“Drop him in the yard somewhere,” Adam muttered.
“So bad...” Jillian shook her head. “Come here, Lyle. We’ll play with you for a little while...”
His growl audible to everyone within earshot, Adam shivered.
“What, Cheese Puff? It’s rough playing with kids your own age?” Drew taunted.
Ultimately, Maggie took control, telling everyone where they should stand and assigning places—albeit much to the dismay of the wedding planner. And no one was in any hurry to rehearse—especially not Lyle and Lara.
They’d decided to practice with fake rings, fashioned from twist-ties that Adam quickly pulled from the kitchen. However, when Lyle’s immediate response was to throw said “rings” from the snow white pillow that he carried, Drew immediately stepped in.
Given Lyle's series of temper tantrums throughout the day—and his obvious disdain for Drew—they all agreed that it was probably best if he not carry around a couple of hundred thousand dollars in jewelry down the aisle.
“I'm passing the duty from one toddler to another...” Drew said to Adam as the bridal party took Maggie’s directions and waited for the practice processional down the aisle to begin. “Dad’s got the real rings in his safe. He can give them to you right before the ceremony tomorrow. Protect them with your life...or else, Motherfucker...”
“Fuck you, Mack,” Adam whispered, minding Father McCarron off in the short distance. However, the moment brought back a fond memory of their youth. “Shit...remember when Mom made us be altar boys and we drank the altar wine?”
“You drank it, and blamed me,” Drew accused, and realized he'd spoken a little too loudly. “And we wouldn’t have been in trouble if you hadn’t dropped that damn bell right in the middle of mass, you asshole.”
Father McCarron shot them both a disdainful look. Yes, he did indeed remember that day—on Easter Sunday, no less—all too well. Obviously, not much had changed with those McKenzie boys over the years, Father McCarron thought. Such a shame, too, given that they had such lovely parents.
“Who picked this song?” Adam whispered, as the string quartet—straight from the New York Philharmonic—struck up Pachelbel's Canon in D. “Falling asleep here...”
“Ah, Adam, your appreciation of music is almost as frightening as your fashion choices,” Drew spat back. However, he had to find his way, alongside Father McCarron, to the gazebo, while chatter continued over who was walking with whom.
“And Vicki, if you could line up behind Declan and Maggie…” Maxine began.
“Why?” Vicki’s face cloaked with confusion and maybe a little bit of panic. “I’m not in the—”
Delicately, Maxine stepped up beside her and took her hands in hers. “Vicki, you’re a part of our family, too,” Maxine said. “And I would be honored if you’d walk down the aisle in my wedding party.”
“Maxine, I—”
“No tears, because I’ve cried enough of them for everyone, and I don’t want to get started again,” Maxine insisted, then pecked her on the cheek. “I love you, Vicki.”
It was the first time Maxine had the courage to say those words to Vicki, and her father’s girlfriend understood the weight of them. She was this new woman—the first to step in after Maxine’s mom—and she took her role in the Kirk family very seriously.
“I love you, too Max.”
Meanwhile, Maggie continued to pass along her instructions, and Maxine took her spot beside her dad and readied to take his arm.
“What's so funny?” Tom teased. “Yeah, I guess it is pretty hilarious—me giving you away to that Bozo under the gazebo...”
As always, Tom felt the need to mask his own emotions with humor. He knew that the following afternoon, when he did this for real, he wouldn't be so jovial.
“Hey,” Maxine playfully tugged at his shirt sleeve, “At least I'm not marrying Adam!”
“Yeah, and thank goodness,” Tom said, lifting his arm for Maxine to take as they prepared for their cue with a nod from the wedding planner.
As they finally began their stroll, she focused on the moment at hand. Maxine was never one of those girls who had dreamed of her wedding since she read her first fairy tale. Instinct alone led her every step of the way. She simply wanted the day to be filled with their deep love for each other, and she intended to maintain that spirit throughout.
And although she'd been preparing for nearly four months and was ready to marry Drew the second he asked her, Maxine couldn't escape the surrealistic feeling as she held on to Tom. She focused on Drew waiting for her under the gazebo while the string quartet strummed softly to guide her every step.
As she neared the makeshift altar, all eyes were upon her, and she could see that Maggie and Vicki were already crying. She’d also caught a glimpse of Ben as he turned toward Jeffrey to wipe away a tear or two.
Glancing upward, she called upon Judy once again to give her strength and to make this wedding her very own.
I love you, Mom, she thought as she continued on. I wish you were on my other side right now, but I know you’re here in spirit.
Soft laughter filled the air between Maxine and Drew as Tom “gave her away” before Father McCarron. They went through the motions of the ceremony, skipping over their vows which Maxine and Drew were saving as a surprise for each other. Luckily, though, they were just about to wrap up with the recessional when little Lyle decided to throw yet another tantrum. Jillian was the unfortunate member of the wedding party sitting next to the children. To give Zoe a much-needed break, she scooted those twins toward the back of the yard as Father McCarron finished up with the “mass.”
Throughout the rehearsal, Maxine wondered what sort of kiss Drew would opt for in rehearsal. To his credit, he kept things very chaste, unlike their previous lip lock on the patio. However, it had been such a long, desperate week of chastity, and that delicate brush of his lips over hers nearly sent Maxine into a frenzy. This sexual hunger strike left her ravenous.
Always a McKenzie, though, Drew pulled out his iPhone once again as he walked her down the aisle for the recessional. With a groan, Maxine muttered, “What could I have possibly done now, Mack, to add to your stash of insubordinations?”
“Oh, I don’t need to register anything for Naughty Sassy Maxine at the moment.” That playful look in his eyes bordered on devilish as his thumb snapped away at the camera phone while Adam rolled in the grass with the twins. “But I do need evidence. Photos. Blackmail. All a part of the Grandbaby War. And my mother should see this.”
“Oh, Mack...” she whispered as they neared the back of the yard, arm-in-arm.
“This is all just priceless,” Drew snickered, then switched on a dime to exude an absolutely patronizing tone as he addressed Adam. “Hey, little brother...made a new little friend, I see?”
“Gonna scoop da yittor wiff Adam,” Lyle told Drew, those little eyes turning beady as he approached.
“Yeah?” Drew said, his voice just filling with excitement. Typical Adam, passing his chores off to another child. “You know Adam pays a hundred bucks to his helpers, right? You make sure he gives you the money—in cash.”
“A hunner doyyars?” Those little Lyle eyes suddenly grew huge. A true McKenzie—and at a mere three-years-old—he already knew the value of money.
“A hunner doyyars,” Drew repeated, meeting his brother's dueling eyes.
“MOMMY!” Lyle screamed suddenly as Zoe tried to sneak by quickly. Drew knew she was running off for a forbidden cigarette. “A hunner doyyars for poop!”
“Yes, little man, that’s wonderful! You stay there with your cousins,” Zoe hurried on, “and Mommy will be right back...”
“One...hundred...dollars...” Adam seethed. “To scoop the poop of your maimed cat and his twin...”
“He's healing nicely, Adam,” Maxine joined in. “And don't attempt to divert us. We know what you're up to here...”
“You shall scoop...while I merely supervise...with my friend Lyle, here...” Drew
said, lifting Zoe's reluctant son into his arms. “Right, kiddo? Are you going to help me watch over him? Make sure he's doing a good job?”
Rubbing his fists into his tired, tear-worn eyes, Lyle said, “I guesso, Cousin Dweew...”
“He's gonna pay you...” Drew encouraged. “Think of all the things you can buy at Dylan's Candy Bar next week...”
“Well...” Lyle considered, much like Drew and Adam did when they bargained as children themselves. “Okay...”
And as the ladies watched the boys scurry into the house, Maxine leaned in closer to Jillian. “I certainly hope you succeed with Adam, girlfriend...because I'm gonna need back-up over the years here...”
“Max...”
“Yeah, Jill?”
Folding Maxine into the bend of her arm, Jillian said, “Think I might need it, too...”
# # #
Dinner was, as Maxine had suspected, a chaotic affair.
Tom and Declan stuck together like glue. They'd bonded over sports. Had a few drinks. And more than a few laughs. They enjoyed each other’s company immensely, and they both realized that perhaps they weren’t as different as everyone might have thought.
However, Aunt Frannie and the children were quick to steal the show from everyone. She insisted that Zoe was their nanny and questioned why their parents would leave the twins in such inadequate hands. Zoe also knew the drill with Aunt Frannie and decidedly took a smoke break between each course, taking her glass of wine with her to the front porch with every excuse to leave the table.
And then there was Adam McKenzie and Jillian McGee—sighing, teasing, and murmuring sweet delicious nothings. Lost in their own little corner of the room, they’d both forgotten the real reason they were all gathered together. And Maxine and Drew happily left them there without interruption. It was just lovely to see Adam with a twinkle in his eyes that no one in that entire house had ever seen before.
Between the children—big and small—and the general family madness that befell any gathering, all were ready to call it an early night by nine-thirty. Yet Drew wasn't ready for Maxine to slip away to slumber quite yet.
At the bottom of the grand staircase, he took her hands in his and touched his lips to hers. “How about a walk on the beach, little one?”
Against his mouth, she murmured, “I'd be delighted...”
Of course, Drew wasn't about to allow Maxine to head outside in the flimsy little dress and cardigan she'd worn to the rehearsal. He made her change into jeans and a sweater while he dug out her scarf and gloves from the depths of her overnight bag. He'd even grabbed a couple of spare throws from the linen closet before they left.
The night air had indeed grown chilly, and Maxine was thankful for all of Drew's cool weather precautions. Strolling through the yard, he pulled her close—to hold her, to keep her warm, to protect her.
He was careful to choose a spot far away from the foaming tides to prevent them from getting all wet. First, he covered the sand with one blanket, and then joined Maxine, curling his legs around her before covering them both with the second velvety throw.
“You sure you're not chilly, my sweet little one?”
With a deep, contented sigh, she settled back against him so very comfortably. “No,” she said, smiling out toward the ocean. “In fact, you gave me a shot of the warm and fuzzies just now.”
“You know, I remember...” Drew began, “when I was living in that house in Brooklyn...there were so many nights that we had no heat during some very cold winters. And I still remember that feeling of being frozen to the bone—no matter how many blankets we had.”
Since Louise’s suicide, Drew occasionally recounted his memories—some painful, others moderately pleasant—of the first few years of his life. Now, he could occasionally tell her a funny story about that little girl he called his sister, or remember a sweet moment with that brother he still hoped to find. Maxine was the first and only person to whom he'd ever disclosed those reminiscences.
“But all of that made you stronger,” Maxine said. “And I think it's the reason you have such a big heart now...”
“I know that I don't talk about it a lot—but I do remember where I came from,” he said. “And you're right, Maxine. It has shaped the man I am today.”
Entwining her gloved fingers with his large bare hand, she said, “And I can't wait to marry him tomorrow...”
“I think I surprised Adam with my calm over the wedding,” Drew said, resting his chin on the top of Maxine's head as her hair fluttered about in the evening breeze. “I don't understand why people have such fear in getting married. I love you, and nothing makes me happier than knowing I've got an entire lifetime to spend with you.”
“The only thing I'm nervous about is slipping in my heels,” Maxine admitted.
“Little one, you've got me on one side of the aisle, and Thomas Kirk on the other,” he reminded her. “Do you think we're going to let you fall?”
Tugging at his hands, she pulled his arms tighter around her. “You never do...”
Much to Maxine's own surprise, she mused over the fact that it had been exactly one week since they'd made love, but she didn't necessarily have sex on her mind that evening. It certainly wasn't that she didn't want Drew. Those quiet moments were just as important, if not even of greater significance, than their often long and passionate conversations.
“I just love being like this with you—just sitting here, no agenda,” Maxine murmured, feeling his lips and breath tickling over her scalp. “Holding each other...”
“I was just thinking the same thing,” he whispered. “I'm sure my cock is telling you a different story right now...but this is so very nice—just us.”
“Well, your cock can thank the agile workings of your own devious mind for that one.”
“Just think—in twenty-four hours, you'll be losing your virginity all over again, little one...”
“Who ever thought a girl could lose it twice? And to the same man, no less...”
The roll of the waves, its splash and sputter so beautiful to the ears, continued to slosh against the sand. Maxine could have just fallen asleep right there with Drew. He’d keep her warm.
“Little one,” Drew said with a trace of hesitation. “Can I tell you something?”
“Go ahead,” Maxine challenged. “I should probably hear it all considering I'll be your wife in a few short hours....”
“Your virginity—the first time around...” he paused “...scared the fucking piss out of me...”
Drew's embarrassment over his admission left Maxine in nothing short of stitches. Settling back against him with a little jiggle to her wiggle, she said, “Don't knock it til you've tried it, Mack!”
“Oh, I did indeed enjoy it,” he assured her. “But dammit, I was terrified I might hurt you. That—and the fact that I was treading on stalker territory those first few days with you...”
“Oh, you weren’t stalking me,” Maxine's voice resonated with a bit of false assurance. “Well…no…maybe a little...like when you had Ben let you into our apartment at midnight to tie me up—and followed me to my meeting with Jeffrey.”
“Yeah, that was bad,” he said quickly. “But you, Maxine...you left me in such a panicky quandary. There were more than a few moments when I just thought—”
That time, Maxine turned her head, peering up into his soft blue eyes. Trust and honesty were two definitive terms of their relationship—far beyond their sexual negotiations. Now in this most intimate of conversations the night before their wedding, Maxine held not a single doubt to their devotions shared between each other.
“What did you think?” she prompted him.
“I...” He stopped to crook a finger under her chin. “I just thought you were so scared...and I thought you'd walk away...”
“Well, for all intents and purposes here, Mack, I wasn’t necessarily scared,” Maxine clarified. “How about hesitantly intrigued?”
“Alright, I shall give you that,” he agreed. “
But I have to admit that was a turn-on, too. You were so curious for a virgin.”
“Drew...?” Maxine flashed those two big emeralds and batted her lashes as she stretched her neck out, nearing her mouth toward his.
“Yeah...?” he whispered, leaving his lips to open as he awaited her response.
Her fingers, appointed by her French manicure that she'd had that afternoon, carefully crept into his thick hair, only slightly windblown by the ocean air.
“Will ya?”
“Maybe...”
“Well...what if I just...?” And with the utmost delicacy, Maxine puckered up her lips as if it were the first time they joined. So gently, she pursed her mouth against his, kissing ever so gently... playing...with almost a sense of innocence.
“Ohhh,” Drew groaned while her tongue lapped over his mouth, daring to slip just inside to flick at his for a fleeting moment. “Those lips, Maxine...”
“Just kisses...” her husky voice breathed against him.
And to her prodding he opened his mouth wide, claiming her with a sense of tenderness that melted her. Luring her in with his Rasputin-like charms, Drew plied her with such a delicate flair, eliciting the sweet, pleading moans from deep within her throat. Maxine couldn't tear her lips away from his...nor could she refrain from ripping at his curly locks.
“Oh, little one...”
“Sorry...” she muttered. “Got carried away...”
“Oh, hell no...” he said. “I love it when you pull my hair...almost as much as when I pull yours...”
Burrowing against his woolen, navy blue P-Coat, Maxine snuggled closer to Drew's chest. “Mmm...”
How he just adored seeing Maxine like this—so calm and comfy to the point where she was almost cooing. However, he just had to interrupt the moment to kiss her again.
Catching her breath against his mouth, he'd surprised her with another, this time lingering, tickling and teasing. Insatiable, she dueled with him, taunting him in return until he bit her bottom lip, prompting a restless growl of self-indulgence.
“Now, we're treading into dangerous territory, Mack,” she warned.
KNOTTED: The Manhattan Bound Series, Book Three Page 18
