Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances

by Maggie Way

“He’s drunk.” Shea spat the words with disgust.

  John muttered something in another language.

  Leo’s eyes glittered. “You have no idea.”

  “Shouldn’t we get him to the hospital?” Shea said.

  “Yes.” Luke and Noah spoke at once.

  “I’m fucking fine.” Leo staggered toward the last row church pew and collapsed onto his back with his feet sticking out into the aisle.

  Father John turned to Luke. “We should get started. The next group will be here any moment.”

  The four other brothers moved toward the altar, and Mina hurried to take her position in the vestibule to begin the procession they’d rehearsed.

  Emily set her heels. “Can’t we just… start?”

  “Are you sure?”

  Emily nodded.

  She moved to stand beside Luke at the altar. His anger had whipped into a furious storm and radiated off him. Talons of dismay reached out to claw at her. It was the first time she’d ever looked at him and seen something ugly.

  Father John came to stand before them with a warm smile, but when he spoke, he sounded faraway, and her mind struggled to grasp the meaning of his words.

  The ceremony passed in a haze for Emily.

  When Luke placed his hand on the Bible, so did she. He felt cool and stiff to the touch. When he turned to face her, she turned also, though her gaze fixed on the column of his throat.

  “I, Luke, take you, Emily, to be my wife.” She detected little softness in his voice.

  Her hands started to shake.

  “I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

  A crude belch resounded from the back row of the church.

  Father John’s face flushed with anger. “Emily, do you take Luke, to have and to hold, from this day forth, until death parts you?”

  “I d-do.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

  “Repeat after me. I, Emily, take you, Luke, to be my husband.”

  Many long seconds ticked by before she was able to utter a word. “I, Em-Emily, take y-you, Luke, to b-b-be m-my husband.”

  A sob built in her throat. “I promise to b-be true to you in good times and-and-and in b-b-bad, in sickness and-and in h-health.”

  Luke’s hand closed over hers, and she squeezed her eyes shut. His grip tightened, and with it, a slow, steadying breath rattled through her.

  She lifted her gaze to his. “I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

  Father John’s strong voice carried through the church. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

  The pianist struck the piano and a joyous melody trumpeted.

  Luke held out his arm and Emily slipped her hand under the crook of his elbow. He fired a look at Shea and Jack, as if to say, Are you happy now?

  There was little happiness in her heart when they walked back down the aisle, arm in arm, as husband and wife.

  As Luke and Emily emerged into the chilly December air, large snowflakes wept from the sky. Church bells rang out, the peal of their chimes spilling across the hillside cemetery to drop off the cliff side and fade away over the waters of Lake Michigan.

  Gray clouds loomed off shore, while waves crashed against the rock face below. Much like the anger churning inside him.

  They’d thought he wasn’t going to show up to his own wedding.

  Worse, they’d let Emily know they thought so. He’d seen the hurt on her pale, stricken face.

  He’d dedicated his entire life to being a good guy, the best, and that was what he had to show for it? His own brothers didn’t trust he’d do the right thing?

  He might’ve defended himself, except he didn’t want to talk about what he’d been doing. He didn’t want to recall the sickness that slithered through him when he first saw Leo’s mangled truck. The weight of the shackles that’d clamped around his ankles, or the burden choking the breath from his body. He’d barely fought off the paralysis long enough to secure the area and assess Leo for injuries.

  The flashback had been one of his worst yet. They were coming more often, more intensely, and it was taking him longer to recover from the attacks.

  No, he couldn’t tell them that. He couldn’t tell them what he now knew—that he wasn’t strong enough. He couldn’t conquer the chaos in his mind. The memories would never stop and he’d grow weaker, wearier. Until he succumbed to his DNA.

  Hopelessness caused his jaw to clench and he couldn’t speak when he opened the passenger-side door of his car for Emily.

  She drew back. “Do you m-mind w-waiting a m-m-minute?”

  He shut the car door and leaned against the vehicle. Rather than reenter the church as he expected her to do, Emily set off down the hillside. He rammed his hands into the pockets of his black wool coat for shelter against the cold air and watched as she approached the gate to the graveyard.

  She hiked up her puffy skirts and trampled through the snow in her delicate heels. At her mother’s grave, she laid her bridal bouquet of deep red roses across the tombstone and pressed a kiss to her fingers that she dropped over the engraved name. Then she scampered back through the wet snow.

  As she hurried up the drive, terror rose up to wring the breath from his lungs. How in the hell was he going to keep from hurting her? Corrupting her with his taint? Like spilled paint seeping over white paper, he would ruin her perfection.

  When she approached the car, he remained blocking the passenger-side door, and the moment she was within reach, he slipped his hands beneath her hair and pulled her to him.

  His mouth brushed over hers. “I’m sorry,” he said against her lips.

  For the first time since he’d arrived at the church, he noticed the dark shadows under her eyes and the pallor of her complexion. A deep disquiet disturbed the smooth whiskey in her eyes.

  He pressed his forehead to hers and inhaled her sweet scent.

  “You’re so beautiful.” The words traveled directly from his brain to his tongue.

  He wasn’t referring to the way she wore her hair, down and pinned back at the sides, or the fancy dress, but the rest of her. All the parts people didn’t see.

  His hands slipped down the thin column of her throat and beneath his fingertips, her pulse scrambled.

  “Luke, I’m sorry—”

  He stopped her with a kiss. “You have nothing to apologize for. Let’s just get through this dinner so we can go home.”

  Shea had closed the pub for the night and planned a quiet post-ceremony dinner for the family. Luke contemplated skipping out on it altogether, but he hadn’t eaten since grabbing some shitty fast food earlier in the day and she deserved some merriment on her disastrous wedding day.

  They drove the short distance to the pub in silence. He parked in the back lot and helped her out of the car. His hand at the small of her back, he resisted the urge to reel her in and let himself drown in her heat and her heart. Instead, he pulled open the pub door.

  And a cheer went up.

  A nasty curse shot from him and he bared his teeth at the horde of bodies packed into the dimly lit room.

  Through the throng people, Shea appeared before him. “Sorry, man. Word got out and I couldn’t stop them.”

  Luke looked down at Emily.

  Her smile wavered. “All y-your friends are h-here. H-how nice.”

  Then the crowd rushed forward to engulf them, separating her from him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Loud, laughing faces swam before Emily. Someone stepped down hard on her foot and she tripped. An elbow poked her in the ribs and she shrank back to the edge of the crowd.

  Bodies rushed in to fill the hole left in her wake.

  Retreating to a booth tucked into an alcove at the edge of the celebration, she collapsed onto the hard bench. Her gaze sought and found Luke. For a time, she watched him, observing the way his friends interacted with him. Always flirting. Always offering him more than
he asked for, and he, always smiling and going along with the joke.

  The pinch in her chest twisted with misery.

  She shook off the grip sorrow. She was his wife, and she wanted him to be happy. She wanted his friends to like her. She needed to make an effort.

  Someone slid into the booth across from her. She had a familiar face, and Emily soon recalled meeting her at the pub the night she and Luke had dropped by for dinner. Jenna, the flirty one.

  Emily smiled.

  Jenna scowled. “You bitch.”

  Emily gasped.

  “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Jenna laughed. “Actually, I’m not kidding, but it isn’t you personally that I hate. Any woman that married Luke was going to be despised in this town.”

  Jenna teetered away, and thus ended Emily’s attempt to woo Luke’s crowd.

  Self-consciousness rushed forward to swamp her. She sensed their eyes on her. Assessing, judging. What she at first assumed were curious glances, she now suspected were something else.

  They thought she wasn’t good enough for him.

  When another figure appeared at the table, Emily filled with apprehension. So when she looked up into the friendly face of her college roommate, Haven, she nearly wept with relief.

  She threw her arms around her old friend. “It’s so good to see y-you.”

  “I almost gave up.” Haven’s long brown hair hung in soft waves down her back and her raspy voice matched her sassy personality. “This place is nearly impossible to get to.”

  They sat on opposite sides of the table. “I know. I’m sorry it’s been so awful for you.”

  Haven raised the wineglass in her hand. “I’m almost over the trauma.”

  Haven was much the way Emily remembered her from college, except with a solemn light behind her eyes that Emily didn’t recall ever seeing before. Emily supposed she must appear similarly changed.

  Haven leaned forward in the booth. “So tell me, which one is he?”

  A blush touched Emily’s cheeks as she scanned the crowd and pointed Luke out to her friend.

  Haven’s big brown eyes widened. “Holy shit, I’m just gonna say it—your husband is freaking hot.” She leaned forward. “Does he have any brothers?”

  Emily held up her hand. “F-Four of them.”

  “Wow, four brothers?” She collapsed back in the booth. “Are they all as hot as Luke?”

  Emily laughed. “Luke stands out, but y-yes, they’re all good-looking and w-wildly successful. One’s a w-world-famous professor.” Her spirits lifting, she craned her neck and rocked forward and back. “He’s the one next to Luke. W-We like him. He’s smart and funny, and super sweet. O-one brother quit law to run this p-pub and o-one is a p-p-professional hoc—”

  Someone bumped Haven’s arm and her wine sloshed.

  Then Jenna fell into the booth beside Emily. “So, Emma, have you met my friend Kate?”

  Emily looked up to see Kate hovering at the head of the table.

  A feeble smile wavered and a shadow of pain touched her blue eyes. “Congratulations.” She sank into the booth next to Haven. “I didn’t know you and Luke were dating.”

  Shock rendered Emily mute. “Oh, well, uh…”

  “It was a bit of a whirlwind romance. Love at first sight.” Haven jumped in. “I mean, what’s not to love, am I right, Emily?”

  Haven hung a heavy emphasis on her name and Emily buried her face behind her water glass.

  Guilt and unease rushed to the surface of her skin as a heated blush. Luke had told her he and Kate were not a couple. Had Kate harbored secret feelings for him?

  A Cheshire cat smile curled Jenna’s lips and she raised her beer. “How about a toast? To love at first sight?”

  A wave of nausea hit Emily and she lifted her glass.

  “Wait, is that water?” Jenna peered into Emily’s glass. “Why are you drinking water at your wedding reception?”

  Riotous warmth flushed Emily’s face. Her brain rushed ahead of her tongue and everything got jumbled up in her throat.

  “Omigod,” Jenna gasped. “Are you pregnant?”

  Emily wanted to deny it, but then she caught the slash of pain on Kate’s face and she just stared, mute.

  “So that’s why he married you.” Jenna’s softly spoken words seemed to scream at Emily.

  The blood left Emily’s head in a sickening rush. “N-no.”

  Jenna stared at her with round eyes. “How very clever of you.”

  A splash of liquid slapped Jenna in the face.

  “Oops, I’m sorry,” Haven purred. “It just slipped out of my hand.”

  Jenna’s expression turned murderous, and then in a flash of movement, she lunged across the table.

  Chaos erupted.

  Jenna had Haven by the hair, but with a quick strike, Haven flipped their positions. Beneath her, Jenna kicked and flailed her arms.

  Kate darted from the booth even as a large body plunged into the fray. Jack clamped an arm around Haven’s waist and hauled her off Jenna.

  Jenna pressed a palm to her cheek.

  “Holy shit.” Jack gasped for air. “I think that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Haven twisted in his arms, craning her neck to look up at him. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing. “I might say the same thing.”

  His hold on her firm, a seductive smile pulled up one corner of his mouth. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Hi, I’m Jack.”

  “I’m Haven.”

  “You bitch.” Jenna seethed. “She threw her drink at me.”

  Haven blinked her wide eyes. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened. The glass slipped right out my hand.”

  Jenna pressed a palm to her cheek and, with a feeble huff, stalked away.

  Haven peeked up at Jack and tipped her chin in the direction Jenna had fled. “Sorry, but she was mean to my friend.”

  Jack’s gaze swept over Emily. “Your friend is my new sister-in-law, so I thank you.”

  Haven’s laugh came out on a huff of air. “Are you single, Jack?”

  “As a matter of fact I am, Haven.” He reached up and brushed a strand of dark hair off her forehead.

  “Are you going to let me go, Jack?”

  His gaze fastened on her mouth. “No, I don’t think I will.”

  Emily gaped at them. Her heart thundered and blood roared past her ears, so she didn’t at first register the sound of her name being said over the restaurant’s loud speakers.

  “Emily, where are you?”

  Confused, she looked around even as people were turning to look at her. Over the wall of the crowd, she spotted Luke standing on the small stage near the front of the pub, a guitar strapped to his body.

  “Come on up here, sweetheart.” He teased a few bars of a song on his guitar. “Let’s show these jackasses how it’s done.”

  The blood left her head with a dizzying swoop.

  Luke’s heart pounded its panic. He watched the color drain from her face, and with the force of a sledgehammer, realized his mistake.

  He’d let his anger cloud his judgment.

  Anger that his brothers thought him the kind of lowlife that’d skip out on his own wedding.

  Anger that his supposed friends greeted the news of his wedding with shock and thinly veiled disbelief. Not that he’d married, but that he’d married her.

  Then, when he watched the way they talked over her, ignored her, and finally, pushed her completely out of the way, anger had turned to cold fury.

  She was miserable. He was miserable. There was only one thing to do.

  Shut them all up. Show them what he saw. What they were too blind to see. That the woman he’d married was more than all the women he’d been with before. Not only was she softhearted and smoking hot, but she was crazy talented, too.

  Except she didn’t join him on stage, but stood frozen at the back of the pub, her brown eyes huge in her pale face. Jack appeared at her side.

  Luke gulped down rising b
ile. Nothing to do now but get them through the next few moments.

  “My beautiful wife is a little shy.” His voice carried over the sound system. “She could use a little encouragement.”

  A smattering of applause rippled through the crowd, and then grew steadily louder when Emily crept forward a tiny fraction of an inch.

  Luke’s heart soared. He leapt down off the stage and plunged into the crowd, reaching her side in a few long strides.

  Her pupils had dilated to swallow all the light. He clasped his hand around hers and pressed a kiss to her fingers. Then he guided her to the stage.

  He positioned her behind one of two microphones, and bringing his guitar back around, strummed the chords of a song he’d heard her singing the other day.

  “You know this one, don’t you, baby?”

  Glassy-eyed with shock, she nodded.

  He leaned away from his microphone. “Emily, look at me.”

  Her brown eyes latched on to his face.

  “Look only at me.” He smiled. “That’s my girl.”

  His fingers plucked the chords of the opening notes, but her cue came and went without her singing.

  He repeated the short refrain. “How about we sing this first part together?”

  With a deep breath, he began to sing. Soon, she joined in.

  Her voice at first wobbly, it grew stronger by the end of the first verse, and together, they dropped into the chorus. Their voices mingled in harmony, the quality of the sound transcending that of either of their voices alone.

  At the start of the second verse, he let his vocals drop away, and her sultry voice poured over a rapt crowd. Her heart in her song, she mesmerized the room with her longing for a love she’d lost. His heart wedged in his throat, he swallowed hard to dislodge it before rejoining her at the chorus.

  They eased into the concluding refrain, trading vocals like lovers exchanging endearments.

  When Luke strummed the last chord, applause erupted. She startled, and with a look out over the crowd, fled the stage.

  He charged though the crowd after her, dodging smiling faces and congratulatory pats on the back. The cool air smacked him in the face when he shot through the back door and into the dark night.