Page 4 of It Shouldn't Be You
Despite her clear dislike aimed at me, I could get lost in those green eyes. If only she’d move that damn veil. If only she knew how her fire makes me want to rile her up on purpose.
For better or worse.
She’s mine now and that means something to me.
For richer, for poorer.
She can spend all my money if that makes her happy. Fuck knows she’ll need something to brighten up her days after I thrust her into my world.
In sickness and in health.
She better not get sick. Not on my watch.
To love and to cherish.
Oh, I’ll cherish her all right.
Until death do us part.
I smirk and raise an eyebrow as I reach for her hand to slip the wedding band on her finger. As she repeats her vows, her narrowed eyes give away her unhappiness.
Welcome to the club, Princess.
As we exchange rings, it’s my turn to piss her off and lift her veil, finally uncovering her pale creamy skin.
Between her sass and her beauty, she’s living up to every stereotype that comes with being a redhead.
“You may now kiss your bride. May God bless this union from this day forward.”
With a smirk, I lean closer to her, only for her to twist round at the last second and present me with her check, eliciting laughter from Alex.
“Don’t think you’re forgiven that easily, Viking,” she hisses.
Fuck me. Her sass excites me as I look forward to what hell she’ll unleash on my carefully controlled life.
“Bring it on, Princess.”
Chapter 2
“Okay, just a few more photos of the girls and then we’re done here,” the photographer directs, and we shuffle into position. Talk about awkward group photos—with his arm around my waist and my face forced into a smile. I ignore the heat from his touch for getting photos with my girls that I will treasure forever; a price I’m willing to pay.
“How do you feel, Mrs Graham?” Cora quirks an eyebrow as she leans in close for the photo. Lily, on my other side, looks as invested for my answer.
With an eye roll, I reply, “The same as half an hour ago, except now I know I’ll be moving to Scotland. Could be worse, I guess.”
We fall silent for a photo, then turn to toss our bouquets in the air at the same time. I’d seen the pose on Instagram once and became obsessed with the idea of recreating it.
“I mean... it probably doesn’t hurt he looks like he belongs in a motorcycle gang. Big dick energy for sure,” Lily drawls, making a crude gesture with her free hand.
“Oh honey, thatdefinitelydoesn’t hurt. But if he thinks he can stand me up for the best part of a year and then get married like nothing happened, he’s got another thing coming.” With a hair toss and a laugh, we chuck the flowers up, turning at the last second to look over our shoulders with wide grins.
I wish I had more time with them. But we don’t always get what we wish for.
Shaking off my sombre mood, we share a final hug, which the photographer snaps an impromptu picture of. Then we head over to where Logan, Owen, and another groomsman are chatting. He couldn’t be further from Logan’s twin with his hazel eyes, tanned skin, and bald head that showcases his tattoos. He’s sexy in a fuckboy way. Like you know he would break your heart if you let him, but you’d end up thanking him for it.
“Well, aren’t you the most stunning bride. Far too pretty for this asshole. What do you say we run off together?” he teases with a cocky smirk.
“Thanks but no thanks, Trouble. I don’t run away with men whose names I don’t know.”
