Chapter 45 Jackson
Jackson
It’s a nice day for a wedding, with clear skies and a gentle breeze moving through the trees. The weather is mild, not hot or cold, with enough clouds to keep the outdoor ceremony comfortable.
I sit with Ethan and Reece in the front row, still buzzing from last night’s sexcapade.
Ethan and I are in black suits with deep-red ties to complement Aurora’s velvet gown.
Reece is wearing distressed jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket.
His parents haven’t shown up yet, but I’m starting to believe he dresses this way on purpose to direct his father’s attention away from his sisters—or us.
The tattoo on his head likely served as a firm warning to the pastor: Aurora is here to stay; don’t provoke me. It’s smart—cuts through all the bullshit.
I jokingly asked if he was feeling emo today, and he shot me daggers with his eyes, which is an improvement over the dull gaze he’d adopted during the rehearsal dinner. The foursome must have worked. It’s hard to be sad after coming and cuddling with three other people.
The string quartet plays as guests settle into white chairs on the pristine lawn of some well-known resort. It’s a small, intimate affair. No best man or maid of honor, no wedding party. Just a few dozen of their closest friends and family.
Harper rushes toward us, Danny trailing behind her like a little penguin in his tux.
God, I hope we have a bunch of kids—they’re so pure at heart, untainted by the world.
At dinner, I rolled up my sleeves, and he colored in my tattoos, drawing a few new ones, perfectly content doing something so simple.
“Have you seen Dad?” Harper leans in to ask Reece, her voice tight with worry.
Reece’s jaw muscles twitch. “Not since last night. Why?”
“He’s not answering his phone. Mom either.
” She glances nervously at the entranceway.
“The ceremony starts in fifteen minutes. Sades is freaking out. Aurora is trying to keep her calm with stories about how you two met.” Harper places her hands on her hips.
“You went through her phone to find all her favorite foods and books? That’s a little crazy, Reece. ”
He pinches the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. “Back to Dad… Did he stay in the city?”
She shrugs. “Supposedly.”
“Is he officiating?” I don’t see any problem with the asshole not showing.
“No.” Reece shakes his head. “Cal isn’t Baptist. Dad is walking Sadie down the aisle.”
Oh, fuck. “You can.” I gesture to him, palm up. “You’re as good, if not better.”
Harper’s eyes light up, her shoulders slumping with relief. “Yes, that’s perfect.”
He runs his fingers through his tousled fohawk. “I don’t have clothes. I can’t walk her down the aisle in this.”
“Take mine,” I offer, already loosening my uncomfortable tie.
His critical gaze rakes over my tailored suit. “Absolutely not.”
I spread my arms wide, taken aback. “Why?”
He scoffs. “Your pants are so tight, I can see the full outline of your phone in your pocket.”
“No, they’re not!” I glance down at my fitted slacks, the fabric stretching over my muscular quads. “I have hockey thighs. You’re awfully judgmental for someone with nipple piercings, you know that?”
Harper snorts and lifts Danny into her arms. “TMI, Jackson.”
Reece tips his head back and groans in frustration. “There’s no way I’ll fit into your clothes. I’m bigger and taller than you.”
All eyes shift to Ethan.
His face twists in horror. “Fuck me,” he says under his breath.
While they change, I sit alone and reflect on our time in Charleston. Did we make things worse for Reece? Did we ruin his sister’s wedding as he’d predicted? I hope not. If anything, we came together as a family—Sadie, Harper, and Danny included.
This trip brought our foursome closer, that’s for damn sure. I didn’t understand Reece before, didn’t understand how much his sisters’ happiness meant to him or how intolerant his parents are.
Movement in my periphery grabs my attention. I blink and blink again. Ethan approaches, and if it wasn’t for his confident stride, I wouldn’t recognize him.
The worn leather jacket hangs open, the silver zipper and buttons catching the sunlight.
The T-shirt underneath stretches tight across his broad chest, revealing the outline of his pecs.
Distressed jeans sit low on his hips, strategically frayed at the knees, and combat boots add two inches to his already imposing height.
He’s straight out of a dream—a wet dream where my world is rocked by a six-foot-seven ex-con who smells like cigarettes and motor oil.
He drops into the seat beside me, and hilarity bubbles up from my chest—not at the outfit but at his disgruntled expression.
“Holy fucking shit. Can I please take a picture?”
He doesn’t even glance my way. “No.”
My shoulders shake with silent laughter, and tears sting my eyes. “My God, you’re a panty melter.”
“Jackson,” he warns, a flush creeping up his neck.
“I’m sorry.” I press my palm to my chest and draw a steadying breath to calm my raging hormones.
It doesn’t work. “The beard, the leather jacket, those jeans on your hips… I’m so hard, I could cut glass.
I’d lick the bottom of your boots for you to fuck me.
Smash my forehead into the bathroom mirror while you ride my ass, please. ”
“Can you shut up?” he grits through his teeth, but there’s a hint of a smile in his eyes.
“No, you’re so fucking hot. I’d take a puck to the nuts to suck your dick right now. Tie my hands behind my back and fuck my face until my throat memorizes every vein. I wanna taste you on my tongue for we—”
His fingers grip my jaw, and his lips crash into mine, killing my filthy monologue. I groan into his mouth, and he breaks the kiss, leaving me wanting more.
“Be a good boy, and maybe I’ll reward you on the plane.”
“Yes, Coach.” I adjust myself discreetly. “Or do you prefer Sir?” My grin is absolutely feral. “Daddy? Master? Do you have a road name, perhaps?”
Reece walks his sister down the aisle, and the bride and groom exchange their vows beneath the oak trees draped in Spanish moss. It’s a picturesque Southern backdrop.
I glance at Aurora beside me. Her caramel eyes are glassy, catching the late afternoon sunlight. The Viking puts his arm around her and whispers something in her ear. She stares up at him in awe, her red lips parting. He kisses those lips—the same ones I’ve kissed a thousand times.
I recall him saying he’d propose one day, and, judging by the longing in her eyes, she wants that—the heartfelt proposal, the dream wedding, the handwritten vows.
Depression or sadness hit me out of fucking nowhere. She settled for me. She gave me what I wanted and needed, signing papers in a sterile office when a man who’d fulfill her fairy-tale dreams was there all along.
I didn’t get down on one knee. I didn’t propose. I never wrote the vows. I didn’t even take her to the courthouse. I took her to Rocco’s office to avoid attention.
Over and over, she set aside her dreams for me.
She deserves better. She deserves the man who will get down on one knee, who’ll write his own vows and have the courage to recite them in front of a courtyard of people.
My lungs seize, and I can’t draw in air, can’t look away, can’t stop the thought that they’re meant to be, that I’m losing my soulmate. My best friend.
Darkness claws at my mind.
The scream builds in my chest.
A firm grip collars the back of my neck, anchoring me just as everything threatens to shatter.
“You’re okay.” Ethan’s thumb traces gentle circles over my thrashing pulse.
“They’re…” I swallow hard, my own eyes filling with tears. “Perfect.”
“Yes,” he dips his head and whispers, “and so are you, so are we. Fate works in mysterious ways, baby. You have nothing to fear.”
Am I afraid? Afraid I fucked up and it’s too late? Afraid of losing the best thing to ever happen to me? Afraid of being alone with my nightmares?
You’re not there anymore. You’re not alone.
They’re not my words, not my voice.
I stare into those stormy gray eyes. He’s right. He’s always right. I’m far from alone and far from my past.
“What do you need?” His breath is hot against my ear, and goosebumps erupt along my skin.
He continues to caress the curve of my neck, and the tightness in my chest eases. His touch grounds me, pulls me back from the edge. I draw a full inhale, then another.
The ceremony progresses, and the officiant binds the couple’s joined hands with a red ribbon. I focus on the steady pressure of Ethan’s grip, the warmth of his body beside mine. The panicked thoughts slow then quiet.
I glance at Aurora and Reece again, but this time without the crushing weight of inadequacy and dread. They’re perfect, yes, but that doesn’t diminish what we have, what we’ve been through.
Aurora turns as if she senses my gaze, offers me a soft smile, and weaves our fingers together. I give her hand a squeeze and face the man who saves me every damn time.
“We could have a wedding,” I say, circling back to his earlier question about what I need. It’s more what Aurora needs, but her needs are my needs too, same with Ethan, with Reece, and I know he’d appreciate a wedding. He probably fucking dreams about it, probably has his vows already written.
“You could,” Ethan agrees.
My heart rate spikes, but not because I’m having another episode. “Do you want to get married?”
His dark brows pinch in a scowl. “To?”
“Me. Us.” I gesture to our foursome. “We could have a wedding.”
His eyes search mine. “You want that?”
“Yes.” The snark returns to my body with a wicked grin. “I’d marry you. I’d marry the shit out of you.”
His mouth quirks up at one corner. “A commitment ceremony? With the four of us?”
“I guess.” I give a half-assed shrug. “What else is there? You already have the rings.” I glance down at the tattoo on his finger, uncovered today.
He was quite a baby when I applied ointment to it this morning—until I removed my shirt to apply ointment to mine, and he couldn’t take his eyes off his teeth marks.
He nods, a slow smile creeping across his lips. “After Eli—when Aurora is ready,” he corrects. “Where would we go? Somewhere private? Tropical? You could surf.”
“You could relax.” I picture him stretched out on white sand, playing on his phone, because he never truly relaxes.
“I’d watch you.”
“And worry,” I add.
His smile widens—a genuine smile that shows off those dimples. “Most definitely.”