Page 75 of Faking the Pass
Frosted in ivory buttercream, the four-tiered cake was decorated with buttercream beach roses and white chocolate seashells and starfish embedded into the sides.
It was sprinkled with iridescent candy pearls, and it was simply too much to resist.
There were also trays of gorgeous handmade chocolates, all in a nautical theme, all of which Presley tried—in addition to eatingtwopieces of wedding cake.
Apparently I wasn’t the only one surprised to see him eating sugar, because his brothers took notice.
“Watch out there, Superman. Your system’s going to go into shock from all that kryptonite,” Merc teased.
Dylan chimed in. “This is the first time you’ve eaten dessert in years, isn’t it?”
“Decades,” Wilder corrected. “His body is a temple.”
“Fuck you, it’s my wedding night,” Presley responded before shoveling another forkful of wedding cake into his mouth.
“Language,” his mom said with a tut-tut noise.
“There are ladies present, son,” his dad scolded.
Presley gave Jessica and his mom and me a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
Lily had already left the party, picked up by a sitter at around seven o’clock. The little girl went without a fuss because she was eager to see her cousin Theo, who was strapped into his car seat, calling out to her loud enough for us all to hear.
The toasts began as the dessert course wound down. Merc went first.
“When Pres called me and told me I needed to haul ass here from California during a game week, I assumed something was bad wrong. But tonight I know the opposite is true. Something here is very right. I haven’t seen my brother smile this much or laugh this much in a long time, and it warms my heart.”
He lifted his glass toward me. “The reason is sitting right there, looking like a princess—waytoo good for this joker, by the way.”
Everyone laughed, and he went on.
“Seriously, I knew back in high school there was something special about the connection between you two. Which is why Rosie would never give me the time of day… when everyone couldplainlysee I was the hotter brother.”
There was more laughter, louder this time. When it dissipated, Merc said, “To Rosie and Presley… who’sstillnot as hot but is clearly the luckiest SOB alive.”
“To Rosie and Presley,” everyone echoed.
Glasses clinked around the table, then Wilder rose from his chair. “I’m going to claim it’s a tie since I’malsothe luckiest man alive.”
Beside him, Jessica grinned and did a cute little wiggle as Wilder started his toast.
“I want to say I can’t imagine a better fit for this family—and for Presley—than Rosie. While it might not have been the smartest thing I’ve ever done to put her in a small boat wearing a dress the weight of a freighter anchor…”
This time I couldn’t help but laugh with the others. That thing had weighed aton.
“...I couldn’t be happier I sent her to that cottage with my brother’s house key. It’s been quite a journey, and there’s more to come, but I truly believe these two can weather any storm and come out stronger. A toast… to the newest Mrs. Lowe.”
There was more clinking of crystal and a rousing recitation of, “To Mrs. Lowe.”
Dylan pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m still waiting formygood luck to roll in.”
There were chuckles and head nods.
“But I haven’t given up yet,” he said. “And Pres, you and Rosie give me hope that the right oneisout there somewhere for me and Lily. I wish you both happiness and health and a houseful of little Lowes. All girls preferably… because I need someone to commiserate with about attending mandatory daily tea parties and readingMadelineseven hundred thousand times. Sofar.”
He grinned. “To Pres and Rosie.”
“To Pres and Rosie,” the family echoed.
