Page 37 of The Grip of Death
Just then, Gertrude Goodness stepped into the gardens followed by a small army of floating gift boxes. She craned her neck as she searched the grounds, then waved widely when she made eye contact.
“Jackson, Xander? I’ve brought the souvenir cakes for the guests. Where shall I — oh, goodness gracious.”
A pair of court dancers had taken a moment to wiggle their butts for the newest arrival, presenting their voluptuous peaches in a tandem welcome twerk. Gertrude blushed.
I nudged Xander with my elbow. “Looks like we have plenty enough cake at the palace already.”
Xander laughed. “A whole bakery.”
Gertrude whooped in surprise and delight as King Oberon swept her up into a dance. She flung her hand across thegardens, sending the gift boxes floating safely to an empty table before they could be squashed or molested by any wayward butts.
Servers from the kitchen staff followed the dancers into the garden, each clutching a tray with little appetizers or flutes of effervescent liquids in a rainbow of spectacular colors. I shook my head, grinning broadly. We were never going to get the decorating done at this rate.
Xander laughed as he snatched a drink from a passing tray. “Not exactly what I had in mind — not that I even remembered our bachelor parties — but this is amazing!”
I pulled Xander in for a one-armed hug and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “Yep. It’s just perfect. Couldn’t be more perfect.”
“All of our friends here, a more beautiful venue than I could have possibly imagined, and a wish that you made on a genuine, magical pointed five-leaf clover that I totally didn’t just make up in the moment.”
My lips pressed together in a pout. Rascal. I knew where this was going.
Xander nipped at my ear. We were so lucky that Beatrice was too busy hooting at her fae stripper to notice. Hey, maybe the clover thing worked after all.
“I’m not gonna stop asking,” Xander whispered. “And if you don’t answer, King Oberon’s court dancers will suddenly find a new recruit among them.”
I didn’t fall for the bait — not just yet — because stretching it out just long enough to annoy Xander was always such a fun option.
“What did I wish for? It’s so ironic, isn’t it, as someone who makes things with his bare hands — a creator, if you will — to be so incapable of making any truly creative wishes. I mean, what man is prepared to make something so difficult in the moment?”
Xander rolled his eyes and pulled away. “I’m already sorry I asked.”
And I hadn’t even dropped any indeeds or verilies yet. But I was in a good mood and didn’t mind letting Xander off the hook. I grabbed his hand, pulled him close, and wedged his waist into the crook of my arm.
“A long and happy life for you and me. Together. That’s what I wished for.”
When Xander smiled, I thought I could see the faintest sparkle of a tear forming in the corner of his eye. “Jackson, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I waggled my eyebrows. “Wait until we get to the honeymoon.”
Xander burst out laughing and thumped me on the chest. We pressed our torsos together as he leaned in for a kiss. With the music of the Verdance around us, in a gathering of our closest friends, it didn’t much feel like we needed magic anymore. All of my wishes had already come true.
16
“Great day for a wedding, huh?”Preston whispered.
“Um, yeah,” I whispered back. “Great day for it.”
Both of his hands were clasped together tight, his fists and knuckles like a hammer dangling at his waist. I was doing the same. Didn’t know the first damn thing I was supposed to do with my hands, standing here in front of this massive audience.
No, see, that was my first mistake, thinking of them as a group of people who had come here to judge me. These were all friends and family come to celebrate probably the biggest party of my life. They were all there to see me and Xander get married, and then we’d have a great time afterward with plenty of booze and cake. Nothing to worry about.
And yet all I could do was worry. We’d rehearsed the ceremony plenty of times already. Everything was set to go off without a hitch. Lore’s crystal buzzed softly in the air between us, practicing his lines under his breath as if he couldn’t pull up any of a thousand officiant scripts from his memory banks and read them automagically text-to-speech style.
“You nervous there, Lore?” I asked, maybe in some feeble attempt to deflect my anxiety.
“It’s my first wedding, Jackson. I think I have every right to be nervous.”
“You’ll ace it, don’t worry. Just like you ace everything else, whether it’s shopping for groceries, or baking, or firing lasers.”
