What Happens at a Wedding: A Short Story Anthology

by Lucy Gage

  I shoulder-checked her. “Hey, at least the morning sickness stopped. Imagine how Branson would feel if his blushing bride upchucked at his feet.”

  Her eyes widened in horror, then relaxed with delight. “Thank goodness.”

  It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door. Amelia popped her head in and smiled warmly at my sister. “Are you ready to become my daughter?”

  Ariana, tears welling yet again, smoothed down her dress and stood. “I’ve never been ready for anything more.”

  The whole affair was somewhat of a whirlwind. As maid of honor and best man, Knox and I walked down the aisle together last, right before my sister would. The whole time I felt Shane’s eyes on me. I snuck a peek and saw him standing next to Cohen, filling out his tux like nobody’s business. My heart did a silly little flip-flop.

  Just as we were to the altar, Knox leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Why do I have the feeling we’ll be family one of these days?”

  When my head jerked up to look at him, his eyes danced with delight. I rose on my tiptoes and replied, “Because your cousin has been eye-fucking me and glaring at you since we began walking down the aisle?”

  With unceremonious amusement, Knox’s head fell back as he barked out a laugh. I glanced at his wife and saw her lips twitching as she shook her head at her dear husband.

  Knox patted my arm and deposited me right next to Charlie. “You’re gonna fit in around here.”

  A blush crept onto my cheeks, but it was forgotten the moment the music changed. Ellie Goulding’s “How Long Will I Love You” played as Ariana walked down the aisle towards her man. When I glanced at Branson, I saw his eyes glistening with tears, were locked in on my sister.

  I remembered when Ariana told me that the first time she heard this song two months ago, she knew there could be no more perfect song to transition to Branson Wellington’s wife. She’d wanted to surprise him with this song, and by the captivation on his face, she had done just that. The beautiful words were a promise to Branson, promising to love him as long as the stars remain, as long as the sea meets the sand; she would love him for forever.

  The two only had eyes for each other. As soon as she reached him, he cupped her face with both hands, his gaze burning into her. He murmured something, low, indiscernible, and I felt the urge to look away. The moment between them was so intimate, so breathtaking. And when his lips grazed hers, a shiver ran down my spine. Unexpected longing took root in my heart.

  I wanted that kind of love. I wanted that intimacy. I wanted all of it. I wondered if Shane carried that same devoted gene all the other Wellington men seemed to possess.

  At the thought of him, my eyes darted to where he stood. His eyes, hot and heavy, were already fixated on me.

  And that’s how we remained for the rest of the ceremony.

  Through the vows, the rings, the I do’s, even the pronouncement of man and wife, and permission for Branson to kiss the bride.

  Men, we don’t cry. Except for certain pivotal moments in our lives. Like getting kicked in the nuts. Seeing your firstborn right after your woman gave birth. And for Branson, it was when the love of your life, the woman who changed the game, walked towards him, placed her hand in his, and gave him her heart.

  Even I got a little choked up. So I fixed my gazed on the maid of honor and wondered…

  Could that be us?

  Two nights together, and apparently, I was ready to get down on one knee. How crazy would it be to speak up and ask if we could make this a double wedding? To tell Alyssa we needed to get on baby making as soon as possible so their cousins could be close in age.

  Everything I never thought I wanted, I suddenly did.

  I shook the thought out of my head. That was crazy talk. I figured I should probably take my future wife out on at least one—maybe two—dates before the whole, hey, wanna get hitched and have a kid or two? topic came up. Yeah, I needed to slow it down. Step wayyyyyyyyyyy back.

  Except at that exact moment, Alyssa’s eyes met mine. Fuck me, she was magnificent. And one of the most endearing qualities about her was she had no idea.

  The wedding passed in a blur. I couldn’t even tell you what either of them vowed to the other. It didn’t matter. Those words weren’t meant for me. But the girl across the aisle? She so was.

  “You may kiss the bride.”

  The words only registered because it meant the wedding was over. I was free. And Alyssa was only twenty feet away.

  I took two steps towards her when Knox placed a hand on my arms and raised a brow. “Not so fast, lover boy,” he drawled.

  My brow furrowed. “You’re one to talk. The fact that you already haven’t swooped up your wife has me wondering if you’re feverish.”

  Knox chuckled. “Took care of that before the ceremony. Why do you think I was late to get ready?” He paused, a content expression crossing his face. “God, that woman has a great appreciation for classic cars.”

  My hands covered my ears. “Let’s file that under things I don’t need to know. Also, congrats on getting me to leave you alone about taking joy rides in Evelyn.”

  Evelyn, his 1967 Mustang, was a perfect copy of Eleanor from Gone in 60 Seconds. She was his pride and joy, and I’d been begging him to let me take it out for a test drive. Well, he didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

  I started forward, and he once again stopped me. He gestured off behind me towards the photographer. When I caught his meaning, I groaned.

  I’d forgotten the whole, let’s take seventy-five hundred photos to commemorate the day. With a sigh, I trudged along for the next forty-five minutes until my jaw hurt from smiling way too much.

  Thankfully, the last of the photo shoot I had to partake in was the groom with his groomsmen. Branson put up with it for about five minutes, no doubt for Ari’s sake, and then he said he’d had enough.

  I couldn’t have been happier.

  My job here was done. It was time to find my girl, and officially make her mine.

  Except, when I found her, she wasn’t alone. Some jackass had his hand on her shoulder as she smiled at him.

  Who the fuck was that? And why was he touching my girl?

  I didn’t wait to find out.

  I didn’t know if it was the magic of the wedding or the magnitude of the emotional tidal wave Shane cascaded over me, but my heart yearned, just a little bit, for my own chance at love. At what my sister and Branson had. And I only wanted it with Shane.

  Our second night together only deepened our connection. The fervency in which I wanted—no, needed—that man astounded me. And yet, I no longer wanted to fight in. I wanted to give in. Jump in, feet first, blindfolded, because I trusted he’d be there to catch me.

  “You’re a vision,” a low, sultry voice whispered in my ear, interrupting my contemplation.

  I jumped in surprise, turning to see Bryan Price holding out a champagne flute to me.

  “The wedding was beautiful, Lyss,” he said, his finger and thumb coming to my chin and shaking it like I was a little kid.

  Bryan was my boss, and even though he’s only three years older than me, he treated me like a rookie. Which, okay, I was, and he did it with endearment.

  Bryan, boss and friend, had agreed to be my date for the wedding just three days ago when I’d experienced a mini freak-out at the thought of seeing Shane again. Bryan was supposed to be my buffer.

  After last night, and through all the craziness of today, I’d completely forgotten all about him, buffers, or anything that’d keep me from Shane Wellington’s bed.

  “You look surprised to see me, Covington,” he said, raising a brow.

  Understanding crossed his features when my own cheeks flushed. He chuckled, giving me a pat on the shoulder along with a head shake. “What’d I tell you, kid? Resistance is futile when it comes to love. The heart wants what the heart wants, and our sexual organs are much the same.”

  I choked on
the sip of champagne I’d just taken. “Did you just say sexual organs?”

  He shrugged. “I figured in this company,” he said, lifting his glass and gesturing to the wealth that oozed from the venue and its current inhabitants, “it was safer than saying pussy and dick. Which, I’m guessing I’m too late to stop you from succumbing to the latter.”

  My cheeks flamed at the memory of last night. If I was honest, my mouth also watered a little bit at the thought of a repeat performance.

  Just as I was about to retort, the dick in question walked up to us. I meant Shane, not that he’s a dick… I just couldn’t stop thinking about his.

  “Who’s this?” Shane asked, suspicion blatant on his face, his eyes frozen on Bryan’s crooked smile.

  I cleared my throat, swallowing a groan. I’d forgotten to tell Shane about Bryan. Hell, I’d forgotten about Bryan myself. And by the look on his face, Shane wasn’t pleased.

  “I, uh…” I stammered like a twit. I pointed at Bryan. “Um, this is my boss.”

  At the same time, ever so helpful, Bryan claimed, “I’m her date.”

  I turned to glare at him. “Boss and date,” he corrected with an annoying grin.

  Shane coughed, drawing my attention back to him. His brow furrowed, eyes brooding. The lips I had come to love were held in a tight line. The way his jaw clenched gave me the urge to reach out and stroke his cheek in hopes of helping him relax. He clearly had the wrong idea. I was such an idiot.

  “I see.”

  Two words I’d come to hate.

  Before I could explain, he turned on his heels and disappeared, out of sight without a blink.

  I stood there staring after him, mouth gaping, dumbstruck. Like I said, an idiot.

  My “date” nudged me with his shoulder. I turned to look at him.

  Bryan nodded in the direction Shane had gone. “Isn’t this when you run after him and tell him we’re just friends. I’m hopelessly in love with my best friend who pretends like we haven’t had explosive sex on several occasions.”

  Ah, the infamous Cori, Bryan’s roommate, best friend since college, and unrequited love. He’d spilled about her after a few beers one Friday Happy Hour after work. She’s why I knew he was a safe bet to be my platonic date. Not that there was anything wrong with Bryan. With thick, dark hair, and eyes (check eye color) that would melt the panties of the coldest ice queen, he was handsome in a boy-next-door kind of way. Just not my next door.

  “You’ll be okay without me?”

  He raised his glass. “An open bar, gorgeous women, and good music? I’ll be fine. Go get your guy.”

  I squeezed his arm. “Thanks, Bryan.”

  As if my feet were following his footsteps, I immediately went to the front porch, where, sure enough, Shane stood. He sipped what looked like whiskey—neat—with his free hand gripping the ledge. His back was to me, stiff and unmoving. I watched as his shoulders heaved, then lowered, as if he’d released a deep breath. I picked up my skirt, marching across the porch until I was directly behind him.

  “You’re the one running now?” I hissed, hands on my hips.

  He didn’t even turn to look at me. “Go back to your date, Alyssa.”

  The word was clipped, his voice gruff, and the hand that previously gripped the rail, now balled into a tight fist.

  “He’s not my date,” I said, scrambling to make him understand. “I mean, he’s my date, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

  At that, Shane whirled around to face me. His jaw held tight, his nostrils flared while his eyes, wild and widened, searched mine.

  I stepped closer, tentatively placing my hand on his arm, staring up into his gaze.

  “Shane,” I breathed out, “I’ve been impulsive my entire life. It’s just never gotten me into trouble. That is until I met you.”

  He frowned, so I quickly continued. “I knew you for all of fifteen minutes before I took you to my bed. Me! A virgin, still at twenty-three, gave it up to a charming, sexy as hell what I thought was pool boy without a second thought.”

  His lips twitched, their corners turning up. “Sexy as hell?” he asked.

  “You know you are. Anyways, I didn’t regret it. I swear. It was the best night of my life. It’s just… Like I said last night, I was terrified of the intensity of my pull to you. And when the opportunity arose, I ran.”

  “I should’ve been honest about who I was,” he whispered, causing me to shake my head in disagreement.

  “No, Shane, you weren’t dishonest. You just left out a few details. I used it as an excuse to push you away, and that was wrong. When I saw you at dinner, I still felt that pull. Hell, my attraction—that’s not strong enough of a word—my obsession with you was intoxicating. I couldn’t think straight being around you. I knew, if I came to this wedding alone, I wouldn’t be able to fight it anymore. I don’t even know why I wanted to.”

  Shane’s hand came to the curve of my neck. His thumb rubbed soothing circles as he gazed into my eyes. “I felt—I still feel—it, too. There’s this crazy invisible force drawing me to you. It should scare me, too, but Alyssa, it doesn’t.”

  My heartbeat quickened. Tears formed in my eyes. I took a step closer, not breaking eye contact. “Bryan’s just a friend. That’s all he’s ever been; all he’ll ever be. But you… God, Shane, you could be so much more than that, if you wanted to.”

  A corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. “I don’t know if it’s because the Wellington men are dropping like flies, and I’m the last one still standing, but dammit, sunshine. I don’t want to stand anymore. Not alone. Not without you.”

  I sucked in a breath, and he continued, his hand now cupping my cheek. “We barely know each other, and I don’t give a damn. I want to be with you. I want to explore whatever this is that we have. And I want to do it exclusively. You and me, no one else.”

  The rushed words sent my heart into a tailspin. “I want that, too. I really, really do,” I breathed.

  His forehead came to mine as he wrapped his arms around my waist, settling his hands on the curve of my ass. “This is real? We’re really doing this? We’re going to give it a shot.”

  I laughed as snow began to fall around us. “Yeah, Shane, I think we are.”

  He picked me up and twirled us around before setting me back on my toes. His mouth came down on mine, and he grinned against my lips.

  I moaned in protest when he pulled back. “We can go slow, at your pace, whatever you want.”

  Laughter bubbled up just as butterflies took flight in my belly. “I mean, I don’t think we’ll pull a Branson and Ari and wed in three months, but I don’t want to go slow. Not with you, Shane. I’m all in.”

  His answering smile dazzled and sent the butterflies soaring. “Thank fucking Christ, sunshine.”

  And that’s how Shane and I began our whirlwind romance.

  He led me back to the reception and pulled me into a tight embrace on the dance floor. We swayed to Let’s Be Still by The Head and the Heart, and when the singer warns that this may not last if you move too fast, I closed my eyes, laid my head against his chest, my heart hoping it wasn’t true. Because if it were up to me, our romance would never end.

  The End… for now

  Tessa Teevan is a book junkie who can’t find enough time in the day to read and write. She’s a research analyst by day, reads/writes by night, and is married to a guy 15 inches taller than her, making them quite the pair!

  They currently reside just outside of Dayton, OH with two adorably grumpy cats. If she’s not writing or scouring through tons of photos of hot men, all in the name of research, then you can probably find her curled up with her Kindle, ignoring the rest of the world. She loves her sports almost as much as she loves her books. Her other obsessions include red wine, hot men, rock music, and all things Corey Taylor.

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