Page 48 of Wine & Whiskey: Everything for You
Father Thomas nods toward Carrie. “Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?”
The maid of honor murmurs her answer before hugging Shae and releasing her into Nick’s waiting hand. The minister speaks again, reminding the small group of the sanctity of marriage and the need to ensure God is the most important element of a successful relationship.
Gina’s gaze holds his for a second, long enough for him to wink at her before she turns back to watching Nick and Shae. Beautiful in her own right, her toned legs almost endless in her borderline inappropriate, purple skirt. Probably a tiny thong underneath. Easy to slide down and off her silky skin throbbing under his fingertips.
Damn. He needs to get himself under control. Her father sits only a few feet away, unlikely to be pleased he’s thinking about his daughter that way. That he’s thinking of her at all, since she’s left the man she promised the better and worse of a lifetime. He shakes his head, trying to clear away his lust and his guilt.
“If there is anyone here who can show just cause as to why these two people should not be united in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
His gaze darts to Carrie. The only one who would risk fucking this up. Yet, hopefully, she’s bright enough to fear Nick’s wrath and keep her mouth shut. Her smile never flickers, no smart aleck words form on her lips. Now it’s his turn to let out a deep breath as the minister moves on.
He holds back his smile at Marta’s emotional reaction to the wedding. Tears roll down the usually stoic housekeeper’s cheeks at Shae’s soft voice, reciting her vows. Quiet yet confident, she repeats everything the deacon whispers before sliding a black band onto Nick’s finger, her huge smile turning into a small laugh when the deacon stops Nick from leaning in to kiss her. Poor guy has no idea how close to death he puts himself, keeping her from his boss.
“Not yet, Nick.” Father Thomas chuckles and holds up his palm. “It’s your turn now to give yourself to Shae.”
Nick nods, swallowing hard as his face scrunches at the emotion rolling through him. Proof how much he loves her, confirmation they belong together. Not that there was ever any doubt.
Max pats his friend on the back as Shae steps closer, her smile softening, her body curling against Nick’s, reassuring him of her patience and her strength. He digs in his pocket and hands Nick her ring. Sooner than requested, but Nick accepts it and slowly slides the sparkling band on her finger, finally able to speak the words Marta’s priest offers.
Max rolls his shoulders, loosening the tense muscles from the unexpected delay. They’ve made it. Levity peppers through the minister’s voice with his last remarks, finalizing their commitment, forever ensuring Shae’s inclusion in all their lives.
“Now, you may kiss your bride.”
Applause muffles Nick’s whisper to her before he cups her radiant face and kisses her gently. Gina never glances his way, a frown darkening her expression as she stares at her hands in her lap. Another torrent of guilt washes over him at what she’s probably thinking. Damn. He’d give anything to talk to her alone, to reassure her of the sincerity of his feelings for her. But, for now, he doesn’t have time to try and salvage his own faltering relationship. He has best man duties to perform.
After ensuring Leo has properly escorted the minister to his vehicle and the champagne has been uncorked, Max holds up his flute and all the conversations around the deck fade away. Shae smiles at him, her face flushed with a pink glow, while Nick stands behind her, one arm draped across her chest, the other wrapped around her waist. A protective stance he probably never even realizes he holds. Unconsciously guarding everything precious to both of them.
“Most of us go through life hoping to find love. If we’re lucky, the other person feels the same way.”
Everyone laughs, not because he’s that clever, but because everything’s funnier when people are happy and full of liquor. Only to his own ears do the words sound bittersweet. His best friend’s wife is happy, which is what he wants for her, for them.
“Nick found Shae and told her it was love. She wasn’t quite convinced at first.”
More laughter peals around them. Most of them intimate participants in the story, some more supportive than others. Yet no one able to break the bond between them. Nick kisses her neck and whispers in her ear, the smile on her face growing even brighter.
“Now, when I see the sparkle in her eyes when she looks at him, it confirms what the rest of us know. They’re meant to be together. To Nick and Shae. May this be the first day in a lifetime of happiness.”
Shae steps out of Nick’s embrace and wraps her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much for the beautiful toast. You were very eloquent.”
Her touch is pure and innocent. She still thinks he’s a good man, unaware of the shame pulsing through him. “You’re welcome. It had to be good now that you’re my new landlord. I don’t want to be kicked out.”
She leans back and smiles at him, shaking her head. “Never. I love you. You’ll always be a part of our family. You’re the cool uncle, remember?”
“Yeah, I love you too. Just remember, I don’t change diapers.”
Nick hugs him too. The first time ever since they’ve worked together. Better fucking be the last time too. Or they’ll both end up getting their asses kicked.
“Is time for cake.”
Shae’s eyes light up at Marta’s proclamation. She grabs Carrie’s hand, and they follow Marta to the dining table, where Shae swipes at the icing along the bottom tier. Max takes a long drink. His own toast to letting go and moving forward. To keeping her happiness and their friendship intact.
Drill sergeant Carrie directs all the activities, leading Shae and Nick in cutting cake and taking pictures while Marta cleans up empty glasses and plates smeared with chocolate. Nathan engrosses Enrique in conversation, his head bobbing as he demonstrates something with his hands to the older man. Yet, the person he seeks is nowhere around.
As a cool breeze ruffles his hair, he walks over to the woodpile and pulls off a few logs. Stacking them crisscross on the metal grate, he stuffs kindling and balled newspapers underneath and lights the match. He steps back as a hint of lavender drifts over him.
“Nice speech.”
“Thank you.” Everyone still occupied, he slides his hand onto the cashmere skin of her lower back. A small twitch in his groin at her breathy gasp. “Did you get my message?”
