The Imperfections: A Forbidden Romance

by Sam Mariano

  Alyssa watches as I run my finger across the broken, jagged line in the wood.

  “See what?” she asks, frowning. “That little crack there?”

  I nod my head. “It’s a bit jagged. I guess this one’s not as pretty as the rest.”

  “Of course it is,” she says, taking it from my hands as if to protect it from my criticism. “It’s just a tiny scar—who cares?”

  Pulling a face of mild disdain, I shake my head and point to the little purple spot in the corner where the colors mixed together. “That’s not even supposed to be there. I planned for this set to be blue and pink. That’s not even the right color.”

  Scowling at me now, she hugs the coaster against her breast. “You stop picking at these. You did beautiful work and they’re absolutely gorgeous.”

  I nod my head, reaching over and taking it back from her. “I think so, too, and you know what? The imperfections are my favorite parts. I like the colors running together, I like the split in the wood, I like each and every scar. No two of these are ever the same because of those little details, because of the mistakes that give them character. I could cut wood in the same sizes and shapes, use the same color resin, but they’d all turn out differently—and none of them would look quite like I thought they would when I picked out the pieces. They’d all be beautiful in their own way, though.”

  Understanding dawns, and she drawls, “Ooh, I’m the coaster.”

  “We’re all coasters,” I tell her, setting the chunk of wood and resin down and turning my gaze back to her. “We’ve all got our own scars and fuck-ups to bring to the table.” Taking her hand, looking into her pretty blue-green eyes, I tell her, “I love you, Alyssa. I want to be with you. I want to marry you and make a family with you, and I don’t expect you to be perfect. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was holding you to an impossible standard. I’m always gonna be here for you, no matter what mistakes you make. Just do your best, okay? And be honest with me. That’s all I need.”

  Alyssa sighs heavily, scooting over and throwing her arms around my neck so she can hug me. “I want to make you happy, Brant.”

  “You do,” I assure her, unable to resist the temptation of pushing my fingers through the soft strands of her hair.

  “You are going to fuck up my wedding hair,” she warns.

  “Yes, I am,” I agree, working my fingers through it.

  “Brant,” she complains, sighing at me but not moving her head.

  “I like it better when it’s down.” I work the pins free without apology.

  “Your sister’s gonna kick your ass. She worked really hard on my hair.”

  “It’s all right. Bri will be satisfied that I didn’t make you cry and fuck up your makeup. Can’t please ’em all.”

  I finish taking her hair down and mussing it as I run my fingers through it, then I draw her closer and give her a kiss. Alyssa sighs as she breaks away from my lips, but she keeps her arms locked around my neck and her face close.

  “Promise you really want to marry me?”

  “Promise,” I assure her. “I’m bound to get mad at you sometimes, but it’ll never mean I don’t love you anymore, Alyssa.”

  “I really didn’t mean to make you mad,” she insists.

  “I know, but you did and you will again. We love each other, but we’ll still get on each other’s nerves from time to time. It’s not the end of the world. We’re gonna be married through good times and bad, right? Partners, no matter what?”

  Smiling, Alyssa nods her head. “No matter what.”

  Leaning my forehead against hers, I ask, “Can we go get married now?”

  She nods again then looks over at the mattress where I dropped her veil. “You’re gonna have to help me put that on.”

  “I do not know how to do that,” I inform her, pushing off the window seat and walking over to grab the flimsy material. “Do I just drape it over your head, or…?”

  Biting back a grin, she shakes her head at me. “Since you fucked up my wedding hair, you’re going to have to lift the top layer and make a tiny braid underneath so the comb has something to stick to, then fix my top layer and…” She trails off. “I’m gonna have to do this myself, aren’t I?”

  Nodding once, I assure her, “I’ll hold the netting until you’re ready for it.”

  As if I’ve said something ridiculous, she rolls her eyes and stands, fixing her dress before heading into the bathroom. “It’s not netting.”

  “It’s basically your gift wrap.”

  “You wrap up things, not people. You calling me property?” she teases as she walks into the bathroom.

  “Property of Brantley Morrison,” I call back. “I’m getting it tattooed on your ass. Didn’t I tell you about your wedding present?”

  Alyssa shuts the bathroom door in my face. I smile, ’cause now I’m thinking about her pretty little ass.

  I stay in the bedroom holding up her veil so it doesn’t wrinkle or whatever the fuck netting does when it gets mangled. It only takes Alyssa a few minutes to get her hair right, then she comes back in, feeling along the top of her head, and instructs me where to stick the little comb piece.

  It all seems needlessly complicated to me, but she sure does look pretty once she’s all decked out in her white dress and veil with a smile on her face.

  Even though she’s smiling, there’s a sad tilt to it, so I ask her what’s wrong.

  “I’m just bummed you saw me before I came walking down the aisle. I had my heart set on taking your breath away today,” she says, rolling her eyes like it was stupid.

  I walk over and wrap my arms around her tiny waist so I can pull her close. In response, she drapes her willowy arms across my shoulders. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” I tell her.

  “No? Why not?” she asks.

  Leaning forward, I press my lips against her forehead. “Because you always take my breath away.”

  27

  Alyssa

  After my pre-wedding meltdown, Brant walks me out to the barn to retrieve my bouquet and the rest of my bridal party. I look out the open barn door at the curious guests, many of them turned around in their seats looking at the barn for any clue as to why things have been delayed.

  Standing beside Brant before he goes back to the ceremony site, I sigh. “Does everyone know I just tried to bail? That’s so embarrassing.”

  “I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head and putting his big hands on either side of my head, pulling me in for one last kiss. “Who fucking cares?”

  I crack a smile and kiss him back, then he lets me go and heads back over to take his place under the arch.

  Bri walks over to stand beside me. She looks out at Brant in the yard then over at me. “Everything good now?”

  “Yeah, I’m all better,” I tell her, clutching the handle of my bouquet. “I feel a little stupid.”

  “Don’t feel stupid,” she says, absently patting my arm. “Forever is a big commitment. It’s natural to panic a little bit. Trust me, the day of my wedding, I was so nervous I thought about bailing, too.”

  Well, yeah, but she was marrying a toilet bowl full of trash. I’m marrying Brant. Big difference.

  I don’t say that, obviously, but the image of Theo getting flushed down a trash-filled toilet bowl does bring a smile to my face.

  God, he’s the worst.

  Brant is the best.

  I’m so lucky.

  Maybe Theo will get struck by lightning and die, then Bri can marry someone better.

  There are two songs set to play while everyone walks down the aisle. The first one plays while my niece, sister, and sisters-in-law head down the aisle. Thompson is our ring bearer, but rather than carrying any rings or an empty pillow, he has Scout’s leash and he’s walking him down the aisle. I watch from the doorway and smile as Scout stops in front of Brant and wags his tail excitedly, wanting to play. Brant bends down and pets his head but then pulls his alpha move and makes Scout sit down by his feet.<
br />
  He’s even bossy with our dog.

  God, I love this man.

  Originally, the plan was to have my mom walk me down the aisle since I don’t have a dad to do it and Pappy has bad knees. Once I got to the barn with Brant, though, I realized I don’t want or need anyone to walk me down the aisle and give me away.

  I send my mom back to her seat. When my music begins to play, I fluff my veil, clutch my bouquet, and haul myself down the aisle toward my groom.

  All eyes are on me, but my eyes are only on Brant. Even though the surprise of my wedding look was ruined, the expression on his face as I walk toward him is every bit what I hoped for. He looks hungry for me, like he wishes he could chase off all these people, throw me down on the ground, and claim me right here and now.

  I’m a little turned on when I get to him, and a little excited when I realize I do still have a wedding day look left to surprise him with—he hasn’t seen my bridal lingerie yet.

  All my nerves dissipate as Brant reaches out and takes my hands in his. The people watching fade away, so it’s just me and him, gazing at each other and making lovely promises I know we both mean.

  After we’ve finished saying our vows and I’m grinning dreamily at the man about to be announced as my husband, the officiant says, “If anyone has a reason why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  My gaze flickers to Theo, who is looking right at me. I quickly bring my gaze back to Brant, hoping he didn’t notice, but when I do, he’s looking behind me with a mild frown on his face.

  There’s an uncertain chuckle among the guests that draws my attention, then I turn to look behind me and see Bri sheepishly raising her hand.

  My eyes widen and my heart stops beating.

  Oh my God.

  Before I can launch into a full-blown panic attack, Bri smiles and gives me a little wink. “Just kidding.”

  I clutch my chest and the crowd titters more confidently.

  “You better put that hand back down,” Brant tells her.

  She does, but as she lowers her hand she also shakes her head at Brant and jokes, “The things I do for you.”

  Brant scoffs. “Right. The things you do for me.”

  I look over at the officiant, who is blinking in confusion since he doesn’t know what’s going on. “You can continue,” I assure him. “No one objects.”

  For some reason thinking he’s allowed to come in on the joke, Theo says, “I don’t know, maybe—”

  “I’ll stab you,” I tell him, straight-faced.

  Brant looks over his shoulder. “So will I.”

  Scout barks, as if to join in on the Theo stabbing party.

  “Good boy,” Brant tells him.

  Scout wags his tail.

  The poor, poor officiant stands there looking between us with no idea what to do.

  “We’re all good here,” Brant assures him with a nod. “Let’s wrap it up.”

  The man does his best to get things back on track, but there’s not much left, anyway. My tummy flutters when Brant grabs me and kisses me, then he takes my hand and we turn toward the crowd as we are formally presented as husband and wife.

  I’m filled to bursting with happiness as we walk down the aisle hand in hand, both of us wearing shiny new jewelry to signify our shiny new commitment to one another.

  We head straight into the barn, where our reception will be taking place. While the ceremony was going, the crew Brant hired to do setup and serve food have moved around tables and finished transforming our barn into a romantic haven.

  Lights are wrapped around beams and strewn throughout the room so it isn’t dark. Tables surround a makeshift dance floor, and I smile at the scratched-up wood beneath our feet.

  Squeezing Brant’s hand, I look over at him. “I can’t wait to dance with you.”

  “Who told you I could dance?” he shoots back.

  “All you have to do is hold me in your arms and sway back and forth.”

  Nodding as he looks around, he says, “That, I can handle.”

  “Until it’s time for the chicken dance, anyway,” I add innocently.

  Sliding me a dry look, he says, “Keep dreaming.”

  Grinning, I hug his arm and lean into him. “Oh, come on.”

  “Not gonna happen. If you want to make a fool of yourself, go right ahead. I’ll be sitting at the table watching you and drinking some whiskey.”

  The bridal party starts to file in behind us, so we turn around to greet them.

  My sister breaks away from her escort and runs over to give me a hug. “You look so pretty, Alyssa. And so happy, too.”

  Grinning helplessly, I tell her, “I really am.”

  Sighing with relief, she hugs me again. “I’m so glad. I was worried for a minute.”

  “Pre-wedding jitters,” I say dismissively. “Everything is perfect.”

  “Good.” She smiles at me then looks over at Brant like she’s not sure if she should hug him or not. I suppose he does look a little intimidating if you don’t know him like I do. “Well, welcome to the family, Brant.”

  “And here I was gonna welcome you to mine,” he offers back. Amber maintains a polite, enthusiastic smile, at least until he follows up with, “Speaking of that, we’re gonna have to talk a little later.”

  “Oh? About what?” she asks curiously.

  I look up at him, also curious what he has to talk to my sister about.

  “About your future. Alyssa told me you tried to sign up for some classes last year, wanted to go to school for nursing or something, right?”

  Looking at him blankly, she nods. “Right.”

  “Well, we should revisit that and see how I can help.”

  “Oh…that’s…” She shakes her head, confused by his interest in her future, then she says, “It’s all right, I don’t think it would have worked anyway. My boss is a total jerk, he wasn’t willing to give me the time off I needed. And honestly, I would have had to cut my hours too much, anyway, and then I wouldn’t make enough money to live. It was probably a stupid idea.”

  “It wasn’t a stupid idea. It was a good idea. If you want to be a nurse, you’re gonna be a nurse. I don’t care what your boss thinks.” Glancing past her at his sister waiting to talk to us, he says, “We’ll talk more about it later.”

  “We will?” she asks, baffled.

  Pressing my lips together as my sister looks to me for guidance, I give her a knowing nod. “I think Brant’s gonna father you now.”

  “Father me?”

  “It’s a thing he does. You’ll get used to it,” I assure her.

  “Well, someone needs to do it,” Brant mutters.

  My sister is so confused. I lean forward and give her one more hug. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it. You’re Brant’s family now, and Brant takes very good care of his family.”

  “Okay,” she says, still confused as she turns and walks off.

  Bri must have overheard the tail end of our conversation, because there’s an amused smirk on her face as she approaches us. “Taking in stragglers again?” she asks Brant.

  Lifting his powerful shoulders in a shrug as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his pants, he tells her, “Just adding a few tasks to my to-do list.”

  Her brown eyes twinkle in amusement as she shakes her head at her brother then looks at me. “Welcome to the family, Alyssa.”

  Looping my arm through Brant’s and leaning against him, I offer back, “Thank you.”

  “Bet none of us saw this coming when we hired you to babysit the boys,” she says lightly.

  I try to mask my uncomfortable amusement. “No, things definitely took a few unexpected turns.”

  “Ended up somewhere good, though.” She holds my gaze. “I’m happy for you guys.”

  Brant thanks her and she gives him a hug, then we move along to Crista and her husband. Thankfully, Theo had enough sense to hang back when Bri approached us.

  While Brant talks to this sist
er, I watch Bri, expecting her to return to her husband, but instead she returns to Thompson alone, sitting on the floor in his little ring bearer tux and playing with Scout. I frown, searching the room for his crummy father, and my heart sinks with dread when I see him standing against the wall by the storage room, his eyes fixed on me.

  I break eye contact as soon as I accidentally make it, but seeing him leaning against the wall outside the room where he attacked me and started all this trouble with Brant puts a damper on my post-nuptial bliss.

  I let my gaze wander around the room for a minute, then I glance back at Theo just to make sure he looked away. He hasn’t. He’s still staring at me, and when my gaze meets his, a little smirk claims his lips and he winks.

  I narrow my eyes at him to let him know just what I think of him, then I look away and refuse to look back.

  Once the guests start taking their seats, I leave Brant’s side to go check on the food. Our cake is beautiful, and the sight of the white butter cream makes my stomach growl, reminding me I haven’t really eaten much today. I had a granola bar for breakfast, but my stomach was too upset from the attack of nerves to eat any lunch.

  I look around for one of the people in charge of the food to see if I can sneak a little bit of something just to quiet my stomach. I see one of them bent over, shoving a box underneath a table so it’s not out in plain view.

  “Excuse me,” I call out, trying to get his attention.

  He pulls back, lowering the table cover and standing.

  “Would it be too much trouble—” I freeze as the waiter turns around and, rather than a stranger, I see a quite familiar smirk.

  Dirk.

  “Oh! Uh, hi,” I say, offering a little smile.

  His smile widens at my surprise and he dusts his hands off on the sides of his black slacks. “Hi,” he offers back, a touch more knowingly.

  My gaze travels over his body quickly, taking in his attire. For a second, I can’t think why he’s even here, let alone dressed as a cater waiter in black slacks and a white button-down, but then it hits me all of a sudden.