Good times.
Now I just have to convince my feet to start working and get myself down the aisle.
“Oh, Han, you’ve been sure about him from the start and you know it. You just have to stick to the plan and get your guy. Remember what I had to go through with Taylor?”
“God, I still can’t believe you were willing to use Greg to make Tay jealous.”
“That took some serious apples, Lena,” Chris chimes in from behind us, handing me a glass of champagne as she comes to flank my other side and eyes the dress with enough critique that I squirm.
It’s a running joke between the three of us that, while Lena had fully intended to marry Greg, her original plan had not been so martyr-like. She’d actually only agreed to the engagement as a way to force Taylor into acting on his feelings for her.
When he hadn’t, things had turned sour, and she’d even gone so far as to sign the pre-nup before I’d ruined everything — she’s terribly grateful, by the way.
“Yeah, it really did. For a while there I thought I would really have to give up on him and just get married…”
She looks really guilty while saying this, and I raise a brow. Something’s not right there, and as one of her new best friends I want—
“Anyway!” she says, way too brightly. “Let’s get you down the aisle and continue our ‘Topple Gregory plan,’ shall we!”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes! Of course. I… Chris! Get her into position while I fix the train.”
“I think she had one too many glasses of champagne. If we don’t get going, we’ll have to walk her down the aisle,” Chris giggles, and I stifle one of my own, watching Lena fuss and flutter around me, her head bobbling like a chicken’s.
Goosebumps the size of cannonballs erupt all over my body when the wedding march starts and the doors are thrown open, revealing the crammed church and the not-so-welcoming stares directed my way.
“Jesus help us, they look like they’ve been sucking on lemons,” Chris hisses, and I swallow nervously, pasting on a smile that makes my cheeks ache.
“Don’t worry, they can’t get to you with him in front of you,” Lena mutters through an equally fake smile. “Just keep smiling!” they hiss, grabbing my arms in a death grip.
Oh God…
I start walking, both of them keeping pace with me just as they’d promised, and ignore the hostility directed my way, choosing instead to focus on my groom and the brilliant intensity filling his gaze.
It makes me want to laugh when I see his eyes flit almost reluctantly to my dress, before winging back up with a glorious smile that lights his face so brightly I feel the heat all the way to my toes.
“Looks like the dress is a go,” Chris mutters, and I giggle all the way, only stopping when his hand takes mine and he leads me the rest of the way to the alter.
I’m shaking with nerves as I look up at him, and it takes an iron will not to turn and bolt as far and fast as my legs and heels will allow.
“Breathe, darlin’,” he growls, rubbing soothingly at the skin on my wrist.
I do as he says, and feel the lightheaded panic dissolve as he stops and turns my way, his steady gaze fixed on me and only me.
This is it, I think, as the preacher clears his throat and starts in a solemn voice. If you do this, you’re trapped. He’ll never let you go now.
“Dearly beloved…”
By the time we’ve said our “I do’s” and exchanged rings, I feel almost floaty with the magnitude of what I’ve done. When the man asked me whether I take Greg as my husband, I’d had a second of panicked misgiving and actually eyed the door out of the corner of my eye.
Of course the oaf had seen that and clamped a hand over my right hip, smiling so victoriously, I swallowed and tittered through my vows. Give me a break: of course I’m a little doubtful. I have to marry his whole stinking family too, and with the heat at my back it’s a wonder I haven’t burst into flames yet.
The kiss made the whole ordeal worth it, though. I laughed into his mouth when he grabbed me up and planted a kiss on me that made my toes curl.
While the muttering, whispers, and throat-clearing echoed around us.
Now we’re sitting in the car, headed for a jet that’s taking us I don’t know where, and I am officially married to Gregory Lucas, control freak extraordinaire.
“Your family is…” I blow out a harsh breath and wince just thinking of Chris’s glare and Nana’s fighting stance when we left the hotel.
“Not great, I know. I told you I didn’t want them there,” he says, and I shrug guiltily.
He was right, damn his hide. They really are…something else. I’d spent the reception dodging his mother and sister after the last time they cornered me at the buffet.