Declan
Everyone else is watching the bride. Me, I’m watching Claire.
The ring that’s going to seal the deal is burning a hole in my pocket. I feel ridiculous standing here in a wedding I don’t approve of.
My father’s best man. What a fucking joke.
But it’s important to him, and even if I don’t like it, I want him to know I have his back, no matter what.
Claire catches my eye and smiles. I wonder what our parents would think if they knew I pulled her into the bathroom earlier to check if her underwear matched the spring green dress she’s wearing. It did. At least until I yanked her panties down and tucked them into my breast pocket.
Discreetly of course.
She blushes and turns back to watch her mom finish the walk and step up next to Dad. I can still smell the scent of sex and her perfume. So yeah, I’m standing on the altar of my father’s wedding with a fucking erection.
At least something’s looking up today.
I’ll say something nice. Her mom looks great. The dress is white, but with pale green lace that matches Claire’s dress. This is the first time I’ve really been forced to stand and look at her, and while I might not be her biggest fan, it’s like looking at an older version of Claire, and if that’s Claire’s future? Her husband will be a lucky man.
The minister smiles and looks around the small chapel. “Welcome. Today we are here to celebrate the union of Garrett and Annette.”
He starts his spiel, and I zone out, looking out the narrow window onto the grounds of the castle Dad booked. Yeah, a castle. Or at least some rich movie star’s idea of a castle. He’d barely moved in before he went broke and had to sell the place to fund his coke habit. Not a great place to start a happily ever after if you ask me, but nobody did.
The best part of the whole insane place, is that he had a pool built around the outside walls like a moat. If I lived here, I’d be diving off the parapets all day. I hope the crazy fucker got a chance to try it a couple times before he left.
Claire clears her throat, and I realize that the monotonous drone of the ceremony has paused. Everyone’s looking at me, and Dad’s holding out his hand with a raised eyebrow. Right. The ring. I pat my pockets and pretend to be worried, which earns me a scowl.
Serious occasion, blah blah blah. He takes it when I hand it to him, and turns back to Annette. My job is done.
I grin and shrug at the girl who’s about to become my stepsister. Claire looks like she’s trying not to laugh, and I know I have at least one kindred soul in the room. Very carefully, I palm my panty handkerchief and dab my forehead.
“Stop that,” she mouths silently.
Dad’s just starting the vows he wrote, and everyone’s attention is on him. Except Claire. With a smirk, I mouth back, “I want to fuck you.”
She squints like she doesn’t understand, so I repeat it, a little slower. This time she gets it, her eyes going wide as she pinches her lips to prevent voicing a reaction. I just smile wider, trying not to laugh out loud at her blush.
Dad finishes, and Annette starts hers. It’s full of lovey-dovey crap, but whatever. I only glance her way for a moment, because Claire’s mouthing something back to me. “Later.”
Fucking hell. I made her blush, but she got me back good. My cock was nearly as bored as I was, but he’s certainly perking up again now.
Annette and Dad finish their “I do’s”, and the minister beams at the happy couple. “You may kiss the bride.” Everyone claps, and I know I’m going to have nightmares about the flash of tongue I just saw, but they do look happy.
And just like that, Claire’s my stepsister.
Weird.
The reception is outside, a big, medieval looking cloth tent holds the party area, and they even have a live band playing madrigals. All they need is a jester and pony rides.
We all suffer through the hand shaking and hugging. I don’t even know most of these people. Sitting down for dinner is a relief, but I very quickly realize my mistake.
Glasses are ringing from all over the tent, and Dad and Annette are getting way too into making everyone happy. Fuck, I totally don’t need to sit here and watch them make out. It looks so fucking wrong to me.
With a short, “Excuse me,” I get up.
Claire looks at me like she knows what I’m thinking. “Where are you going?”
I want to tell her I’m calling a cab and going home, but I’m not that much of an asshole. For now I just want to find a bathroom, or a privy, or at least a good sized bush. “Gotta take a leak. Been holding it the whole ceremony.”
She rolls her eyes.
A voice comes over the PA as I go. “The bride and groom have a film they’d like to share with the guests, which will play as soon as everyone is served. In the meantime, we will be starting you off with a light lobster bisque with fresh scallops, pulled out of the ocean only hours ago.”