Текст книги "I Do"

Автор книги: A. J. Pine

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Griffin

Maggie was already gone by the time Griffin had finished his pint with Duncan and Noah. She’d texted, though.

The bridal party is getting ready at Elaina’s. Jordan said I could tag along.

Griffin’s Rocky soundtrack came to a screeching halt. He’d been buoyed with confidence not only from his ridiculous playlist but from the other guys as well. They’d all gotten themselves into messes, yet each man had been well intentioned in doing so.

Yes, he should have told Maggie what he was doing from the start, and he shouldn’t have put her in some virtual breakables cabinet. She was stronger than that, and he knew it. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to protect her now and always. Nothing…nothing was more important to him than the girl who trusted him to be the man he’d always hoped he could be.

That was it—he had to convince her to trust him again, and with Maggie that meant only one thing: total and utter honesty about why he wasn’t honest. Of course he would always worry about Maggie getting sick again, but that could happen anywhere. Her health wasn’t the reason he’d kept the fellowship from her. He was scared of moving so far out of his safety zone in order to chase a dream he only realized he had once he met her, but that wasn’t it, either. The biggest fear, the one that cost Griffin her trust, was that he didn’t want any of it if it meant a life without her. It wasn’t fair to put the responsibility for his happiness on her shoulders, not when she already carried so much. So he’d have to show Maggie that her burdens and responsibilities weren’t hers alone anymore. That was the deal, the fine print on the contract of what it meant to love someone the way he loved her. It was time to lay his half of the deck on the table and hope that Maggie was all in, too.

Noah

Noah found the small velvet box in his toiletry bag. He knew Jordan wouldn’t be there when he returned. The bridal party was due at Elaina’s at the same time he was having his morning pint. But his gut twisted at the sight of the ring back in his possession. Had he really fucked up this badly? If Jordan’s yes was now a no, he wasn’t sure he could take it. They’d come too far for him to have done irreparable damage. He had to believe that much because the alternative was unthinkable.

The whole point of this trip was to replace painful memories with positive ones, but that had already backfired.

Noah opened the box and found not just the ring but also a note.

Noah—

I wanted to wear it. I really did. But it felt strange. If last night wasn’t how you wanted things to go, then I don’t want to wear it…yet. This isn’t just my moment. It’s yours, too. And I should have realized that. I hope you know that I would say yes anywhere, anytime, as long as it was you asking. So I’ll wait until it’s right for you. I’m not going anywhere.

I love you.

Jordan

He bit the inside of his cheek and swallowed back the knot in his throat. He was supposed to be the one with the grand gesture, and here was Jordan Brooks, surprising him yet again. What had he done to deserve this beautiful, understanding, patient, perfect woman? And why the hell wasn’t she here so he could take it all back, tell her he’d been ready since Scotland?

He called her cell. Right to voicemail.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

He’d see her at the church, but when or how could they talk? He wasn’t going to propose to her while they were walking down the aisle. It was bad enough his first proposal stole the thunder from Duncan and Elaina’s rehearsal dinner. He wasn’t going to upstage the wedding as well.

The reception. He could do it at the reception. He had to do it before midnight. Noah would not start the New Year without his fiancée wearing her ring.

His phone buzzed with a text, and Noah saw Griffin’s name on the screen.

Ready? Duncan has a taxi waiting.

Hell yes, he was ready. And this time he’d get everything right.

Miles

Miles straightened his tie and double-checked once more to make sure his pants were zipped. This was not the Miles Parker he’d cultivated for years. Nervous and unsure—those adjectives didn’t suit him, yet here he was, suited up in formalwear and insecurity.

But damn. He did look good. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was all these feelings—because Miles didn’t do feelings. But he was having them anyway, which was ridiculous because he’d met Alex only yesterday.

Pull yourself together. He lives in Greece. And if he didn’t, he’d be just like every other person you’ve dated who wanted to put you in a neat little box.

Gay. Straight. Those boxes couldn’t contain him. It was easier to box up his heart than try to prove to any one lover that he was who he was.

Miles pulled on his jacket and took one last glance in the mirror. Nothing like a polished exterior to hide what’s underneath. Maggie used to be the only person who could see right through him, but somehow Alex had gotten a glimpse of what lay beneath the surface. All it would take was a couple of drinks at the reception, and he could slip back into the persona everyone expected. He did many things well, and proving himself the life of the party was one of them, so that would be his role tonight. The life of the party never went home broken-hearted, right?

Tonight he was banking on that theory being true.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Duncan

The Greek Orthodox ceremony, long as it was, felt like a blur. Somehow Duncan was standing in the church, face-to-face with Elaina, as the priest placed rings on the fingers of their right hands. A red carpet stretched down the whole aisle, and Duncan raised his head to take in the ornate murals painted along the ceiling. Before him stood his bride in ivory lace, her shoulders wrapped in the rich hue of the tartan scarf he’d fought so hard to save.

Duncan had never been anywhere like this place, and he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as the woman before him. It was something out of the colored pages of a history book, and now this would be a part of his history—and the start of his future. Their future.

Thea, Elaina’s Koumbara, stepped forward on the priest’s request and exchanged the rings three times. The next thing he knew, he was wearing a crown and sharing a cup of wine with his wife.

He needed a moment to collect himself, so he sipped slowly and watched as Elaina did the same. God, she was beautiful. Did he tell her that enough? Did she know that his breath caught at the sight of her, not just today but every time he looked at her and realized she’d chosen him? All of his fear and hesitation disintegrated into dust. Yesterday morning he’d seen a strange city that felt nothing like the only home he’d ever known. Today he saw a future, a family, a life he never knew he wanted, yet one he now cherished above everything else. Duncan hadn’t chased that man through the airport to save a scarf. It was to save this—Elaina looking at him, loving him, bruises and all. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve this kind of happiness, but he’d spend the rest of his life grateful that he’d found it.

“We did it,” he whispered, a catch in his voice he wasn’t expecting.

Elaina promptly shushed him but then smiled, and he had to bite back a laugh. He would not ruin the solemnity of the ceremony. It was important to her to get married in the Greek church, and Duncan was happy to oblige. She wore a sixpence in her shoe and hid a sprig of white heather in her bouquet, both Scottish good luck charms. And the wedding scarf bore his family’s tartan. At the moment, he couldn’t ask for more, but when they got to the other end of the aisle? Well—he had plans.

The priest faced Duncan specifically. “Be magnified, O Bridegroom, as Abraham, and blessed as Isaac, and increased as was Jacob. Go your way in peace, performing in righteousness the commandments of God.”

To Elaina he said, “And you, O Bride, be magnified as was Sarah, and rejoiced as was Rebecca, and increased as Rachel, being glad in your husband, keeping the paths of the Law, for so God is well pleased.”

This was it. They were getting close. All that would be left after this would be to celebrate the first best day of his life.

One by one, the priest removed each crown before speaking his final words to the now married couple.

“Accept their crowns in Your Kingdom unsoiled and undefiled; and preserve them without offense to the ages of ages.”

Duncan looked to his right and saw Griffin, Noah, and family members who made up the rest of the groomsmen in full McAllister tartan. To his left stood Thea and Jordan and many other cousins in various styled dresses, all in the same ruby hue as Elaina’s scarf. Everyone he cared for was here, and the one he loved most was beside him, her hand in his, as the priest sent them forward.

Like a queen, his queen, Elaina glided down the aisle on his arm. He was her husband now. Her forever king. He had been wearing a crown, after all.

The entire congregation clapped as they made their way toward the exit. But just as they passed the last pew to the open, arched doorway, Duncan halted his step.

“What are you doing?” Elaina hissed under her breath as she nearly tripped over her wedding gown.

“Look up,” he whispered, and she did. Elaina’s eyes widened, and she broke into the most radiant grin he’d ever seen.

Mistletoe.

He’d remembered the Valentine’s Day in Aberdeen when Elaina strung the plant all over the Blue Lantern, the pub where she worked. It had been her attempt to get Jordan and Noah back together, to hang the plant that encouraged snogging.

Right now, Duncan considered himself encouraged.

He wrapped his arm beneath his wife’s shoulder blades and lowered her into a dramatic dip that preceded the long-awaited kiss.

Elaina didn’t argue. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

And kissed him…and kissed him…and kissed him.

“Wait!” He pulled away from her, agonizing as it was. Something wasn’t right.

Her brows furrowed as she straightened to meet his gaze. “What?” she hissed in as much of a whisper as she could. “Everyone is watching!”

He looked out at the congregation, silenced, no doubt, by the abrupt end to the couple’s kiss. She was right. All eyes were on them.

Duncan held up his index finger, asking their audience to wait.

“There weren’t vows. The priest didn’t ask me if I take you to be mine.”

Elaina rolled her eyes. “Father Markos explained the ceremony to you—the rings, crowns, prayers. We’re married.”

He nodded. “Aye. I just thought the vows came after all that. Just– Do you promise to love me always, forgive my messes, and trust that I’ll always do right by you?”

At this, her eyes softened. And he saw out of his peripheral vision that congregants at the far end were starting to creep out of their pews, inching forward to listen to the impromptu second wedding that was happening under a sprig of mistletoe.

“Oh, Duncan,” she said. “Of course I do.”

He grinned. “Now ask me.”

She bit her lip, smiling as well.

“Do you promise to love me always, forgive my tendency to be a little judgmental, and trust that I’ll always do right by you?”

He grabbed both of her hands, kissing the top of each before turning toward their onlookers and shouting, “I do!”

Now everything felt right, and he wrapped his arms around her and kissed his bride again.

“I love you, Duncan McAllister.” Her words were muffled by the catcalls of the wedding guests, but Duncan heard her, and that’s all that mattered.

“And I love you, Elaina McAllister.”

He took her hand in his, and they ran the rest of the way out of the church. They’d have to run right back in as soon as the place emptied—for an hour or two more of photographs—but for now they had a few quiet moments to themselves.

The sun shone bright, warming Duncan’s face despite the cooler temperatures. In the distance he could see the parapets atop the cylindrical White Tower. Elaina’s history. Their future.

He lifted her in his arms, kissing her as she slid down the length of his body and back to the ground. He felt five miles above the earth, though, and he didn’t think he’d ever come down.

“Say it again,” she said, and he grinned.

“I love you, Elaina McAllister.” He kissed her cheek.

“Again,” she whispered.

He kissed her chin. “Elaina…” And then her neck. “McAllister.”

“Please,” she started, and he could hear the shortness of her breath. “Don’t ever stop.”

He chuckled. “Kissing you or saying your new name?”

“Both,” she said, taking his cheeks in her palms. “Both. Always.”

Then her lips were on his, and Duncan wasn’t sure he’d ever come back down to earth again.

The crowd erupted from the cathedral, and he knew he had just enough time for one more—for good measure.

He moved behind her so they both faced the entrance, wrapping his arms around her torso and kissing the exposed skin below her neck. “Elaina McAllister.”

The roar of the crowd reached them at last. The rest of the day and night belonged to those who came to celebrate the happy couple, but tonight—tonight the king had plans for his queen.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jordan

All those hours together at the ceremony, and taking pictures after, and Noah had barely said a word to her. He’d readily linked his arm with hers for their walk down the aisle, but in all of the craziness, that was their only time alone. Had he found her note? Or was he retracting his offer altogether?

When their limo hadn’t shown, Elaina’s father ushered the wedding party onto a city bus, women first, as if they were escaping the Titanic instead of riding public transportation in formal wear, which meant once again she couldn’t get close enough to Noah to have one simple conversation.

Officially, the reception didn’t start until early evening. Unofficially, anyone who entered the restaurant would be fed and taken care of. All Jordan wanted was a break. And a few minutes alone with Noah at the very least.

Once inside the restaurant, she waited, anxiously watching guests pour in through the doors.

“Looking for someone?”

Griffin appeared at her side, a familiar face, but no. Not the one she was looking for.

“As a matter of fact I am,” she said, then nodded toward the doorway where Maggie stood outside talking to Miles. “Maybe you can change her mind.”

He sighed. “She told you about Washington?”

“Yep.”

“And you don’t think I’ve completely ruined everything?” he asked.

Jordan laughed. “I’m a hopeless romantic,” she said. “I think if you guys love each other like I know you do, there’s always a way to fix it.”

She could believe that about other people. Easily. But was simply loving each other enough for her and Noah? Wouldn’t he be with her now if it was?

Maggie stood just outside the glass door. Jordan and Griffin watched Miles kiss her on the cheek before disappearing down the sidewalk, but he didn’t follow her inside. Jordan guessed he had other things to take care of, things involving a certain Greek chef, and this made her smile.

“You don’t know where Noah went, do you?” she asked Griffin before she lost his attention completely.

“Not since he got off the bus. I’m sorry.”

Jordan could feel his urgency to get to Maggie.

“Go,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

And that’s all it took. Griffin left her side to make his way to Maggie’s. Jordan took one last scan of the room and decided she wasn’t quite ready to celebrate yet. As Griffin stepped outside to meet Maggie, Jordan offered a quick hello and slipped out the door.

It took her seven times to get the key card to work. Seven. Which was the perfect icing on a cake layered with frustration. Noah couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone? Maybe send her a quick little text letting her know he hadn’t been kidnapped and transplanted to some Greek isle where he was now in the hands of an evil yet beautiful island queen who he at first despised but after enough time with her learned to love?

Oh God. Her jet lag was making her delirious. She could pee, take a quick nap, and still make it to the official reception with time to spare.

Jordan tapped the light switch she knew was on the wall just inside the door, but nothing happened. In fact, for all the mid-afternoon sun, the hotel room was pitch black, as if there were no windows at all. Great. She’d have to feel her way along the furniture to make it to the bed lamp.

She kicked off her heels and shuffled along the floor.

“Ow. Dammit!”

Well, at least she found the nightstand. She bent to grab her throbbing toe, and after a couple of hops toppled butt-first, thankfully, onto the bed. When she flipped the lamp’s switch, a warm glow illuminated the cave-like space, and the first thing she saw was a copy of E.M. Forster’s A Room with a View next to the base of the lamp. No—it was her copy of the book, but she hadn’t packed it, opting for her phone’s e-reader app over a suitcase full of books.

“I don’t…” Jordan ran her hand along the worn spine and finally took the object into her hands, knowing that somehow she was meant to look beyond the cover. Inside there was a Post-it, and on it only four words: This isn’t a proposal.

Jordan laughed and then inhaled a hitching breath.

“Noah?” she whispered, half afraid he was going to jump out of a closet or something and make her pee her pants, but he didn’t answer.

On instinct she scooted over to the other side of the bed and turned on that lamp. On the bedside table lay her copy of Pride and Prejudice. She opened to the title page, and on it she found another Post-it: Because I already asked, and you said yes. Only men who are refused have to ask twice. *cough cough* Mr. Darcy *cough*

Jordan almost choked on the combination laugh/sob that tried to escape from her throat.

“Noah,” she pleaded. “Where are you?”

She heard the familiar buzz of her phone, alerting her to a text. She found her purse on the floor between the door and the bed, and she scrambled to read what she knew was from him: Open the curtains.

Jordan tried to run, but she was limping now, the toe-stubbing possibly a bigger issue than she’d originally thought, but there was no time to worry about injury when what she’d been looking for all day was hopefully on the balcony.

Drawing the curtains not only lit up the room, but it also lit up her heart. Because there stood Noah—jacket and tie gone but still in his button-down and kilt, a small velvet box in his open palm and a sprig of mistletoe held over his head. She could barely see through the blur of tears, but she was able to find the handle to the sliding balcony door and gave it a swift yank.

And the freaking thing didn’t budge.

She watched Noah attempt to maintain his calm, but his eyes darted right and left, taking in the confines of the space. The small space. It may have been partially outdoors, but Jordan knew how Noah’s mind played tricks on him if he got into a panic. In its altered state, Noah’s brain could make him believe he was trapped even if he wasn’t, and while she watched in horror waiting for him to cross that threshold, he began to laugh.

Great. He was already there, alone, and this was all her fault. She would never forgive herself for ruining this trip for him, for ruining their engagement, and—were his lips moving?

Jordan swiped the back of her arm over her eyes and focused on Noah’s voice because the door wasn’t made of soundproof glass, after all.

“Brooks,” he started, and she could still make out the laughter in his tone. “Unlock the door.”

What? “How did you get out there if the door is locked?” she asked, though when she put her thumb and forefinger over the small latch and tugged it down, she felt the lock give way, and the door slid open with ease.

“This is us we’re talking about. We do things the messy way. I’ve got the scar on my palm to prove it, and I seem to remember one on your forehead as well.”

“It’s possible I just broke my toe,” she added, “but who’s keeping score?” She took one hobbling step forward, and Noah shook his head.

His smile fell as he dropped the mistletoe and reached for her hand.

“Shit,” he said. “The room was too dark.”

He helped her back toward the bed and sat her down, kneeling to take her injured foot in his hand.

“How’d you know I’d come back to the room?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I didn’t. After your note, though, I guess I bet on you wanting to find me. Good thing I was right or I’d have probably been out there until after the reception.” He laughed quietly. “God, Brooks. I just wanted to give you the perfect proposal—a perfect memory to kind of, I don’t know, replace the painful ones from the last time we were in Europe.”

Her hands reached for his face, and she urged him up on the bed next to her.

“Is that what this is about? You think I regret anything about the year we met?”

That little spot above his nose crinkled, and she wanted to kiss his adorable confusion away.

“Don’t you?” he asked. “It’s because of me we spent so much time apart that year.”

She crossed her arms. This stubborn, wonderful man. When was he going to get it?

“Do you regret that year?”

He shook his head. “I met you.”

“Then why would it be any different for me?” she asked, and he opened his mouth to say something, but she wasn’t done. “Our road may have been a bumpy one, Noah. And maybe it still is from time to time. But it’s our road. Do you get that? I can’t regret anything that was on the path that led me to this moment—to the man I love wanting to spend the rest of his life with me.”

She kissed his forehead. “Nothing, Noah. I regret nothing.”

He let out a long sigh. It killed her to think that for three years he’d been carrying this with him, that he’d ever doubted how she felt about what she considered one of the best years of her life because it was the experience that brought her to him.

He pulled her legs over his, and he pushed up the narrow skirt of her dress so he could bend her knee. She winced when she saw the swollen pinkie toe on her left foot, but the heat of the pain turned to something else entirely when Noah pressed his lips to the top of her foot, then her ankle. Her calf. The bend of her knee.

“I’m sorry for making you think last night was anything other than our version of perfect,” he said, lips still traveling farther up her thigh. “I love you.” More kisses. “God, I love you.”

“I love you, too. So much,” she said, her head falling back onto the pillow. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

He had already made it to the spot where her thigh and hip met, and Noah was getting dangerously close to rendering her speechless as he peppered kisses down the edge of her panties.

“I think,” he started, kicking off his shoes, and then surprising her by sliding his thumb along that same border, lifting the lace away from her skin and allowing his tongue to startle her with a quick flick against her swollen center.

Jordan gasped, and he peeked up from between her legs, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“I think we can find a way to make it up to each other,” he said, and then dipped his head again.

“Wait!” Jordan cried, and his head bobbed up, that adorable crinkle between his brows present once more. “The ring,” she said. “My ring. If this isn’t a proposal, we’re already engaged, right?”

Noah’s face broke into a smile, and he nodded while his other hand produced the small box. He popped it open with the flick of his thumb while his other thumb massaged the slick spot where his tongue had just been.

Jordan squirmed because, shit, she didn’t want him to stop, but first things first.

She held out her left hand, and Noah dropped the box onto her belly, maneuvering the ring out with one hand so his other could stay otherwise occupied. As soon as the ring was back in its rightful place, Jordan fisted both her hands in Noah’s hair, and he gave her one last grin before his face dropped out of view.

He wasted no time freeing Jordan of her underwear, spreading her wide to take his fill.

His tongue swirled around her outside while two fingers slid in, and Jordan bucked against the maddening pleasure, her heated belly coiled tight and ready to explode.

“God, Noah, I’m not going to last if you don’t slow down.” She gasped with every word, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to ease up or bring her the fuck home, and then somewhere in her state she remembered that this gorgeous man between her legs was wearing a skirt, too.

“What’s under the kilt?” she asked, and that stopped Noah in his tracks. He pushed himself up so his eyes met hers, his gaze heated like nothing she’d seen before. Sweat trickled between her breasts, and she was sure this dress was toast, but she was too far gone to care.

Noah unbuttoned his shirt and wriggled out of it so Jordan could feast on his lean, muscular torso—his runner’s body—a sheen of sweat on his collarbone and chest. And then his hands went to work unfastening the kilt, and when it fell to the bed, Jordan had to swallow twice to make sure the saliva didn’t pour from her lips. Because there was Noah, his full, beautiful erection unguarded and unsheathed.

“I figure you’re only pretend-Scottish once, so might as well get into full character.” He waggled his brows, and she almost came just at the sight of him.

She had no words, only gratitude that she was an organized woman, one who prided herself on routine, and in three years she’d never forgotten her pill, which meant she was ready for all the spontaneity she could handle.

She hooked her feet around his waist, and without saying anything at all, told him what she wanted—what she absolutely needed—because she knew he needed it, too.

He fell forward and tugged the zipper down the side of her dress, and Jordan dropped her legs so she could shimmy free of the garment.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Tell me about it later,” she said, and Noah barked out a laugh.

“Later it is.” He pressed her knees so they fell open, and he rubbed his thumb up and down her wet folds, and Jordan was sure she would die of arousal if he didn’t do something quick.

Then he lowered himself to her, giving her one small nudge with his tip before burying himself completely, and she cried out. He rocked inside her and slid his hands up the length of her arms, pinning them above her head.

His kisses were firm and relentless, and she couldn’t get enough of him.

“How could you ever think we were anything but perfect?” Jordan asked, panting as if she were on her final breaths.

He slid out slowly, teasing her like the lovely, maddening, beautiful man he was.

The corner of his mouth quirked into a crooked grin. “My mistake,” he said, and then rocked her until she called out his name…and promptly forgot her own.