Which wasn't to say I was a monk but I didn't get much time for those kinds of recreational activities. Another thing I didn't have time for? Going to weddings. Most of my friends were gearheads or pilots, and they all seemed to elope or have small, backyard weddings. Since I didn't date, this was basically my first formal wedding.
If we didn't count Audrey's.
I didn't know what I was in for but after going through four security checkpoints and then being led to a golf cart for a ten-minute drive through a literal cow pasture, I realized this wedding was going to be quite the initiation.
The guy driving the cart, the crew-cut, brick-wall sort, parked along the side of a narrow road and escorted me down a winding driveway toward a large, old Victorian home. He handed me off to another security guard, one who looked me over before saying into his headset, "Inform the bride that her guest has arrived."
"Oh, no, don't bother her," I said, waving him off. "No, not the bride. One of the bridesmaids. Audrey. Audrey's mine. I'm not here for the bride."
"Pardon me, sir, but we'reallhere for the bride." He went on staring at me, completely stone-faced. "Mrs. Ralston personally added you to the VIP list."
"Mrs. Ralston," I repeated. I glanced at the buzz of activity around me, rocking back on my heels when I spotted a massive portrait of a lovely dark-haired woman and the most decorated quarterback of this generation. "Yes. Mrs. Ralston. Of course."
Holy shit.I guess it was a good thing I'd snagged a new suit.
The security guard motioned to the stone path leading to the front steps of the Victorian. "Wait here."
Before I could even thank him, the woman from the photo spilled out of the doorway, three women scrambling behind her to hold the long train of her dress. "Well, hello there," she said, her hands on her hips. "You must be the fiancé."
"Oh my god, Emme, keep that to yourself." From somewhere behind the mass of white fluff, Audrey appeared. She wore the same blue dress as the other bridesmaids, her hair gathered back in a pretty bun. Her cheeks were pink and she kept her eyes low, but she bounded down those stairs and right into my arms. "You came," she said against my neck.
"You asked." I let myself breathe her in, to feel every spot where she pressed against me. "It just took me a few days to figure it out."
"Let's not do that anymore."
I dropped a kiss on her lips. "Agreed."
"This is really fucking adorable and all," one of the women shouted, "but we don't have time to redo your makeup."
"Or hair," another said.
"But we do have the steamer ready to go if those big paws of his wrinkle your dress," yet another maid called.
"Don't get me in trouble," Audrey whispered.
I shot a glance over her shoulder to the women watching from the porch. "Hey, so, you didn't tell me this wasRyan Ralston'swedding."
"It's not. It's Emme's wedding," she said. "He happens to be here too."
"A little warning would've been nice," I said, my lips on her cheek. "I've been to classified meetings with the federal government that had less security than this place."
She smoothed her hands down my lapels. "But you're here now."
I tucked a loose strand of hair over her ear. "Sorry it took so long."
She shrugged this off. I knew she would, even if I didn't deserve it. She just didn't know how to let herself be someone's problem. "It's okay but—" She tipped her head toward the bridal party. "I should probably get back."
"But first." Another kiss, light enough to keep all the makeup intact. "You look amazing. Do you know that?"
She shrugged, shook her head, glanced away. "I've worn this dress a few times now. It's fine. Nothing amazing."
"It's not the dress," I said. "It's you." I looped an arm around her waist, pulled her in close. "Do I get to keep you after this ceremony? Or are you still on duty?"
"We're definitely gonna need that steamer," a bridesmaid muttered.
"I have some time once we're finished with photos," she said, a sweet little grin brightening her face.
"You didn't answer my question. Do I get to keep you?"
