by Layne Harper
“I want Mark to quit trying so hard to be my buddy again. I want my parents to get off my back about us living in sin. I want you to pick a fucking date to marry me. That’s what I want. What am I going to get? None of it, because I have to do another fucking interview to try to patch the gaping wound that is my life with a Band-Aid.” He drops his hands in defeat, and stalks out of the bathroom.
Sometimes, brutal honesty sucks.
I walk out of the bathroom and see him sitting in the formerly red chair. It doesn’t match the décor of Colin’s bedroom, but it’s been so important in our relationship that its function trumps beauty. I’ve already decided to have it re-covered for Colin’s birthday. It might have to go back to red.
“Are you mad at me?” I ask, quietly, as I lean against the doorjamb, and watch him from afar. The room is semi-dark casting Colin in a shadowed light. He’s staring out the bay window seemingly at nothing.
“I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me. If I could have kept my hands off of you for another week, and properly ended things with Sasha, maybe all of this wouldn’t have happened.” He makes big gestures with his arms, without looking at me, as if all of our problems are spread out before him like a fix-your-own-salad bar.
I walk over and sit on the edge of the bed. We’re maybe eight feet apart, but I still feel like he needs his space. It’s interesting that he’s bringing this up, because I’ve thought about it a lot, too. “If Sasha hadn’t granted the interview, we’d be fighting about where I live. You’d be manipulating me to move to Dallas. I’d be explaining to you that I can’t uproot my life in Houston to move in with you. We’d be burning up the road between Dallas and Houston, trying to see each other as much as possible, until your mistress came calling. You’d be frustrated, and angry that you can’t see me when you want. I’d feel guilty that I’m making you feel that way, and ultimately, we would’ve broken up again. Either I would have decided that it was for the best, or you’d have done something outrageous to get me to Dallas, and I’d have broken up with you anyway.”
Colin finally turns his head towards me and he looks like I just punched him in the gut, but then I see his face soften as the reality of my statement hits him. He knows that I’m right. Right now, our life really is a mess, but we’re together. No, it’s not ideal. But at least we have each other.
We sit in silence in our dark bedroom for a long time. I have nothing else to say, but I don’t want to move because I’m afraid he’ll think I’m pulling away from him, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
He finally stands up and walks to me. He reaches down and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. “Doctor Collins, you are my world. I take it all back. Everything that I said. As long as I’ve got a healthy you next to me every morning, the rest of this shit is just that—shit.”
We kiss, and his tongue begins to explore my mouth with just the right mixture of need, love, and lust. There’s a desperate edge to Colin, but it’s not the cold domineering man of the past week. I can tell my alternate universe scenario threw him off kilter. I try to reassure him with my tongue that we’re good, and that everything has turned out for the best.
He mumbles a quick apology as he enters me. I momentarily question what he’s apologizing for and then yelp from the sudden fullness. I reach down and still his hips giving me a moment to adjust to his sudden intrusion.
“You okay, baby?” he mumbles and he nibbles on my neck.
I begin to slide back and forth on his erection showing him that I’m more than okay. He flips me on top of him.
“That’s it, sweet girl. Ride me. Show me how much you need me.” His words slay me. I do need him. I need him to be my strong Colin. The man who loves me fiercely and keeps the rest of the world on his I don’t give a fuck list.
He tilts his hips up and allows me to rock back and forth on him – finding my own rhythm – bringing both of us to bliss.
When we’re both sated and I’ve snuggled into his side, Colin pulls me tightly against him. I rest my head on his muscular arm while we both stare at the ceiling. “Told ya to skip the middle man and just come to bed naked,” he says in his cocky, teasing voice.
I playfully punch him in the chest and choose to change the topic. “So who’ll be here at the brunch on Sunday?”
“You mean after the golf tournament?” He begins to play with my hair, which makes me want to purr.
“Yeah. Who usually comes?”
“Well, this year it’s a little different, because I’ve got you.” He kisses my temple. “Jenny sent invites to your mom and sisters. The Souths’ usually come. Aiden, of course. He asked if he could invite Rachael. Liza and Ty love the Domino Tournament, so they come. My parents. Some of my close friends on the team. Remember Quinn and Jennifer, from college?”
I nod my head. “They always come with their kids. You can invite anyone else that you want. I think Brad’s a given. Jenny comes and usually beats all of us, and goes home with the trophy.”
An idea that had been percolating in my brain since dinner takes form. “So basically it’s all the people that are the closest to us.”
Colin sounds almost defensive. “Well, yeah. It’s only the people that I consider family.”
“Here’s an idea.” I pause to collect my courage. “Feel free to tell me no, but what about if we get married at the brunch.” I drop the idea out there and wait for him to respond. I say it as if I’m proposing a trip to the grocery store, followed by the dry cleaners. I know that Colin’s already had the big church wedding, and I could care less about all the wedding trimmings. It seems like a great idea to me.
He’s quiet for a moment, before he says, “You mean get married at our house, that you hate?”
“I don’t hate our house. It’s just ostentatious and cold. But at least it’s our place, where we live. If we got married at a church, it would just be a building. We’ve started making memories here.” I reason.
“Would you wear a wedding dress?”
“I don’t know. Look, it was just a thought. If everyone’s already going to be in town who we’d invite to our wedding, why not do it on Sunday? We can keep it a surprise, so there’s no chance of the paparazzi crashing it.”
“Let me think about it,” he says. I can hear the trepidation in his voice. I glance at his face, and see the lines tighten around his eyes. After a few minutes, he says, “I guess I always thought I’d give you a dream wedding. A no expense spared kind of evening. Getting married at home just seems like I’m shortchanging you.” Colin rubs my arm, as if to soothe me.
I lean up on my elbow so I can see him. “Colin, it’s like Rachael said. I’m missing the wedding gene. When I look at bridal magazines, I want to throw up. The thought of everyone staring at me while I walk down the aisle literally is enough to make me have a panic attack.” At just the mention of a big wedding, I can feel my heart rate increasing. “I will not feel shortchanged if we get married here. In fact, I’ll be more relaxed, so I might actually enjoy it, instead of counting down the hours until I can leave. Besides, if I do regret not having a big wedding, we can always have one celebrating our ten-year anniversary.”
I watch his eyes soften from concern to happiness. “Oh, Doctor Collins, I love the sound of a ten-year anniversary.” He kisses my mouth, and picks up my left hand to kiss my ring. “You really feel that way? You know you’ve got about twelve days to pull it together.” If he’s trying to talk me out of it, he’s failing. The more I think about it, the more perfect a wedding at our home sounds.
“The best assistant in the world, Jenny and I can do it. I’ll have to tell my dad what’s going on to ensure that he’ll come, and I might have to tell Rachael also. Let’s do it, Colin. This is the one thing in our lives that we can own. This can be our story. This is the wedding that I want,” I say, as I crawl up on top of him, straddling his waist.
“If you’re happy, I’m happy. In twelve days, you’ll be Doctor Caroline McKinney. I like it.”
&nbs
p; That leads to us playing Colin’s favorite game. Each part of me is sampled, and my new names are tried out against my skin. For the first time, in a very long time, I fall asleep excited about tomorrow.
Chapter Seven
Colin
Another golf tournament is in the books. Colin McKinney’s annual charity golf tournament to raise awareness about organ donation, specifically in children, was another huge success. The who’s who of the entertainment and sporting world rubbed shoulders with a former president, and presidential hopeful Langford Jones.
* * * *
Trouble in CharCol paradise? Colin was photographed with his arm around model Lucinda Montally. The two were rumored to be a couple before his relationship with Sasha Stone. Sources are reporting that he also gave Lucinda extra help with her golf swing. Colin and Charlie did not stay long at the after party, leaving shortly after arriving. Pretty soon, we’re going to need a flow chart to keep up with Colin’s women.
Charlie and I’ve been up since six o’clock this morning, working like crazy to make sure that everything’s ready for the wedding. Brad is in a frenzy, and Jenny’s dyed her hair white for the occasion and is sipping a latte. Everyone should start arriving in about thirty minutes. My mom came over last night, not having any idea that she was preparing her son’s reception brunch, and premade a lot of the food. Charlie and her sisters helped a lot. I think, for the first time, my mom might have seen the benefits of Charlie and her huge family.
The last twelve days have been the longest days of my life. I went on Jimmy Kimmel Live, and I have to admit, it was actually kind of fun. Jimmy treated me well, made a few jokes at my expense, and they actually made me laugh. He kept Charlie out of it, so I was good. I told my side of the story about walking out of the Espy Awards. I basically said that I’m a public figure. It’s okay to make cracks about me, but Doctor Collins is off-limits. Family should be off-limits. I mean, it’s not Charlie’s fault that I live my life broadcasted on ESPN Sports Center. The audience applauded. I answered questions about the prescription painkiller abuse allegations. Apparently I did a good enough job, because it was the highest ratings that the show had enjoyed in its history. My sponsors are happy again. My team is pleased with me, and the media seems to have backed the fuck off.
According to Mark, I’ve picked up a whole legion of new female fans that find my actions “swoon worthy” (Mark’s words not mine). After the show aired, I called Mark, and thanked him for his sound advice and asked him to send me a bill for his time. He said that it was his pleasure, and we agreed to meet later in the month to discuss a working relationship again.
There was more media presence than usual at my golf tournament. Hopefully, my troubles have shed some light on my charity, that I hold near and dear to my heart. I invited the kid, Colton, who inspired this so many years ago, to join us as my honorary guest. He’s now twenty-one and was drinking a beer. His new heart is working great, and he’s a junior at Texas A&M. It doesn’t even seem like that many years have passed.
Charlie and I skipped out early on the golf tournament after-party last night. She teased me about leaving my own bachelor party early. Why would I want to hang out with a bunch of ugly, smelly, guys when I could be deep inside my girl? Instead, I teased her back.
“I’ve got to make sure that you aren’t a runaway bride.” That earned me a punch in the arm.
Right now, she’s in the bathroom with Brad getting dressed while I’ve, once again, been relegated to my now clean and organized study. I have to admit, it’s pretty nice not tripping over all the piles of stuff on the floor.
Brad handed me a pair of khaki shorts and a white linen shirt and told me to put them on. Total dress time for my wedding? About fifteen minutes, and that includes showering and shaving. Just one of the benefits of being a male.
Charlie promised me last night that I could see her before everyone arrived. It’s not like I’m a pussy, or anything, but I don’t want to get all emotional in front of everybody. I look down at my ring. I can’t fucking believe that today is the day I really get my girl.
As I’m sitting there, spinning it on my finger, I hear her clear her throat. I look up and see a fucking angel. My breath gets caught in my chest—or maybe it’s a knot—but, whatever it is, it prevents me from breathing.
She’s standing there in a white linen strapless sundress that comes just above her knees. Her caramel-colored hair is down, and in some sort of loose waves. She doesn’t have all that makeup and crap on her face like she did for the Espy Awards. She looks like Charlie, not the dolled up version of Charlie. Then, I notice that she’s wearing the diamond earrings that I gave her, and she has on her Rolex that matches mine. Her infinity necklace is lying just above her cleavage, and I’m suddenly jealous of a damn necklace.
I stand up, and walk to her, as I drink her in. I’m trying to take mental photographs so I’ll never forget this moment and how she looks. This is real, and she is mine. No pretending.
The best and most poetic words that I can think to say to her are, “Wow! You look like a fucking dream.”
She giggles, her precious little laugh, and says, “You aren’t half bad yourself, handsome.” Her eyes dance as they linger a beat too long on my groin. “So, how did you get away with shorts for our wedding?” she teases.
“Because I’m the luckiest son of a bitch alive,” I reply as I pull her to me. She smells like Charlie, which is the best smell ever. I place a kiss on her shoulder, not wanting to break the moment, but I know that our guests will be here shortly. “Let’s do this, baby.”
“I’ve never been more ready in my life,” she reassures me, and kisses my cheek. I take her hand, not wanting to lose her touch, and lead her into the foyer.
Brad greets us, dressed all in black. “What’s with the costume, Johnny Cash?” I quip.
Brad gives me a stupid look. “I’m the officiate, and as the officiate, I think I should stand out.”
“Fair enough,” I reply. Brad went online and got his marriage license through the American Fellowship Church. I checked, and re-checked. Yes. It’s legal. Brad actually does have the authority to marry us. God, help my marriage.
My mom and dad are the first to arrive. Our all-white appearance doesn’t even make them pause. Mom’s too busy rushing to my kitchen to get the bacon and sausages started. Next to arrive is Charlie’s mom and three oldest sisters. Once again, they aren’t tipped off by our dress. Charlie’s mom needs to get her famous Coca-Cola chocolate cake in the oven so it can start baking while her sisters are walking around, checking out my house.
This is how the rest of the arrivals go. I note to Charlie that our friends and family are fucking clueless. She just laughs, and gives me a knowing look.
Charlie’s dad and step-mom are the last to arrive. Charlie had to tell them about the surprise wedding so they would come. Carmen gives her a big hug, and makes her way into the living room with the rest of our guests. Charlie asks her dad to wait for her in our bedroom.
Charlie was pleasantly surprised that her dad took the news of the wedding so well. I had been prepared to make another trip to Houston to discuss it with him, if he’d been ugly to her. Fortunately, my trip wasn’t needed.
Jamie, my security guy, pulls me aside, and reassures me that the extra security that we’ve hired is in place, and so far, it doesn’t look like the media has been tipped off.
I clear my throat and get everyone’s attention. Most everyone here has been to my brunch before expect for Charlie’s family and friends. Our guests show limited interest in what I’m about to say expecting me to tell them that brunch is ready.
“So, I figured it out last night,” I begin, once our guests are quiet. “This is my seventh annual brunch and domino tournament. However, this is Caroline’s first,” I say, giving her my half smile that I know that she loves. She’s standing next to me, and I reach down and grab her hand. “I thought, ‘How can I make this more special for her? You know, memorable.’ And I
think that I came up with the perfect idea. This might be our seventh annual brunch, but it’s also our first—and only—wedding day.”
I look down at my girl. She blushes a beautiful shade of pink while a collective gasp passes over our guests. “If you would please make your way outside, it’s time for me to make Doctor Collins my wife.”
My poor mother stares helplessly at the frying pan. “What about my bacon?”
I smirk. “I’m sure you can move it off the stove while you attend my wedding.”
Our guests scream and holler, and yell congratulations. The air becomes charged with happy energy. I love it. It’s such a stark contrast to my first wedding. Everyone is casually dressed, and excited to be there. I can tell from the way they’re rushing and pushing to get outside. Unlike at my first wedding, I’m getting high fives and fist bumps. Charlie’s right. This is fucking perfect.
Soon, the house has emptied, and through the glass doors I can see Jenny directing everyone where to stand, and making an aisle for Charlie to walk down.
It’s the just the two of us. Alone. “Are you ready to be my wife?”
I can’t even believe that I asked the question. I mentally kick myself. I’ve certainly given her enough reasons to say no.
“The answer is yes, and will always be yes.” She smiles at me, a huge toothy grin, that makes me feel all warm inside.
I pull her to me and give her one final kiss as Charlie Collins, before she’s officially my wife. The next time my lips touch hers, she’ll be Charlie McKinney. I feel her body against me. I can’t believe that we’re doing this, and that this wonderful woman is mine. For the last eight years of my life, every single female I met was compared to her. Now, I have the real thing. Her. Mine. Forever.
Charlie stands on her tiptoes as she pulls me closer to her, so she can whisper in my ear. “I’ll see you at the end of the aisle, handsome. By the way, I didn’t start my new pack of pills this month.”
