Kent has been on his best behavior, and he’s in great form, laughing and joking, and I let go of the slight anxiety I was holding on to earlier. Kent hasn’t said much about the wedding since he agreed to be Keaton’s best man. I know he went with Keanu to meet Austen, Keaton, Orwell, and Colton for their suit fitting, but he was pretty tight-lipped when he came back.
“Austen’s family seems nice,” I say as we are walking back to our cabin later with me tucked under Kent’s arm.
“His mom looks like she has a stick up her ass,” he says, his words a tad slurred. I figured he was a little drunk because he was knocking back the beers and he finished out the night with a few whiskeys. “But his dad, brother, and sister seem all right.”
“Orwell is something else.” He is studying engineering at the University of Denver and about to enter his senior year in September. I chuckle as I remember some of the risqué college stories he was telling us earlier. From the sounds of it, he’d give a young Kent Kennedy a run for his money.
“He’s a punk,” Kent says.
I giggle. “A bit like someone else I know, or so I’ve been told.”
Kent tickles me, and I shriek, pulling away from him, but he’s fast, even inebriated, and he hauls me into his chest, wrapping his arms around my back, caging me to him. “Not anymore.” He leans down, kissing the tip of my nose in an infinitely tender gesture. “You reformed me, Presley baby.”
Circling my arms around his neck, I tilt my face up. “You reformed yourself, Kent. Never forget that no one can save you if you don’t save yourself first.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Presley
“Kent looks like he’s going to pass out,” Eva whispers to me as we sit in the first row of seats the following day, waiting for Keaton and Austen to make their big entrance.
All eighty guests are here, and the best men are lined up on either side of the stone platform waiting for the grooms to arrive. The officiant smiles widely as he surveys the beautiful setting. The elevated stone platform where the ceremony will take place rests at the edge of the twenty-acre property, overlooking the plush woodland and breath-stealing Green Mountains in the distance. Overhead, an open stone archway has been decorated with gorgeous white and orange flowers with green foliage interspersed between the columns.
“He’s nervous,” I admit, working hard to hide my concern because Eva is right. Kent is pale and sweating bullets as he fidgets, pulling on the end of his black suit jacket, running his fingers along the collar of his white shirt, as if it’s choking him, and constantly dragging his hands through his hair. “Keanu will reassure him,” I add, watching as his triplet whispers in his ear.
I don’t think any of Kent’s family understand how big of a deal this is for him. And why would they? As far as they are concerned, Keaton and Kent have repaired the rift in their relationship and everything is peachy. Except I know they have only papered over the cracks, and everything is far from resolved. This weekend is hard for Kent, for reasons I still don’t understand, and I’m proud of him for pushing himself out of his comfort zone to be here for his brother.
The music starts, and everyone stands. I lock eyes with Kent, conveying he can do this and I’m proud of him. His shoulders relax a little and he mouths “I love you.” I blow him a kiss, repeating the silent words, smiling as I turn to watch the procession.
The kids are up first, and they all look adorably cute in their little suits and dresses. Hewson is the ring bearer, and he goes first, proudly holding his chin up as he walks along the stone path toward the platform. The rest of the nieces and nephews follow, and everyone oohs and aahs as they skip up the aisle, excited to be a part of the day.
Then the grooms appear, on either side of the garden, as the strains of “Truly, Madly, Deeply” by Savage Garden pulse out of the mobile speakers. James is escorting Keaton, and Alex is escorting Austen. I’m not sure why one of his parents isn’t giving him away, but there must be a reason.
I watch Austen and Keaton walk toward one another with a lump in my throat. They only have eyes for each other, and I can feel the love emanating from them. A sob rings out near me, and I instinctively turn toward the sound, watching tears pour down Faye’s face. Kyler wraps his arms around his wife, looking like he’s struggling to hold on to his emotions too.
Austen and Keaton meet at the end of the aisle, and they move as one, pressing their foreheads together as Alex and James step back. Kent’s dad pulls his mom into his side, and they share a loving look. Austen grabs Keaton’s hand, and they stare at one another with tears in their eyes.
“I love you,” Austen says, his words ringing out clear enough to be heard over the music.
“I love you too,” Keaton says, swiping tears off his cheeks.
“Let’s do this, baby,” Austen says, and Keaton nods.
With matching smiles, they face forward and start their walk up the aisle. They are wearing similar black suits, but Keaton has a white button-down shirt with a deep orange tie, and Austen is wearing the same shirt in black with a white tie. They both look so handsome and so in love, and my heart is bursting with joy. As I look around, I see I’m not the only one. This is the very first wedding I’ve ever attended, so I don’t know if the outpouring of emotion surrounding me is normal or out of the ordinary.
The grooms reach the platform, sharing some banter with the officiant before turning to face one another, holding hands as the ceremony begins.
My eyes return to Kent, noticing the glaze in his eyes and the hard set of his jaw. He holds himself rigidly still as he stares off into space. Unless someone was concentrating on him, nobody would notice how his gaze is trained just above Keaton’s and Austen’s heads, or how his foot is tapping anxiously, or the little beads of sweat dotting his brow. The weather is warm, and we’ve been blessed with a glorious sunny day, but that’s not the cause of Kent’s discomfort.
I want to go to him so badly, but I can’t.
Keaton and Austen make their vows, and they are beautiful and heartfelt, but I am only half-listening as I watch my boyfriend, praying he holds it together, at least until the ceremony is over. He will never forgive himself if he makes a scene.
Applause rings out, joined by several whoops and hollers, as the officiant pronounces them husband and husband, and Austen and Keaton share a passionate kiss. I glance along the row, smiling at the evident emotion on everyone’s faces. All the women are crying, some of Kent’s brothers too, while the kids stand around, bemused by all the weeping adults.
I breathe a sigh of relief when the officiant brings the ceremony to a close, and Keaton and Austen join hands, heading back down the aisle.
I slip out of my seat, moving to Kent’s side. Keanu is talking in his ear as Colton and Orwell send perplexed looks his way. Keanu lifts his head when he sees me approaching, and there is no disguising the concern on his face.
“Kent.” I cup his face, focusing his gaze on mine, silently cursing when I see how dilated his pupils are. Fuck. He’s on something, and I’m not talking about the beer he chugged back just before the ceremony. My stomach twists into knots, but I know what I need to do. “Honey.” I lean up, pressing my lips to his until I feel him thawing underneath me. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “It’s over.”
Kent’s chest rises and falls, and he casts his eyes around, watching everyone heading toward the refreshment area off to the left. His shoulders relax as he pulls me into his chest, holding me tight. His heart is going crazy under my ear, and he’s trembling. Tears prick my eyes, and I hurt for my broken man. I want to know who has hurt him, and I’m going to make them pay.
Selena comes up behind us, and Keanu tucks his wife into his side, shooting me a troubled look. “We’re good, guys,” I say, plastering a reassuring smile on my face. “You should join the others. We’ll be there in a minute.”
Keanu looks uncertain, but Selena pulls him away, and I shoot her a grateful look.
“It’s just us.” I circle my
arms around the back of Kent’s neck. “Talk to me.”
“That was harder than I thought,” he admits, planting his hands on my ass.
“That was the hardest part, and you got through it.” Every part of me hurts for him. He should be able to enjoy his brother’s wedding like everyone else. It shouldn’t be something he has to “survive.”
“You look beautiful,” he says, peering down at me. “I knew the second you tried this dress on that it was the one for you.” Kent insisted on taking me to Saks Fifth Avenue, and he spent an outrageous amount of money on this dress, a matching purse, and shoes.
I joined the other Kennedy women in Alex’s room earlier to get my hair and makeup done. Alex hired a few professional hairdressers and makeup artists she knows from her fashion empire days, and they worked their magic on all of us. I’ve got to admit I feel like a million dollars.
I left my hair down, because Kent loves messing with it, and it tumbles in sleek soft waves to my shoulders. Although it feels like they slapped a ton of makeup on my face, I was pleasantly surprised that it looks understated and natural, and it complements my green dress perfectly. I love how the knee-length silk and lace Dolce and Gabbana dress swirls around my hips and sashays as I walk. The top is pretty plain, and it goes up to my neckline, but it plunges into a V on my back, meaning I couldn’t wear a bra. Thank fuck there was one built in because my boobs need the support.
“I’m a lucky bastard to have found you,” he says, pushing his hand up under the dress and sliding it up my thigh. He fixes me with a cheeky grin as his fingers brush against my panties.
I want to rage at him for the way his eyes can’t even focus on me. One part of me understands why he felt the need to take something to get through the day, but another part of me is pissed he did. He promised he would stop using drugs, and for the most part, he has. Sure, he still smokes a joint most nights and he enjoys the occasional few beers, but he has reined in that reckless part of his behavior, and I haven’t had any recent doubts.
Until now.
But today isn’t about me, and starting an argument with Kent is not part of the agenda. I need to play my part to ensure he gets through this weekend without causing any trouble. So, I’ll bite my tongue until we return to Boston, but then I’m letting him have it.
I will not tolerate my boyfriend turning to drugs instead of me.
I will not go down this slippery slope again.
If Kent is serious about me, he’s got to find a way to completely stop. Otherwise, there is no future for us.
“Not here.” I pull away from him when his fingers move under my panties, rubbing against my hot flesh.
“I need you, Presley baby,” he murmurs against my neck, yanking me back to him, pressing his erection against my side so I can feel how hard he is.
“Kent, the wedding has only just started.” I’m conscious we’ve been standing here for longer than is explainable. Taking his hand, I pull him off the platform. “Let’s mingle, and we can find someplace to sneak off to later.”
But Kent is not one to be deterred, and I’m guessing whatever he’s taken is to blame for his current horny status. He leads me into the castle, holding my hand tight as he storms down one long hallway, pulling me into the first unlocked room he finds. It’s a small library with rows of books surrounding a seated area with two couches, a few comfy chairs, a desk, and a big ornate fireplace.
Kent locks the door and presses me up against it, crashing his mouth down on mine as he fumbles with his belt. I help him, tugging his pants and boxers down, freeing his straining length. “I’m so hot for you, Presley baby. You get me so hard.”
My fingers curl around his shaft, and I pump him in fast measured strokes as he yanks my panties down to my ankles and shoves my dress up to my waist. “Don’t rip anything,” I warn him, because he likes rough sex and it’s not uncommon for him to tear my panties or articles of my clothes in his haste to get inside me.
“Don’t worry, baby,” he says as he rolls a condom on. “The only thing I’ll be ripping is your pussy because I’m gonna fucking destroy it.”
I’d thump him for that crass statement in any other situation, but right now, he needs me and that takes precedence.
Kent slams into me without warning, and I bite down on my lip to smother my screams. He stretches my arms up over my head, holding my wrists in one hand, as he drives his cock inside me, holding one of my hips in his free hand. He rocks into me, slamming me back against the door, and I pray no one is outside in the hallway. His mouth descends on mine in a punishing kiss, and God help me, but I love when he just takes what he wants, using my body to sate this unquenchable thirst inside him.
Releasing my wrists, he slides his arms under my ass, lifting me. My legs go around his waist, and he holds me up as he fucks me into oblivion. Kent works out like a beast, and he has a body carved of hard muscle, but I’m still impressed. Holding on to his shoulders, I grind my pussy down on his cock as he thrusts up inside me, and we both come a few minutes later.
“Holy fuck, baby.” He staggers a little as he lifts me off his dick, planting my feet on the ground. “You are so damn good at that.”
“So are you,” I rasp, pulling my lace panties up my legs as he pulls the condom off, tying a knot in it and dumping it in the small trash can under the desk.
“I’ve had lots and lots of practice.” He laughs, winking at me as he tugs his boxers and pants up his legs, as if it’s funny.
Bile swirls in my gut, and anxiety prickles my skin.
I have no idea how I’m going to get through this day unscathed.
“Thanks for that,” I hiss through gritted teeth. “That’s exactly what a woman wants to hear just after her boyfriend’s had sex with her.” Sarcasm drips from my tone.
“Baby.” He reaches for me, but I push him away, his words upsetting me more than he realizes.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” I know he wasn’t a saint. Far from it. But I purposely don’t think about all the other women, and he doesn’t usually reference his previous sex life. Today is the last day I want to be thinking about how much sex my boyfriend has had with copious random women. Today is a day to celebrate love and everything that is wonderful and intimate between two people.
“Come on. You know I have a past.”
“Like I have, but you don’t hear me throwing Chris or Lync in your face.”
He purses his lips. “Don’t be petty, Presley. And you’re completely overreacting.”
I don’t think I am, but I force my own feelings aside, for the sake of peace. “Just drop it,” I say, grinding my teeth to my molars as I struggle to get a leash on my hurt and my anger. “And we should head back before your family sends out a search party.”
He chuckles. “They probably already have, but who fucking cares?” He slings his arm over my shoulder, clueless to how much his words have hurt me, before opening the door.
We almost fall face-first into Austen’s mother.
How wonderful.
“Oh my God. You gave me a fright!” she says, planting a hand on her chest. Her gaze bounces between us, her eyes widening with recognition. Slowly, she looks us over from head to toe, and acid crawls up my throat. The skirt of my dress is wrinkled, and I’m sure my makeup is in need of repair. Kent forgot to button the top button of his pants, his tie is askew, and his hair is messed up from my fingers. It’s obvious what we were doing in that room.
Her lips pull into a disapproving line. “This is the height of bad manners. Especially with you being your brother’s best man! I have read some very unsavory articles about you online.” She looks down her nose at us. “I can see they didn’t exaggerate.”
“You’re one to talk,” Kent hisses. “No one asked for your input, and your own manners could use polishing.”
“You can’t speak to me like that!” Her nostrils flare, and her cheeks redden.
“You know what your problem is?” Kent says, his lips tugging up at the corners.
I brace myself for it. “You need a proper dicking and for someone to remove that stick up your ass.”
“You are disgusting, and you have a filthy mouth.” She rakes her gaze over him like he’s vermin.
“Fuck off,” Kent snaps. “And mind your own business.” Taking my hand, he guides me out into the hallway, brushing past her.
“Your parents will hear about this!” she calls out after us.
Kent spins around, shoving his middle finger up at her. “Do I look like I’m five or like I give a shit? Do your worst. Stuck-up bitch.”
I virtually drag him outside, rubbing at my throbbing temples. Though it looks like I’ll be on babysitting duty for the rest of the day, I stop a waiter and grab a glass of champagne off his tray because I have a feeling I’ll need some liquid courage.
I’d like to say things improve as the day turns to night, but they don’t. At least the wedding is almost over, and Kent hasn’t caused any other trouble. I spoke to Keanu, explaining about our altercation with Mrs. Hayes, and he smoothed things over with Austen’s mom. She will never be Kent’s biggest fan, but I doubt either of us will lose sleep over it.
“Let’s dance, Presley baby,” Kent proclaims, coming up behind me and taking my hand, even though I’m mid-conversation with his sister-in-law.
“Sorry!” I shout at Lana as Kent hauls me out onto the dance floor.
He’s been drinking and dancing up a storm while I watch from the sidelines, mostly sticking to water and the odd glass of champagne. Kent is trashed, and one of us needs to be sober. His family doesn’t notice, or maybe they’re used to it, or they’re putting it down to wedding exuberance. Whatever it is, I seem to be the only one concerned. I’ve noticed he keeps his distance from Austen and Keaton, which I consider a good thing. The happy couple is loved up, and they’ve been showered with congratulations and goodwill today, and everything has gone without a hitch.
Reforming Kent: A Stand-Alone Angsty Bad Boy Romance (The Kennedy Boys Book 10) Page 23
