Page 6 of It Shouldn't Be You
“Are you okay, Abbie? You look flushed.”
“I’m fine, Mum...just, is it hot? I think it is,” I stutter as I fan myself and ignore the chuckle from Logan. Thankfully, she drops it as the waiters arrive with the main course.
As the plates are cleared the man on Logan’s right clears his throat and stands up, tapping a knife against his glass to get everyone’s attention.
“I don’t know about you folks, but I’m ready to get this party started. But before we can. I just want to raise a toast to my nephew and his new bride. To Logan and Abigail, may your life be full of laughter and there never be a dull moment. Welcome to the family.” Raising his glass at me with a welcoming smile the man takes a seat.
Leaning into Logan, I ask him, “Who is that?”
“My uncle Peter, he’s harmless.”
Before I can ask him anything else my attention is drawn to Cora standing from her seat beside my dad. With a watery smile, she looks at me, love pouring from her in waves.
“If you had told me that the wild child, I met ten years ago would turn into this beautiful woman sitting here today, my best friend for life, now a married woman, I would have had so many questions about how we got here. But I’m so glad I have witnessed every second of it all unfold and I couldn't ask for a better friend. A better godmother to my little girl and I can't wait to hold your hand through this next phase of life. Logan, if you hurt one precious hair on her head, I’ll fuck you up personally and don’t doubt that I can. Abbie, if you ever want to run away, ditch the boys and get married just let me know, I’ve got your back for life babe.” Getting up and hugging her tight, as if I can meld us into one and not be separated, is as natural as breathing air.
The room breaks out into laughter and cheers behind us, but I just bury my head into her shoulder for another heartbeat before pulling back, wiping the tears off her cheeks as I say, “I love you too, babe. Forever.”
With that I take my seat beside Logan again as one thought rings true: The Four Points have always been a family and today that couldn’t be clearer if they tried.
Chapter 3
The absolute last thing I should be feeling right now is pride. I’m in a room full of made men who are looking twitchier by the minute, outnumbered ten to one, with glares so full of heat it’s a wonder I haven’t been set on fire.
If I was my father’s son I would be fuelled with anger, with bitterness swimming in my veins but instead – witnessing how deep the bonds of love tie these men and women together - has pride rushing through me. There’s no denying that being witness to something like this is a heady, powerful thing.
There’s something to be said about made men who still have their family values at heart.
The Clan could learn a thing or two from these men.
Witnessing her and Cora embrace each other is like a fist punching through my rib cage and twisting its grip around my heart. The thought of my father nearly robbing them of each other feels like a crime against humanity. One I didn’t,couldn’t, fully comprehend at the time but even one short afternoon in their presence makes it clear how cruel that would be.
At the time the danger didn’t register to me as much as it should have. I’d thought I had more time. It was only by the skin of our teeth and her sheer determination that Cora got out alive.
After Cora's speech, the waiters clear the tables quickly, making way for the DJ and live band. The lights dim, and soon Abigail is twirling around the dance floor, happiness radiating from her as she moves from one man to the next. First, with her dad, looking every bit the blushing bride, then the Four Points men. Her pure joy thaws a part of my long dead heart.
“You’re going to have to be careful with him,” Alex muses, as some asshole kid holds her a little too close, a little too tight, for a little too long.
“Name?” I growl.
“Cole Finlay, Liam and Aidan’s baby brother. And…clearly in love with your wife.”
I drill holes into the back of this Cole kid’s head as I think of all the ways to dismember a body.
Do I start with his hands for touching what isn’t his or rid him of his eyeballs for eye-fucking my wife?
“Good thing I’m taking her home tomorrow,” I mutter, as she spins into Owen's arms. I take a breath. He’s safe. He’s nothing more than a brother to her and that man wouldn’t so much as blink at another woman. Not now he has the love of his life firmly in the palm of his hand. Love is a dangerous thing in this life, and I don’t envy the Achilles heel they both now have.
The DJ announces, “Okay, folks, it’s time for the happy couple's first dance. Put your hands together for Mr and Mrs Graham!”
The floor clears, and the music shifts to a slower tune. I down the rest of my whiskey and stand, adjusting my suit jacket before taking the floor. I squeeze Owen’s shoulder, take Abigail’s hand,and let her lead me to the centre. “You didn’t think to warn me about this?” I tease, pulling her close. Breathless, she collides with me, and a shiver of anticipation zaps up my spine. She tightens her hold on my other hand and digs her nails into the side of my neck.
Princess isn’t immune to me, after all.
She fits against me perfectly, her body pressing into mine with every breath. It has me fighting back a groan at howrightit feels. At the stir of deep, primal satisfaction, I instinctively tighten my grip on her.
If my ring on her finger doesn’t speak for itself, then the possessive hold I have on her should do the job.
"Well, if you’d made time to meet me, you could've had input," she retorts with a shrug and a mischievous twirl under my arm.
