Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Fondness for the man in question slips in and melts away some of my awkwardness. “He isn’t forcing me. I want this, I swear.”
“It can be both with him,” he says dryly.
I bite down on my bottom lip. “Don’t I know it.”
“I just don’t want you to get taken advantage of—again. I can’t help feeling you’re out of your depths here, and he’s rushing you into this because he knows it.”
“I understand your concern, believe me. But while I haven’t spent a lot of time getting to know Marcus, we have spent the last twelve to fourteen hours melding our souls together. Please believe me when I tell you I know who I’m marrying, and I am ecstatic about it.”
The handsome older version of my almost-husband smiles. “All right. I believe you.”
I smile and link my arm through his.
It doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, and that gives me hope.
When the time finally comes, the double doors are pulled open.
The wedding march starts up, and my heart fills with happiness.
A grin steals across my face the moment I lay eyes on him.
I sigh, admiring his beautiful smile, the warmth in his eyes when he looks at me. He’s all I can see. All I care about.
His father walks me down the aisle, and the officiant asks, “Do you give this woman to this man?”
“I do,” Marcus Sr. says.
“Thanks, Dad,” Marcus says with a little wink.
I fight the urge to hide my face with embarrassment, and his father just shoots him a look as if to say, behave yourself.
He knows he won’t.
We all do.
That’s why we love him.
Marcus takes my hand and I step up onto the altar.
We join both hands, and it takes all my willpower to resist kissing him.
Marcus doesn’t exert such restraint.
I gasp when he tugs me close, grabbing my waist and leaning in to kiss me.
The priest clears his throat and I giggle.
“Sorry, Father,” Marcus says, but we can both tell he isn’t. “Couldn’t help myself.”
The old man smiles faintly as I step back, and then he begins.
Joey and I didn’t write our own vows. He’s traditional, and he just wanted to go with the traditional script. So the priest tells the guests that we’re gathered here to celebrate the union of… and then he pauses, frowning at his notes.
I don’t look, but I imagine the first name crossed out and replaced with another while the last name is left the same.
Before I die of embarrassment, he clears his throat and carries on, “Marcus Peterson and Jessa Parker.”
Behind my groom, a man scoffs, and that’s the moment I realize my ex-groom is standing behind my current one. My eyes widen. Isn’t that where the best man…?
Oh my god.
He convinced Joey to be the best man at our wedding.
I widen my eyes at Marcus, utterly disbelieving. “How?” I mouth.
He grins. “Magic,” he mouths back.
I glance that way one more time and see behind Marcus and Joey, all the groomsmen who enjoyed me last night lined up in a row.
My face flushes at the sinful memory. I quickly refocus my attention on my groom and the words the priest is saying.
The priest ends his introduction with, “If anyone has reason to object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
My stomach bottoms out as Joey clears his throat. My gaze jumps to him, but he just smirks at me, apparently wanting to steal my smile.
Little worm.
I don’t know how I ever loved him. I can hardly stand to look at him now, with his stupid morally superior face, as if he didn’t have his dick buried in a stripper last night. The audacity, honestly.
He’s just mad that I won the breakup.
And the better brother.
My smile returns and I squeeze my almost-husband’s hands.
He squeezes them back, his broad shoulders relaxed. Despite having literally stolen the bride, he has not one bit of concern a single soul will speak up.
And they don’t.
“Very well,” the priest says with a nod. “Then we shall proceed. Marcus, Jessa, have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, freely and willfully?”
“Yes,” I murmur.
“I have,” Marcus confirms.
“And are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love, honor, and cherish one another as long as you both shall live?”
“Yep. She promises to obey, too,” Marcus adds, winking at me.
“Oh my god,” I mutter, feeling my face flush. “I do. I am. Whatever I’m supposed to say here that means yes.”
“See? Obedient.”
The priest smirks faintly at Marcus’ bullshit and I swear I hear a low growl come from Joey, but I don’t even glance at him.
Marcus told me no more of that. No more looking back. And why should I? I have so much more to look forward to.
___
The rest of the ceremony goes off without a hitch.
Marcus kisses me, and we’re presented to our guests as Mr. and Mrs. Marcus Peterson. Marcus ushers me down the aisle with a firm hand on the small of my back, and guests blow bubbles as we climb into the limousine.