by Ember Leigh
We have finally moved out of my parents’ house and into our own wedding oasis. Lena sips happily on a margarita I made for the girls after dinner. I grab Kinsley’s hand, bringing her knuckles to my lips.
“This is beautiful,” Lena says. We’re all facing the lake. Water laps at the rocky beach about twenty feet away, and sailboats dot the horizon like a painting. The temperature is still warm but bordering on chilly while the sky begins the burnt transition to dusk.
“This is Bayshore,” I tell her. “Our lakeside Ohio oasis.”
“I’d come here every year,” Lena says. “In fact, maybe I could start tagging along on the yearly pilgrimage.” She slurps loudly at her margarita. “You got any other brothers you don’t know about that I could have?”
Kinsley snorts. “Who wants to place a bet that one of our fathers had a child out of wedlock and plans to blame it on the other family?”
Lena snickers. We’ve been rehashing all evening what went down inside Necessary Needles with Lena’s colorful support of how Kinsley stood up for our happiness. Personally, I’m glad she had the meltdown and confronted her mother. Now if there were only a way to convince our stubborn parents to actually bury the hatchet.
“Well, if you do find a spare Daly brother, send him my way,” Lena says. “Hell, I’ll even take a Daly cousin.”
“There’s plenty of those,” I tell her. “None quite as good looking, though.”
As if on cue, Maverick pulls into the short driveway at the side of the rental house. His door slams a moment later, and then he’s jogging toward the deck. When he shoots us all a big grin with a smooth “Hey, guys,” Lena’s brows immediately shoot to the sky.
“Maverick!” Kinsley pops out of her lounge chair and pulls him into a hug. “I’ve been wondering when you’d come around.”
“Just got back from a gig in Cleveland,” he says, settling onto an empty deck chair across from the three of us. He’s dressed in a simple black T-shirt and black cargo pants, the sign he’s come straight from the food truck. “Sorry if I smell like French fries.”
Lena is blinking impatiently at us, as though encouraging the introductions.
“Lena, meet Maverick. This is Connor’s youngest brother.” Kinsley watches her friend as Maverick leans forward to shake her hand, and then adds, “and I’m sorry to say, he’s taken.”
“Dammit,” Lena mutters. “Nice to meet you, Maverick.”
Mavericks sends us a confused look. “What now?”
“Lena’s looking for a spare Daly,” I tell my brother. “But we’ve all been snapped up.”
Maverick smiles, but it looks sad.
“You fixed things with Scarlett, right?” I ask him.
“Not yet.” He clears his throat, suddenly very interested in the laces of his shoes. “I gotta figure out where her troupe is going next. And then I’m flying there to surprise her, wherever it is.”
I can tell he’s nervous about it. I reach out to squeeze his shoulder. “You got this, bro. You two love each other so much. You have for years.”
He nods, running a hand through his dark locks. “You’re right. I just wish Lettie could be here this weekend. I really wanted to bring her to your wedding—hell, and Dom’s—but she’s with the troupe, and I’m not gonna press it.”
“You’ll show her the pictures,” Kinsley says, “and it will be glorious.”
“Besides, the important thing is that the two of you don’t miss your own wedding,” I add. “And trust me, we will all be there when Mr. Playboy Daly ties the knot.”
Maverick laughs. “You think we’re gonna get married?”
“There’s no other option for either of you,” I tell him. “Have you ever actually looked at yourselves? I know I don’t see you guys all the time, but I called it at Gray’s wedding in the spring.”
Maverick picks at a fingernail, a warm smile tugging at his lips as a lock of his hair dangles across his forehead.
“Yeah, that was pretty obvious,” Kinsley adds. “I actually thought you two had come together until Connor told me halfway through the reception that you’d brought a different date.”
I snort. “That poor girl.”
“If you guys keep this up, you’re going to force me to skip your wedding so I can go hunt Lettie down,” Mav warns.
“And this is why I want a Daly man,” Lena exclaims.
“Listen, you need something to drink,” Kinsley says, clapping her hands together. “I’ll go get you a margarita. What do you think?”
Mav agrees, and she heads into the kitchen. While she’s inside, Mav leans forward. “Dude, what’s this I hear about Kinsley’s dad trying to drown Gray?”
“That story gets better the further away from the source it gets,” Lena quips.
“He didn’t try to drown him,” I tell Mav. “But it was an insane morning. You should be glad you couldn’t come. In fact—” I reach for my phone and swipe to the camera roll. “Let me show you the one piece of photographic evidence I have from the day. The first and probably last attempt at a Daly-Cabana peace accord.”
Mav snickers as I scan the pictures. But something is off. I don’t recognize any of these photos. Something white snags my attention and I enlarge the photo.
And then Kinsley in her wedding dress fills the screen.
My eyes go wide, drinking her in. I’m assaulted by conflicting emotions. Holy shit she’s so gorgeous followed immediately by I shouldn’t be looking at this. What have I done?
I turn the phone off and set it back on the arm rest where I found it. New phones: 5, Connor & Kinsley: 0.
“What’s wrong?” Maverick asks.
“Nothing,” I say, picking up the other phone that looks exactly like mine. I blink rapidly as I open my own camera roll. What do I do now? Admit the gaffe? Gush to Kinsley how she looks even more like an angel I don’t deserve? My heart is pounding as I pull up the one photo Dom snagged from the fishing outing, and I show Maverick, who smiles and nods.
“Looks pretty fucking awkward,” he confirms.
“Awkward doesn’t cover it,” I say, forcing a laugh. “Maybe it would if we only had to deal with the projectile puking.”
Lena cackles. “I wish I could have been there.”
Kinsley breezes out of the house a moment later, and the sight of her strawberry blonde beauty makes my throat tighten. This is my future wife. And that dress…holy shit that dress…
“Here you go, Mav.” She hands him off a salt-rimmed margarita, then assesses our drinks. “Anybody need a refill?”
“I’m good for now,” Lena says. I can’t answer though, because I’m still overcome with emotion and confusion. Kinsley’s brows draw together as her gaze lands on me.
“Connor? Are you okay?”
I nod, leaning back into my chair. “Yeah. Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” If she knew that I accidentally saw her wedding dress, it will be just one more thing on top of her shit pile. But how can I keep that from her? The conundrum forms a gridlock inside my body.
“I don’t know. You look like you saw a ghost. Is our rental house haunted?”
“It’s those Lake Erie perch ghosts,” Maverick says grimly before he takes a sip of his drink.
“It…uh…” My gaze sweeps over her. I can’t do anything but imagine the big day now. Standing in front of the lake with her, as we marry in the gazebo, surrounded by friends and family. This is what all our planning has led to. The past three years of happiness will finally culminate in marriage.
“Are you crying?” she asks softly.
I massage my forehead. “No, I’m just thinking about Saturday. How good it’s gonna be.” I take her hands in mine and bring them to my lips. “I just love you so much, Kinsley. I can’t wait to marry you.”
She grins, sinking back into her deck chair.
“Definitely need a Daly man,” Lena says.
Kinsley reaches for her phone, swipes it open, and then freezes. She sends me a suspicious look, eyes narrowed, question
marks forming in the air between us.
“Connor,” she begins.
“I’ll get refills,” I offer. “In fact, I better just make a new batch. Your sisters will be here soon, after all.”
“Weston and Nova should be heading over soon, too,” Maverick says after checking his phone. “They landed in Cleveland about an hour ago.”
“Yeah. See? More margs.” I lean down to press a kiss to Kinsley’s forehead, but she dodges me, eyes still narrowed accusingly.
“Did you look at my pictures?” she asks point-blank.
My limbs go warm and tingly. I can already feel my face betraying me—the honey-sweet adoration overcoming me, the way my heart is melting just from beholding her in the golden rays of sunset.
“Sunny-kins,” I start, but I can’t fight the enormous smile that takes over my face. Shit. I didn’t expect to fall more in love with her just because of a dress. But it’s not just the dress. It’s the entire day. It’s what it stands for: our commitment, our future, our happiness.
“I didn’t mean to,” I finally say, but I can’t continue, because the smile won’t let me. And then the laughter comes. This is awful. But it’s so amazing.
Her mouth parts, both shock and amusement etching itself into her beautiful face. The face of my wife.
“You saw my wedding dress?” she screeches.
“I picked up my phone!” I blurt, pointing down at our phones, resting next to each other on the arm rest like a masochistic exercise in confusion. “But it was your phone. I wanted to show Maverick the picture from the boating trip—”
Kinsley covers her face with her hands and my stomach pitches to my feet. Both Lena and Mav are watching intently with grimaces on their faces. Shit shit shit. If I make her cry again, after the day she’s had, I’ll go find an Eternal Sunshine mind scrubbing procedure myself in advance of the wedding. But then I notice she’s not crying. She’s shaking. With laughter.
“Are you kidding me?” she says up toward the heavens, as though pleading with God himself.
“It was an honest mistake,” I tell her, gathering her into my arms. “And babe. Babe. Babe.” I press my forehead to hers and speak quietly so only she can hear this. “I have never seen a more gorgeous sight in my life. And yes, I shed a tear. Because you are the woman of my dreams. You are everything I’ve ever wanted and so much more. Let’s just call it our perfectly inappropriate good luck token in advance of the wedding.”
She’s shaking with silent laughter as she presses her lips to mine in a kiss. Then she cups my face in her hands, her periwinkle gaze searching my face.
“Honestly, I don’t even care at this point,” she says, sounding delirious. Or euphoric. Or maybe some new combination that only this wedding week could create. “My dad almost killed Gray—”
“That gets more dramatic every time for sure,” Lena cracks.
“I spilled mustard on my wedding dress,” Kinsley continues, “And now the groom has seen the dress two days before the wedding. Does anything matter anymore?”
My grin is ear-to-ear as I pull her tighter into my arms.
“I’ll just be happy when this wedding is over,” she confesses dreamily, stroking my cheek.
“Now that,” I tell her, pressing my forehead to hers, “is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”
Chapter 7
KINSLEY
Friday morning I’m awoken by Connor. Soft kisses to my spine. His thick arms wrapped around me. That delicious arousal pressed against my ass cheeks.
A smile drifts to my face, and I snuggle into him, wiggling my butt against him.
“You’re awake,” he murmurs, sinking his teeth into the side of my neck.
“Mmmm.” My nipples go hard instantly. Desire pools in my core, still as strong as it was in the beginning. He palms my hip, digging his fingers into the flesh there.
“This is our last day to have sex out of wedlock,” he reminds me. “We better take full advantage of it.”
“Oh my god, you’re right,” I mumble, turning to face him. His blue eyes are sharp with desire. “After tomorrow, there will be no more immoral and adulterous behavior between us.”
“Nope,” he says, his hands making hot trails over my hips. One slips between my legs, beneath the fabric of my panties. “We’re about to be legitimate. Law abiding. One hundred percent married.”
I giggle as he buries his face in the hollow of my neck. He swipes his hot fingers back and forth over my mound, teasing me. Impatience swells in me—I am usually the horniest right after I wake up—and I push him onto his back, slipping on top of him.
“Ohh, Kins.” He grabs at my ass cheeks, rooting me against him. My panties are damp already as our groins collide. We sleep in only our undies anymore, which leaves him free to run a hand up my waist before latching onto my breast. He tweaks a nipple as I rock back and forth on top of him. We are tuned in, connected, hopelessly in love. I grin down at him as our bodies follow the rhythm that only we know, that we have created with our love. He bites at his bottom lip, his gaze intense as he grinds the steel of his erection against me.
And then I’m up on my knees, pulling aside my panties while he works to free himself from the confines of his boxer briefs. His cock slides hot and hard against my slick folds, nudging and prodding my clit while I hover over him, desperate for him to line us up.
“Connor,” I groan, while he teases me. “Please. I need it.”
“I know you do,” he grunts, bracing me at the hip while he runs his cockhead back and forth over my clit. “I need it too, babe.”
And then he guides himself into place, his thickness pushing into me and I sink down, down around him. He stretches me as he always does, and the pleasure zips through me, hot and lurid, as though we haven’t done this thousands of times before. My nipples are stiff peaks as I claim every inch of him, sinking down until there’s nothing left for him to bury inside me.
His fingertips dig into the sides of my hips, mooring me as I rock against him. The feel of him filling me like this, so completely, always drives me to the edge extra fast. His eyes are heavy on me as I buck and grind, propping my palms against his chest as I drive myself higher and higher.
“Yesss, Kinsley,” he groans, snaking a hand between my legs. He rubs at me while I ride him. Sparks fly, my core tightens, and it isn’t long before I’m a whimpering, spasming mess on top of him. He grips my hips once I’ve fallen off the ride and keeps me moving against him, squeaking out the last dregs of my pleasure while he finds his own peak. His heat fills me, oozing out from between us, while we both pant to catch our breaths.
“That,” he finally says after we’ve been locked in stupefied bliss, “was extra immoral and adulterous.”
“I know it was,” I finally whisper, leaning down to kiss him. “I love you so much, Connor.”
He doesn’t let me go immediately, coaxing a few more kisses out of me before allowing me to peel myself off him. We get ourselves cleaned up and ready for the day. This is a big one—though not quite as big as tomorrow, which is the day—and I want to be on my game. I’ve got a potential matriarch clash scheduled at eleven a.m. at the nail salon. My mom, sisters, Lena, Annette, and a few others have all been invited to attend. If we can get through that unscathed, then it only puts more pressure on the rehearsal tonight for things to unravel. And I’m not going to be the sad sack melting down after a glass and a half of champagne. Not again. Not until tomorrow, at least.
Connor is humming while he dresses. I pick out a pair of leggings and a flowy top, and then check in with my phone, only to realize it’s Connor’s.
“When are we going to get phone cases?” I demand, reaching for the one that is actually my phone.
“We could start by changing our backgrounds,” he says from the bathroom.
“But I really like this picture as my background,” I tell him.
“So do I.”
I laugh to myself. This is where we always end up. “Okay,
so how about this? I’ll just put the picture of myself in the wedding dress as my lock screen so you can see it as many times as possible before our wedding day.”
Water splashes, followed by a gargle. Then he says, “Serious? Because I’m not opposed to that. In fact, once we’re married, that’ll probably be my lock screen for the next year.”
“We’ll have better pictures after the wedding, you know. You won’t need a photo from the day I got champagne drunk and let all our family skeletons out of the closet.”
“I like that moment better for our family history,” Connor says, coming out of the bathroom a moment later. “Besides, those skeletons are feisty. They’ve been cooped up in there too long. They needed some air.”
“Well, let’s just make sure they don’t slink back into the closet,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Now that they’re out, I want to make sure they roam free. Make a name for themselves. Become gainfully employed and shit like that.”
Connor strokes the side of my face. “Speaking of gainful employment…with all the drama of being home with family, I haven’t had any time to stress about our business.”
“Me neither.”
“I guess we should thank our parents for that, at least.” He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose.
“Yes. A feud so eternal and disruptive that we managed to forget entirely about our career.” I look down at the phones, one of which is mine, though I can’t tell right now. When I see the time, I sigh. “It’s time to get this last full adulterous day started, babe. The mani-pedi starts soon, and then we’ve got the rehearsal. Do you think we’ll make it out alive?”
“Probably,” he says. “And if we don’t, we’ve got a nice family of skeletons to live with in the closet.”
Chapter 8
KINSLEY
Time ticks onward, dragging me with it. I approach each new hour with cautious optimism, big smiles, and a healthy dose of suspicion. The matriarch mani-pedi comes and goes without incident, which feels like a Get Out of Jail Free card, only because Annette couldn’t come and most of us ladies were separated throughout different parts of the nail salon during the prettifying routines.
