So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(46)

A few scant minutes ago, this seemed a mistake. But now all I want is for Jo to say I do.

God, if you’ll just let her make it up the aisle, I’ll be good to her. You have my word. I’ll be good. Please, I’ve not asked for anything since I was a child. As long as she’s my wife, I won’t let her have regrets.





I straighten my back, brush the veil behind my shoulders, and look Stevie right in the eyes. “I’m good. This is fine. I’ll have a real wedding when I find my Mr. Right. But today—today, I’ll marry Mr. Right Now. And don’t worry, I know what’s what.”

I hug her tightly.

The door opens, and Jake leans into the room head first, hands gripping the door as though he’s afraid of what he might—or might not—find.

Stevie’s eyes flit to him, and then to me.

She bites the corner of her lip, but finally, she takes a deep breath. “If you’re sure.”

Terri whispers something to Jake, and he disappears. She waves us toward the door.

The Bridal Chorus starts again.

Stevie goes out first. When she’s almost to the end of the aisle, I follow her through the door.

The sun ducks behind a cloud, and thunder rumbles somewhere in the distance.

I wonder if that’s a sign.

My first step falters. I pause to get my bearings.

The crowds’ craning heads block the view of my groom, which may be best.

Time slows, and the expanse between me and the end of my walk grows further with each step I take.

The wind lifts my veil, and it floats around me.

When my gaze meets Ty’s, his eyes widen.

Then he seems to breathe a sigh of relief as he mouths, “Wow.”

Dark clouds billow on the horizon as I tighten my grip on the stems of the flowers in my hands.

Somehow, I make it to him without tripping over the hem of my gown or my own two feet.

I hand off the bouquet to Stevie.

When I turn to face Tyson, he grins at me and whispers, “You’re absolutely stunning.”

The minister clears his throat and begins.

And life as I know it ends.





FIFTEEN





We’ve had our first dance, cut the cake, toasted, and hooked arms to let the photographer take photos as we drank sparkling wine.

I need a break.

I sneak in the side door of the small kitchen-slash-wet bar that makes up the other half of the building that houses the bride’s dressing room. The louvered doors that open to the outside where all the tables are set up for the guests are closed, shutting out most of the noise. Terri opted to use the open-air beverage center, which is perfect, because I can hide in here.

Stevie would find me if I holed up in the bride’s room. And I don’t want to be found. Not right now.

I rummage through the boxes of extra supplies the caterers and bartender stored in here, finding a bottle of vodka. I crack the seal and lean against the counter.

The door opens.

Great. I’ve been found.

I take a quick swig of patience as Tyson peeks around the door.

“I thought I saw you come in here.”

“I’m only taking a minute. I’ll be out in a few.”

I set the bottle down and cross my arms. He comes toward me.

Will he not simply take the hint and take a hike?

Tyson leans against the counter. He’s taken his suit coat off and his shirt sleeves pull tight over his biceps. His body calls mine with his every move. Heat surges through my veins as I recall those arms tenderly wrapped around me after we have sex.

I might only be a convenient piece of ass to him, but after sex, he always holds me and kisses my neck and my back, and every single time, he asks to stay through the night. But I haven’t let that sway me. I’ve stuck to my plan to protect my heart. I always kick him out and make him go upstairs.

However, no matter how well I’ve managed to push him away during the daylight hours and keep from waking in his arms in the morning, he’s constantly on my mind. His kisses. His breath hot on my fevered skin. His ass cheeks in my hands. His giant erection pumping into my pussy.

Crap. Even now, my panties are damp thinking about all the things he does to me.

I push past him to the small ice maker on the counter, fiddling with the buttons. “You can go, really. Enjoy the reception. Those are your friends and family out there.”

“I’d rather be in here with you.” He traps me between his arms, my back against the edge of the sink, staring into my eyes. “You’ve been avoiding me. It’s our wedding day, love.”

My grip on the counter tightens as I focus over his shoulder on the boxes of liquor bottles stacked near the door. “Yeah. Well, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind for this wedding.”

He steps closer, his knee pushing through my dress and working its way between my thighs.