Page 167 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

“What are you doing?”

Raya’s voice cuts through the noise in my head. I look up, and there she is, watching me from the doorway.

“You skate?” I ask, casual as I can.

“No,” she says too quickly. “That was my brother’s.”

I nod, but I don’t believe her.

She smiles. “I’m all done upstairs.”

I swallow hard. “Cool. We’re almost done out here.”

She disappears back inside, and I set the board down on the garage floor, watching it like it might come alive. This is a conversation for another time. Maybe later tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

Or maybe…

Maybe she’s telling the truth. Whoever that was on the video was pretty skilled. I have to believe I would know if my fiancée was out here on some Tony Hawk type shit.

Nah.

I’m too in my head. Overthinking.

I’m relieved to be wrong about this.

Time to get back to business.

But I make a mental note…

Call Tori later.

50

Ace

Three weeks later…

I feel like I’ve been standing at this altar for hours. In reality, it’s probably only been about five minutes. My collar’s a little too loose, my bow tie’s a little too tight, and I can’t stop tapping my foot.

I’m nervous.

Raya wanted something small and intimate, and I agreed, because she gets whatever she wants from me. But I know the 'small' part was most important for her. No parents. No friends. Just Tori.

So here we are at the Avalon Estate, a historic mansion in north Decatur. It sits on acres of manicured grounds, surrounded by ancient oak trees and garden paths. Raya loved it when we toured, and they happened to have an opening.

We’re in the Grand Hall, which is a misnomer, because it’s small and cozy. Raya handpicked every detail of the decor. All I had to do was show up in my tux.

I can’t wait to see her walk down the aisle.

“You good?”

I turn to face Titus, giving him a nod. My best man. He’s grinning, looking sharp in his tux, his energy high. He’s been my rock through this whole thing, whereas Bron, Jovan, and Dayton have been more like bystanders. They’re seated on my side of the aisle, subdued as hell. But they’re here, which is more than I can say for my family.

They wanted no parts of this. My mother made sure of that. She poisoned the well, spun a bunch of stories, and created such a hostile environment that even my cousins declined their invitations. Not that I even invited my parents. Vanessa spilled the news, I’m sure.

Raya’s side is even emptier. Tori’s the only guest. She’s in the front row, legs crossed, arms folded, her face relaxed. She looks happy to be here, at least. Proud, too. And she should be. Without her, this probably wouldn’t be happening. Without her advice, her warnings, and her gifts to me, I wouldn’t be standing here right now waiting to tie myself to a woman I can’t decide if I love more than I fear.

The pastor at my parent’s church declined, so the officiant next to me is a complete stranger. He keeps giving me polite smiles, but I just nod and keep it moving.

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