Then I met you, and you were patient with me, and you made me laugh, and you loved me exactly as I am, and I realized the books had it right all along.” Her voice wavers, and she pushes through it.
“You are my soulmate. My love, my safe place, my best friend. I choose you too. Today, tomorrow, and for the rest of our lives.” By the end, it is clear that she is crying but holding her own.
That does it; a tear trickles down my cheek, and I wipe it away.
I hate sappy shit.
I hate it.
“Such wonderful words. The rings, please,” the minister says.
Magma steps forward and produces them from his breast pocket, two gold bands in his big palm, and for one second, his eyes come to me over Ridge’s shoulder before he hands them across. My face goes warm. I look down at the rings.
“Ridge, place the ring on Robyn’s finger and repeat after me. With this ring, I give you my heart, my loyalty, and my life.”
“With this ring, I give you my heart, my loyalty, and my life.” He slides the band onto her finger with careful hands that are a little unsteady.
“Robyn.”
“With this ring, I give you my heart, my loyalty, and my life.” She has to try twice to get his over the knuckle, whispers, “big hands,” and Ridge grins through his tears.
The minister spreads his arms.
“Then by the power vested in me, and in front of these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He beams at Ridge. “You may kiss your bride.”
Ridge doesn’t need telling twice; he lifts her veil.
Then he hauls Robyn in, dips her right there in front of the altar, and kisses her like there’s no tomorrow, one hand splayed across her back, her bouquet flung out sideways, and the chapel goes absolutely nuts.
Cheering, whistling, stamping, someone in the back howling like an actual wolf.
Cath is sobbing and clapping at the same time.
I can’t hold back the smile splitting my face in two, even while tears run right past it, because that’s my girl, married and dipped and kissed within an inch of her life.
When I finally look away from them, I look straight at Magma.
He’s already looking at me.
He’s clapping along with everyone else, but the second our eyes meet, his expression changes, the polished best man front dropping away into something softer and more serious. My stupid heart stutters.
He mouths, “Hello.”
I mouth back, “Hi.”
The corner of his mouth lifts, and then the music swells, and Ridge and Robyn are being ushered up to the small table at the side to sign the register, laughing, wiping each other’s faces, and the whole front of the chapel dissolves into hugs and handshakes and noise.
Flint reaches me first, arms already open.
“Hi, Carla. That was some wedding.” He wraps me up and lifts me half off my feet. “Green suits you, by the way. You look great.”
“Thank you,” I say into his shoulder, laughing. “You’re looking good yourself. I like your hair shorter. It suits you. How long are you here?”
“I fly back tomorrow.” He puts me down, grinning, and steps aside, and then Magma is there.
“Hey, Carla.” That deep baritone does things to me.
“Hi.” I go up on my toes and hug him.
His arms come around me. I hug him close, and of course he smells so darned good. So, so, so good. He’s big and warm and solid.
Let go, Carla.
Let. Go!
I make my arms release him and step back, smiling. “You did good with the rings. Very smooth.”
“I only had one job.”
“Over here, Magma,” Flint says, waving him over.
“I’ll see you outside?” He lifts his brows, those gorgeous eyes on me.
I nod.
“Carla.”
I turn, and Malachite is right there, tall and blond and beaming in a charcoal suit, and he folds me into a tight hug before I can say a word.
He hugs me tightly, putting his face in the crook of my neck. “You smell great.”
“Oh…um…thanks.”
“You look so beautiful,” he says against my hair. “When I saw you come down the aisle, I might have forgotten my name for a few seconds…and how to breathe.”
He’s so sweet.
“Thank you.” I pull back and take him in properly. “You look really good too.”
He ducks his head, pleased, and that’s when I glance over at Magma.
Brook is standing to the side waiting for him while he is busy with Robyn, Ridge, and Flint.
My stomach drops straight through the chapel floor because, of course, she’s gorgeous. I knew she’d be gorgeous. I was not prepared for this.
She’s wearing a little golden dress that glitters when she moves, short enough to showcase legs that go on forever, with a completely open back that puts her pretty red-inked tattoos on full display.
She is very clearly not wearing a bra, but she does not need one at all.
Her perky little assets need no help at all.
They’re just there. Most women couldn’t pull off that dress. Brook is not most women.
I can tell from the way she is looking at him that she’s into him. I can’t blame her.
Magma finishes up with Ridge and Robyn. He hugs each of them in turn, and Brook takes a few steps toward them, still waiting.
“They make a great couple,” Malachite says, following my line of vision.
“They do.” Only I’m not looking at Ridge and Robyn, and my heart is dropping even further.
Magma turns to Brook, his eyes brightening. They hug, her arms going around his neck, gold sparkling against his gray suit.
I look away.
I take Malachite’s arm and steer us both toward the doors. “Let’s go outside. We need to get some rose petals to throw at the bride and groom when they come outside in a few minutes.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He nods and takes my hand in his, warm and easy, and threads us through the crowd. “I hope you like dancing?” he asks.
“I do indeed.”
Why am I in love with Magma? Why did I let myself fall for him? How did it even happen?
I walk out into the sunshine, and I do not look back at Brook and Magma. Not once. I keep my eyes forward and my chin up.
I’m going to have a good time tonight. Malachite is sweet and funny. I like him. It isn’t like that for me when it comes to him. I did warn him about that…but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a whole lot of fun.
And I am definitely, absolutely not going to let myself get jealous of a certain pretty Red shifter.
This is Robyn’s big day.
Nothing else matters.