Zander covered a grin as his brother inspected the piece like it was a missing appendage.
“There,” he finally spat. “Are you satisfied?” Was that a tear in his eye?
Zander puffed up his chest as he sucked in a breath. “Yes.”
Another knock came to the door. “Seven minutes until we’re live whether you’re seated or not. Remember the contract you signed, Mr. Benton.”
“Be right there,” Zander hollered over his shoulder. He straightened the sleeves of his tux, smoothed a hand down the front, and whispered a few barely audible words just for him. “Wish me luck, brother,” He shot him a wink. “I’m about to go make-out with your future wife.”
With that, he headed toward the door.
Chapter 7
Kat pulled in a deep breath and tucked her hand into the nook of her father’s arm. Great, vaulted ceilings offered amazing acoustics as “Here Comes the Bride” rose over the room.
The doors swung open. The cameras zoomed in. And the audience, a rather humble-sized gathering, stood to their feet.
Her eyes shot to the pastor up front; surely the groom would be standing there, watching, waiting as she entered.
Only he wasn’t. A beat of panic clanked through her chest until she spotted him in front by the pastor, the only one in the chapel facing forward—besides her and her father, that is.
Which made sense, she realized. She’d been given strict instruction by the producer to not look at his face until exactly five seconds after the music stopped. Obviously, he’d been given the same direction.
She pulled in a breath of tingly anticipation. Her entire life had led her to this one, fateful moment. All she’d wanted was to be married by thirty and here she was, just months shy of her twenty-ninth birthday, walking down the aisle at last.
And this wouldn’t be some guy she’d fallen for who lied about who he was and what he wanted.
No, this would be her match.
As close to the perfect formula as she could get.
The floor became the years of her past as she moved forward, step by step. The lies and deceit. The pain, doubt, and mistrust that came of it. All of that was behind her now, washed away by the train of her wedding gown as she stepped into her future.
Kat scanned over the familiar faces of family and friends. His family sat on the other side, but she couldn’t get herself to glance over just yet; they’d all be strangers to her. And though her groom was unknown to her as well, Kat was anxious to catch a glimpse of him.
And there he was, facing the front, faithfully obeying the producer’s instruction to not look at her until the music stopped.
His thick, dark hair was neatly trimmed, but long enough to style. He was tall in height, broad in the shoulders, and filled out his tuxedo like it was made for him.
Butterflies started a riot in her tummy. Holy smokes! Standing just three feet away was the man she was about to marry!
Dad slowed his pace, and Kat realized he was taking silent direction from the woman behind the lens.
They stopped walking at last.
Dad turned to her and lifted her half-veil. He gave her a grin, his brown eyes teary, before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “My baby girl,” he said in a whisper.
Dad replaced the veil and guided her hand toward the groom’s. At once, she felt the warmth of a new hand envelop hers. A thrill shot through her at his touch.
“You better take good care of her,” Dad mumbled, and then he was gone, joining Mom at the pew. Kat kept her chin down just enough to look at the petal-covered floor between them.
The music stopped, and a bout of panic threatened to consume her. Could she look now? No, she was supposed to wait five seconds.
The mental countdown began. Five. Was it possible for a healthy twenty-eight-year-old to die of anticipation alone?
Four.
Three. Okay, this wasn’t anticipation. This was panic. One of those attacks that felt like a thousand cymbals crashing inside her chest.
