by Anthology
2
CHAPTER TWO
Cali
“Taylor, please make them stop walking so loudly?” I turn to my best friend in desperation.
“Whose crazy idea was it to put the bride’s dressing room under the sanctuary? I mean it’s a recipe for Xanax.” She rubs my arm and I wonder if she has any St. X on hand.
“I can hear them being escorted down the aisle to their pews. It’s like a stampede of elephants in high heels and leather loafers,” I complain as the sound of clicking and pounding comes from the ceiling overhead. “I feel faint.”
“You look pale even under the glam makeup.” Taylor eases me over to a chair by the vanity mirror we’ve all been using to check and recheck our lipstick.
“Do you have a pill?” I whisper through my lips, so my mother doesn’t hear.
“Didn’t you learn anything from Sixteen Candles?” She places her hands on her hips and eyes me from her standing position. “Remember the sister on her wedding day. She made a fool of herself with like valium or something.”
“Oh God.” I almost cover my face with my hands, but stop in midair. I can’t ruin my makeup and hair. “She couldn’t feel her face.” I swear the room starts to spin as I look up and try focusing on Taylor.
“Get me some O.J. sans champagne,” she yells to the room around us. “Cali, you’re going to be okay.”
“I hope you’re right,” I mumble and start to sway in my chair. “I can’t have a repeat of Ella Winfray’s show.”
A cold sweat runs over my skin as I close my eyes and envision my collapse on the talk show. I should’ve never looked at the audience and cameras. Brady told me to focus on him, not the crowd of fangirls clapping and screaming his name. As if.
“No fainting on my watch,” Taylor says while taking a glass of orange juice from my mother. “Here. Sip this. This is what they do to keep from passing out after giving blood.”
Taylor presses the glass to my lips and I take a sip. The cool liquid tastes sweet and refreshing to my dry mouth.
“Better?” Taylor asks with a hopeful smile, but worry fills her eyes.
“I think so.” I take the glass from her hand and drink some more.
“I know,” my mother exclaims and we all turn toward her. “Put on that music you all listen to. The crap stuff. Oops.” She brings her and to her mouth. “I mean rap.”
Taylor and I look at each other as smiles break out on our faces. Leave it to my mother to save the day.
“You’re right Mrs. Jones. This room is dead silent. Except for the feet noises.”
Taylor takes out her iPad and pulls up a playlist. She sits it down next to me on the vanity, and the music drowns out the ceiling noise. Besides we only have a few more minutes until we have to make it up the stairs, which brings another wave of worry over me.
Why can’t I be like Brady?
He is likely breezing through this day all easy going and smiles. He is used to getting up to bat in front of thousands of people. I would buckle under that kind of pressure. Plus he’s never met a stranger, where as I would’ve been fine with a small ceremony, say at the courthouse. But I know that’s a lie. I’ve dreamt of a formal wedding since I saw my first bridal reality show on TV. I wanted the princess part; a lovely gown, beautiful flowers adorning the church. I just forgot about the pews and the people needed to fill them.
The wedding planner’s assistant starts to flutter around the dressing room. She’s checking her phone and nodding her head. I think it’s showtime.
“Ladies, we have the go ahead. Let’s form a line and head upstairs.” She gives her command standing by the exit door. My heart starts to race as she opens it. Shit just got real.
“Deep breaths,” Taylor whispers into my ear. “Focus on Brady and what will happen later.” She ends with a wink.
“He did tell me to keep my eyes on him and him alone.” He knows me so well.
“Smart,” Taylor says while giving my hand a squeeze. “You two love the hell out of each other and this is the start of a wonderful life together.”
“You’re so right,” I say with a sigh. “Thanks for being here for me.”
“That’s what a best friend and maid of honor are for. We need to work on that maid part though.” She laughs with a twinkle in her eye. “Especially before I can add the word ‘old’ to it.”
“Well the first baseman was eyeing you last night at the rehearsal dinner . . .” I trail off and leave Taylor to fill in the blanks.
“And I eye fucked him right back.”
“I would be disappointed in anything less.”
I tease her but it’s true. Taylor isn’t one to hold back in the sexual seduction department. I’ve been in awe of her powers over men for sometime. We hardly ever had to buy our own drinks when we would hit the clubs. At least one of us had game. Which makes me even more thankful I have Brady. It’s a freaking miracle to be honest, or voodoo, since that’s how our meeting happened. I just can’t tell my mother that part. She’d have an exorcism scheduled for us.
My sweet father is waiting for me in the hallway outside the dressing room. He scans over my face and dress then smiles at me with a mixture of happiness and sadness, which I didn’t know was even possible.
“Cali, look at you,” he says while taking my hand and holding it to the side. “All grown up and so beautiful.”
Oh no! I swear there are tears forming in his eyes. I’ve only seen my father cry two times. When his mother and father passed away.
“Ah, Daddy. Please don’t cry. I want you to know how happy Brady makes me.” I bite my lip in hopes of willing away my own tears.
“I know, sweetheart. He’s totally smitten with you. I just can’t believe how fast life has flown by.”
“Me too, Daddy.” I give him a kiss on the cheek and weave my arm through his. We are locked at the elbow and the feeling of him beside me takes away some of my anxiety.
We follow the bridesmaids up the short flight of stairs into the vestibule outside the main sanctuary. I spot my wedding planner ahead of us with a clipboard in her hand. As we approach her, she answers a phone call and starts barking out orders to the person on the other end.
“Get Brady and the bridegrooms out to the alter. Cali is here. We are ready on our end.” She ends the call and turns to me.
“Wow, you’re stunning,” my wedding planner says with her eyes wide.
She isn’t one to give unsolicited compliments. Actually I’ve been a bit afraid of her at times. But she’s done an excellent job at planning the wedding. My main tasks have been tasting cake samples and making a choice, and picking out the right wedding dress. I delegated the flowers and just about everything else to her. She’s the professional.
“Thank you. For everything.” I give her a sort of side hug. I can’t mess up the hair and makeup. Not to mention the bridal veil I have flowing down my back.
“It’s been my pleasure. Actually, I never thought I’d be planning Brady Luck’s wedding.” She smirks at me and I have to laugh, because it’s still not quite sunk in that Brady’s mine. “You brought Chicago’s perpetual bachelor to his knees.”
Before I can answer I hear the sound of organ music through the closed wooden doors that lead into the sanctuary.
“Ready?” my planner asks. I nod and take a deep breath knowing that it’s time. I just need a little luck, or a big, hot guy version waiting for me at the alter to make everything right.
3
CHAPTER THREE
Brady
The most beautiful woman in the world walks down the church’s aisle toward me. My heart skips a beat as she draws closer to me. My face hurts from the crazy smile I have on my mug, and I can’t remember every being this happy, elated even, like I’m soaring in the damn clouds. Fuck, even the World Series win felt different.
That was a moment. Something I shared with fans around the world.
This is forever. Something I’m only sharing with one person, my soon-to-be wife, Cali
.
Cali’s father stops and kisses her cheek before he release her to me. I nod at him in a sign of thanks for letting me be the man to have her hand. For life.
Cali steps up next to me with her face beaming. I reach for her hand and take it in mine, which dwarfs hers in size.
“Cali, baby,” I whisper before we turn toward the minister. “It’s been two long weeks, but we have a lifetime.”
Her cheeks flush and she lowers her eyes. They widen when they land on my crotch. Our gazes meet, and I smirk at her, which makes her blush again.
Cali and I turn toward the minister and the service begins. I don’t let go of her hand the entire time.
We exchange our vows and get to the good part. The kiss. Forget the traditional peck on the lips. I scoop her up in my arms and lay a fat, juicy one on her lips. Holding nothing back, not even my tongue, she melts into me.
The entire church erupts in applause as we continue. After a few more long seconds, we break our kiss. But I continue to hold her in my arms. She’s used to me not letting her feet touch the ground. From throwing her over my shoulder like a Viking and carrying her to bed, or picking her up like I am now and kissing the shit out of her.
I tilt my head at the minister to continue. He tries to be serious, but I can tell he’s fighting a smile from the tension around his mouth.
“Brady and Cali, I now pronounce you man and wife.” The minister finally grins at the two of us. “Go Cubs,” he adds at the end and the guest’s clapping gets even louder, with a few shouts and hoots.
I proceed down the aisle toward the back door with Cali still in my arms. She kicks her legs and laughs at me, not even trying to escape, as she knows better. I’ve never let her down and never will.
If you enjoyed this outtake of Brady and Cali’s story, find the entire bestselling sports romantic comedy here: HARD LUCK.
ABOUT LIV MORRIS
USA Today bestselling author Liv Morris was raised in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri. She now resides on the rock known as St. Croix, USVI with her first and hopefully last husband. After relocating twelve times during his corporate career, she qualifies as a professional mover. Learning to bloom where she's planted, Liv brings her moving and life experience to her writing.
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VIVA LAS VEGAS
Mariah Dietz
1
CHAPTER ONE
Tressa
“You’re fidgeting.”
I release a low growl as I look over at Camden and make a show of placing both of my hands on my thighs where I struggle to keep them still.
“Tressa, they’re going to love you. Relax.” He flashes a quick smile in my direction before focusing his attention back on the interstate.
“Easy for you to say,” I murmur. “My parents love you.”
Camden sits up straighter, his smile stretching wider. “Of course they do. Everyone loves me.”
“Was it your mother that taught you that lie? If she did, it’s really important for me to know ahead of time.”
The edges of his lips are still tilted upward, but they do a brief dance as he tries to figure out how to reply. He turns to look at me. “Why?” he finally asks.
“Because I’m really going to be up shit creek without a paddle if you’re that big of a mama’s boy.”
The cab of Camden’s dark blue truck fills with his laughter, and he reaches over and gently grasps my thigh, which he playfully shakes. The silent gesture is meant to encourage me to relax, but I can’t.
“Maybe we should wait?” I suggest, glancing at the shimmering diamond—a new addition to my left hand’s ring finger. I hate the words even more said aloud than I had when they were merely a thought.
“Tress.” The truck noticeably slows as he says my name in a gentle tone that assures me he’s beginning to understand how nervous I am.
“I mean, you’re not just springing your new girlfriend on them, you’re springing your new fiancée on them.”
He sighs quietly while his fingers constrict around my leg. “Babe, like I said, they’re going to love you. You’re amazing. You’re perfect. They’re going to see how ridiculously happy you make me, and that’s all that matters.”
Perhaps it’s the light reflecting off the diamond or the warmth of his touch or the prospect of wearing my wedding gown, which is currently taking up nearly the entire backseat of the cab, but Camden’s words lull my worries to a quiet white noise that grows quieter as his steel blue eyes fanned with thick, sooty lashes meet mine. As soon as he realizes I’m once again “Team Shotgun Wedding,” he flashes the same full smile that has made my heart stutter since I first saw it six months ago … and each time since.
“Do you think our parents will get along?” I ask.
Camden nods. “I’m sure they will. For the most part.”
“For the most part?” I ask, my voice turning high pitched.
He shrugs noncommittally, causing my anxiety levels to once again peak.
Keeping my voice as calm and level as I can manage, I ask, “What does that mean?”
He releases my thigh to grab my left hand and his thumb fiddles with my engagement ring. “I’m just messing with you. You’re kind of an easy target right now.”
“And you’re kind of an asshole.”
His head falls back against the seat as he laughs again. “Easy, tiger.”
I show all of my teeth as I lean toward him and bite the air several times.
Rather than leaning away or laughing again, Camden leans closer to me and plants a chaste kiss on my lips, erasing my thoughts and anger as a cloud of his sweet cologne floats over me, which leaves me with the spicy promise of arriving at our hotel room in just a short while.
2
CHAPTER TWO
Camden
“What are you doing?” Tressa asks, watching as I pull into the parking lot of the resort.
“Parking.” Recognizing her confusion, I grin. “Perks of being the manager’s son.”
Tressa slides her seatbelt off and takes a final look around before placing her hand in mine. I squeeze it, offering her as much warmth and comfort in the single gesture as possible. It’s ridiculous that she’s nervous to meet my parents, and I’ve told her so a hundred times, but Tressa is big on tradition. Which is why I was so surprised when she suggested we do a small destination wedding. Excited about the idea, I began picturing Vegas or Hawaii, but was willing to go anywhere that added another stamp to my passport too. However, Tressa wanted to make sure that our parents would be able to attend, which led to hours and days of researching small halls and parks … until I mentioned the resort my parents—who refuse to fly—manage.
Being that it took several weeks just to agree on a location, I felt that it was defeating the entire purpose of having a small, intimate wedding and therefore played my card, requesting that the wedding be held at the resort’s earliest availability. Luck was on my side because the next day we received a call from Darla, the wedding coordinator that has been working for my parents since I was a teenager, informing us about a cancelation that allowed us to get married just two weeks later, four days from today.
“Stop looking for my parents,” I tell her. “We’re the first ones here, and I plan to put this time to good use.” I lean down and press a soft kiss to her neck, not bothering to explain that they wouldn’t be out here even if they had arrived.
“We only have thirty minutes before dinner,” she protests, weakly batting me away. I can tell she’s affected by me because her petite frame is still leaning against me, and I can feel her pulse racing under my lips, as her blonde hair tickles my face as it blows in the slight breeze.
“I called and changed the reservation. We have ninety minutes.” I follow the line of her jaw with my nose, stopping when I get to
her chin, and look up to see her light blue eyes shining brilliantly in the setting sun. It’s an image I know I won’t soon forget, if ever, and if I do, I will still remember the way her makes me feel like I’m freaking Superman.
I kiss her again, slowly this time and without the added distraction of traffic. I enjoy memorizing the warmth of Tressa’s lips and the way her body molds to mine in the most perfect of ways. I can feel her breasts against my chest, and her narrow hips fit perfectly against mine like two puzzle pieces. Languidly, I trace her parted lips and try to stop myself from smiling when she whimpers with frustration.
We shift as one until she’s leaning against the passenger door of my truck where I’m able to snake my hand around to her perfect ass for a groping I’ve been waiting to get in all day. She sucks in a breath as my fingers knead one firm ass cheek, and she grips my T-shirt tightly in her fist.
“Let’s go check in,” she whispers but doesn’t make a move to separate herself from me.
I want to. I constantly find myself having to test my self control when it comes to anything involving Tressa, and this time I do again as I weave my free hand into her short blond hair and pull her face closer to mine so that I can kiss her slowly, fully.
When I pull back from Tressa, her eyes are still closed, her body limp as she leans into me. Six months ago she refused to let herself go like this. To allow herself to get lost in a moment, lost in a kiss. I smile triumphantly, loving the fact that she trusts me so completely that she now remains lost for extended periods.
Scooping an arm under her legs, I pick her up and carry her toward the hotel, ignoring the few people that stare at us with interest. Tressa laughs, struggling against me so I’ll set her down. “What are you doing?”
