by Odette Stone
I gave an unsteady laugh. “How will you do that?”
He grabbed my hand and yanked me towards him, pressing my hand against his monstrous hard-on. “I have some ideas.”
Chapter 47
T-minus one day until the faux wedding…
Porter laid propped on my bed, looking sinfully hot in his suit and open white shirt. He watched me dress, his eyes so dark it made me want to rip my clothes back off and forget about the “friends and family” rehearsal dinner we had planned for tonight.
The last three weeks had been the best weeks of my life. It had felt like we both knew there was a shelf life to this relationship, so each moment, each time we came together, was more intense and more mind-blowing than the last.
In between preparing for the wedding and helping my father campaign, we stole away for hot dates and discovered a mutual love of public sex. The riskier, the better.
And I had never seen my parents so happy. To say they adored Porter was an understatement. Mom was his number one fan. She doted on him like the sun and moon shone out of him, fussing over him like he was her own son.
“Does Porter like Wellington beef?”
“Porter doesn’t like cooked carrots. Please, steam some other veggie for him.”
“Porter mentioned he likes to hike, so I bought you some hiking boots, Beth. And this thing they call a water camel.”
“I bought these dress shirts for Porter. I think this blue would look fabulous with his eyes.”
It felt so perfect, so magical, I couldn’t believe it was all about to come to an end. Mom was going to be devastated when he was gone. I, myself, was in complete denial.
The thought of facing the rest of my life without him was too impossible to process. So, I’d immersed myself into this fantasy, not willing to face the truth of this situation.
This was the end.
I didn’t understand how something so perfect could abruptly end. The whole thing felt surreal. We didn’t talk about a future. We didn’t talk about what would happen past today. I didn’t even know if he’d still want to see me.
Unwilling to ruin the last few weeks I had with him, I had been too afraid to bring it up. And he certainly didn’t talk about it. I think part of me had been hoping against hope that he’d bring it to the table.
I wanted him to tell me that he wanted to see me post-fake-wedding. But he never did. And now, in a few hours, in front of all our friends, we were going to announce our breakup. Not my idea of a good time.
I shrugged into my dress, turned around and lifted my hair. In a heartbeat, he was at my back, his lips at my neck while his fingers inched up the zip.
“Are you ready for tonight?” I asked, shutting my eyes as his warm lips nibbled on the sensitive skin behind my ear. We had decided as soon as everyone got adequately liquored up at our party, we’d drop the bomb that we had amicably decided to call off our wedding.
“You sure you want to do this?” his voice was low.
What???
Our eyes met in the mirror.
“Well, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be the bride left standing at the altar, so it’s now or never.”
Grey eyes studied me in the mirror. “Can we talk?”
Oh, please, tell me you actually want to marry me.
“Sure.” I spun in his embrace and wrapped my arms around his neck. “What did you want to talk about?”
He swallowed hard as his gaze searched my face. A knock sounded at my bedroom door.
“Go away,” I yelled, not even joking.
“Beth,” Mom’s voice sounded through the door. “We need to talk to you.”
“Mom, come back later.”
She persisted in a way only she could. “Beth, this is incredibly important. Please. Roo and I need to talk to you.”
Porter kissed my forehead. “Go, but promise me we’re going to talk before dinner tonight.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
My mom’s emergency was more of a non-emergency, involving shades of pink for the bridesmaid's bouquet ribbon. I honestly couldn’t see a difference in any of the shades of pink, but according to Roo, the wrong tone could be disastrous.
Once I had calmed them both down, I went searching for my fake groom. I heard Porter and my dad talking in the living room. Their words stopped me in my tracks.
Dad sounded anxious. “Of course, I’m giving you my blessing, but I’m begging you, one man to another. Please, don’t tell her.”
Porter’s voice was firm. “I need to tell her. This isn’t something I can pretend didn’t happen.”
“Porter, it’d ruin everything. After all these years, our family is finally where I’ve dreamed we’d be. I can’t afford to let the truth come out.”
I froze, wondering what they were discussing.
Porter’s stubborn tone was all too familiar. “I know that, but I can’t go through with this unless she knows.”
“It’s all working out the way it should’ve anyway. So why do we have to go there? Please, don’t tell Beth. Promise me, Porter.”
Before Dad could wrangle a promise out of Porter that Porter obviously didn’t want to make, I stepped into the room. “Tell me what?”
Porter stood with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
Dad turned and pasted the weakest smile on his face. “Darling, you look gorgeous. Is that a new dress?”
“Tell me what?” I inspected both men.
“Nothing, sweetheart. There’s nothing to tell,” Dad lied to my face.
I glanced at Porter, who seemed grim. He shrugged, and whatever they’d been talking about, I knew, as long as Dad was present, he wouldn’t tell me. I stepped further into the large room, about to push Dad for answers, but Mom approached from behind.
She sounded so damn happy it hurt, “There you three are. What are these long faces for? Come on, hurry up. The reservation is at 7 PM, and we should be there to greet everyone.”
“Of course, darling,” Dad said with false cheer. “Come on, now. Shall we all take my driver? The parking at this restaurant is dreadful.”
I knew the only reason Dad wanted to drive with us was so Porter wouldn’t talk to me. I glanced over my shoulder, catching Porter with his eyes momentarily shut. He looked tortured. I vowed that the moment we were alone, I would find out what they’d talked about.
The restaurant was one of New York’s most beautiful dining spots. Mom had reserved the entire restaurant for the affair. As soon as we arrived, friends and guests started to join us.
It was standing room only, with dozens of different tapas, sliders, a sushi table and a carving station, all paired with the finest wine available. I was kept busy, meeting and greeting people.
I searched the room, trying to find Porter. He stood at the bar, talking to some of my father’s friends. What didn’t Dad want Porter to tell me? Was that the same thing that Porter had wanted to speak to me about earlier?
And what about announcing the end of our engagement? Would that still happen tonight? Porter had made me promise we’d talk before our announcement.
Our guests were more that liquored up. We were reaching the now or never point of the evening. If we didn’t do it tonight, when would we do it? We were scheduled to get married tomorrow afternoon.
“I can’t believe you’re going through with this.” Yates appeared beside me. “This was supposed to be us.”
“I can’t believe you’re still my father’s campaign manager,” I replied, disbelief lacing my voice.
Dad had downplayed everything Yates had done up until this point, claiming they were too far into the campaign to replace Yates. Secretly, I believed it was because Dad was good friends with Yates’ father and couldn’t punt him without damaging his own friendship.
“Your father needs me. So do you.”
I worked to refrain from rolling my eyes. “Have you always been this delusional, or is this a new, fun trait?”
“Something is going on,” Yates assured me.
“I don’t know what it is, but I’m going to find out.”
I sighed, and my eyes met Porter’s eyes across the room. I tapped out the only Morse code I knew with one of my fingers, against my wine glass.
Short, short, short, long, long, long, short, short, short.
S.O.S.
“Yates, has it ever dawned on you that maybe you should move on?”
Porter’s eyes narrowed on my tapping finger. I repeated the signal.
“We were the ones that were supposed to be engaged. And now you're marrying him?”
Porter put down his glass and started to make his way towards me. Yates was going on about something, and he was completely unaware of Porter, but the moment Porter stood in front of us, he stopped mid-sentence.
“Well, if it isn’t the military monkey,” Yates sneered, counting on the fact that Porter wouldn’t do anything in front of a roomful of people.
Porter smiled one if his scary smiles. “How’s the broken nose? Did you enjoy getting that re-set?”
Yates took a small step backward. “Don’t think you can physically bully me. I know something is going on. I’m going to find out.”
“Beat it.” Porter’s eyes shifted to my face.
Yates disappeared into the crowd.
“SOS?” he asked.
“Thanks for saving me.” I stared into those beautiful eyes I loved.
He bent his head, so his lips pressed against my ear. “I need to talk to you.”
“Right now?”
He pulled back and stared into my eyes. “Right now. In private.”
My heart thudded against my ribs. His tone was so serious. “Okay. Let’s find someplace to talk.”
“Let’s go outside.” He took my hand and started to lead me across the room when he suddenly stopped so short, I almost bumped into him.
Five huge men, who all looked vaguely familiar in an unfamiliar way, stood in the doorway, staring at Porter.
Chapter 48
“Holy shit,” Porter breathed.
And then, like a hurricane, they descended on him, intense expressions on their faces. I stepped back, unsure what they were going to do to him.
Bear hugs.
They were pulling Porter into giant man bear hugs.
It was borderline roughhousing. One guy ruffled Porter’s hair. Another pulled him into a headlock. There was a lot of backslapping and affection. The entire room watched in bemusement.
Friends? Army buddies? Guys from his SEAL team? I scanned the room for Emily. If that was the case, where was Jackson? Emily said they wouldn’t be arriving until tomorrow morning.
One of the guys caught my eye. His eyes widened, he stopped moving, and he called out, “Guys. Guys!”
I stood silently as they all stopped short.
“This is the bride,” he said in near reverence.
Six pairs of eyes, including Porter’s, all turned and measured me. Six pairs of beautiful grey eyes. All fringed with the beautiful lashes. Holy shit. These were his brothers. His big brothers.
They stared at me, and I stared back. They all shared his same physique, but their hair ranged from caramel blonde to dark brown. My eyes found Porter’s and he watched me with an expression I couldn’t read.
“Hi,” my voice cracked slightly.
One of them slapped Porter across the back of the head. “Are you going to introduce us?”
Porter stepped out of the bear pack and wrapped his arm around my waist. “This is Beth. My fiancée.”
The first guy stepped forward and gave me a devastating smile. “My name’s Jordan. As you might have noticed, I’m the best looking one in the bunch, but don’t hold that against Porter.”
They roared with laughter, and I snickered as he shook my hand.
Jordan.
Brice.
Calvin.
Forrest.
Miles.
One by one, they introduced themselves to me, all the while razing each other or Porter. They were funny. They liked to joke. And they all held deep affection for Porter.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” Porter looked like he’d woken up in some sort of dream.
“Well,” Brice—or maybe it was Miles—said, “Weddings are about family, aren’t they little brother?”
A female voice, soft and so full of emotion, spoke, “Porter.”
The boys parted, and there stood an older woman, looking at Porter with her hands over her mouth. An older man in a wheelchair sat beside her. He had the same grey eyes of the man I loved. Porter had gone completely still, his eyes moving between the couple.
“Mom. Dad.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he repeatedly swallowed.
“Oh, my baby.” She rushed into his arms.
They hugged for a long time, his face buried into her neck. It felt like a reunion hug between two people who hadn’t seen each other in a very long time. I didn’t know why, but I was fighting tears. Looking around the room, I was pretty sure I wasn’t the only one.
And then Porter stepped back and focused on the man in the wheelchair. “Dad.” Emotion coated his voice.
“Come here, son,” the man said.
Porter crouched beside him and gave him a long hug. Pure joy and love cross that man’s face while he hugged Porter tightly.
Roo sidled up to me and gave me a sideways smile. “Do you think Porter likes his surprise?”
“You did this?” I gawked at Roo in shock.
“When I asked Porter about his family, he told me that they wouldn’t be interested.”
No shit. Because this was a fake wedding that wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Wow, Roo,” I was at a loss for words, watching as Porter crouched beside his father to talk to him.
His father surreptitiously wiped tears from his eyes. Eyes that never left Porter’s face. I was fascinated with all of this. Fascinated with these people that made Porter’s identity. This was his family.
“You must be Beth.” Porter’s mom approached me.
“Hello.” I was terrified to face this woman without Porter at my side.
She pulled me into the warmest, softest hug imaginable. “Thank you so much for inviting us. I can’t tell you how much it meant to us.”
I was about to explain that it had nothing to do with me, but Roo stepped in, “Beth knew how much Porter would want you guys here. She killed herself to find you guys.”
Porter’s mom beamed at me. “Thank you so much. I’ve been worried sick about Porter for years. And this…” she choked up. “This is so special for us.”
“Oh, yes,” I pretended to know what she was talking about, but I wondered why Porter’s mom had been worried about him for years. How much time had passed since he’d seen his family? “I’m so glad you could come.”
She pulled me into another wonderful hug. “I can’t wait to get to know the woman my son has fallen in love with.” She had a warmth to her.
I liked her. “Are you hungry? Can I get you something to drink?”
She tucked her arm in mine. “Maybe some wine, but first, I need to meet your parents.”
Three hours later, I watched as four of Porter’s brothers, Dad, Roo, and six other men, arm in arm, tried to perform some complicated circle dance that involved a lot of Hungarian kicks and laughter. A dozen other people gathered around, cheering and clapping.
It took the arrival of Porter’s family to shake this party loose. Now, instead of a formal, staid affair, in which everyone stood around and quietly talked, it actually felt like a party. Jackets and ties had been shed. People danced, drank, laughed, joked and fell down drunk.
I glanced over at Mom, who was stared lovingly at Calvin doing a full-on demonstration of a story that involved what appeared to be a horse. Porter’s mom stood beside mine, sipping a glass of whisky as—I couldn’t believe it— Mom burst out laughing. Now Calvin was pouring out two shots of amber liquor, and it appeared he was trying to teach Mom how to do a shot.
My eyes scanned the room, t
rying to pick Porter out of the crowd of sweaty, happy, drunk people. As if he could sense that I was looking for him, his eyes pinned mine across the room and he walked towards me.
“Porter.”
He looked fucking delicious. His jacket had been shed. His dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and untucked from his pants. His hair was rumpled.
He stated the obvious, “My parents and brothers are here.”
“I noticed. They really know how to liven up a party.”
“I didn’t invite them.”
“Roo did.”
Porter paused and gave a short nod. “Roger.”
“He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you.”
He didn’t respond.
I stared at Porter. I could see concern and tension in his eyes. “Porter.”
“Can we hold off on our announcement?” he interrupted.
I looked around the room of so many happy people, “We might cause a riot if we called it off now.”
A sad smile teased his lips. “I need to talk to you. And with my family being here…”
“I get it.”
He rubbed his eyes with one hand. “My brothers want to take me out drinking after this party. Can I wake you when I get home?”
I stared up at him. “Won’t you be drunk?”
“No. I’ll keep it under control. I might be late, but I really need to talk to you.”
“Does this have to do with that conversation you had with my dad?”
“Yes. No. Part of it does, but this is another part.” His stress was palpable.
I reached out and grabbed his arm. “It’s going to be okay.”
He nodded, but I could tell that he didn’t think things were going to be okay at all.
Chapter 49
I woke up to a crash. Lifting my head from my pillow, I peered into the darkness of the room. It was 5 AM.
“Porter?”
“I’m here,” he said from the floor.
