“You’ve checked he hasn’t had to…cancel, or anything, right?” my mom says casually, making me stiffen. God, does she just think I couldn’t possibly make a man like me or something?
Defensive, I spin on my heel and hold my head high with all the fake confidence I can summon. My sister is distracted by the makeup artist touching up her lipstick, so my mom’s focus is entirely on me when I say,
“Actually, he’s already downstairs waiting for me.”
“Well,” she presses her lips together. “Lucky we won’t be keeping anyone waiting much longer.” She turns to Carly, smiling wide. “Ready to get married, my darling?”
My mom goes ahead while the other bridesmaids and I line up; my dad suddenly appears and takes my sister’s arm. The ceremonial room is at the bottom of a dramatic, sweeping staircase. I clutch my bouquet tight as I descend to the slow music and pray I don’t roll an ankle or miss a step on the way down. I usually pride myself on my ability to walk, or run, in heels, but my nerves are so high that my usual confidence is shot.
The guests line each side of the aisle as I walk down, but there’s one set of eyes that I can feel on me like a physical touch. There are eighty faces looking up, yet I don’t see a single face clearly. Except one, only one, Jake’s. When my sister enters in a cloud ofsilk, everyone turns to watch her as I take my place at the front, but Jake’s gaze stays stuck to me.
The ceremony passes in a blur of emotional tears and heartfelt vows, and then we’re whisked away for photos. I smile for the camera and congratulate my sister and her new husband, but my mind is back inside, wondering what Jake’s doing.
The first thing I do when we enter the reception is make a beeline for the bar. I order a tequila sunrise and drink half of it in one gulp; the sweetness masks the alcohol's taste, just the way I like it.
An arm wraps around my waist from behind, and I jolt, my drink sloshes dangerously close to the rim. It takes me a second to rememberwhya tall, handsome man would be holding me close, and when my brain manages to reboot, I remember to smile as I look up at Jake.
For a second there, I almost forgot this was fake.
The urge to melt into Jake’s arms is so strong I have to take another drink to swallow it down.
“Hey, princess,” he murmurs in my ear, and I have to tense every muscle in my body to stop myself from visibly shivering.
“Hey,” I say back, “how have things gone so far? Been grilled by any relatives? Blown our cover yet?”
Jake gasps like he’s terribly insulted. “Oh, you wound me,” he says dramatically, placing his free hand on his chest like I’ve hurt his heart. “Have a little faith.”
I roll my eyes, but can’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Okay, okay,” I soothe. “I apologize for doubting you.”
He steals my drink from my hand and finishes it off, grinning when I playfully slap my hand on his chest in protest. “Forgiven,” he says, his hold on my waist tightens a little. “I think we’re both going to need another drink to get through this, right? Go mingle while I join the mob at the bar.”
I thank him as he goes to join the crowd trying to get drinks, and it’s not long before the relatives descend. By the time Jake returns with our drinks, a Sex on the Beach cocktail for me that makes Jake wink when he hands it over, and a whisky on the rocks for him, I’m fielding questions from three different aunts.
“Oh, love of my life, there you are!” I say, perhaps a little over-enthusiastically, as Jake makes it to my side.
“My darling,” he says back with equal over-the-top enthusiasm that makes me grin and stifle a laugh. “Even those few minutes apart were too long.”
I snort, then hide it with a gulp of my drink. Jake stands behind me. He wraps one arm around my middle and pulls me back against his firm body. I fight the urge to squirm, suddenly acutely aware of every place we press together. In my heels, I’m at the perfect height for my ass to press tight against his crotch.
“Isthisthe boyfriend we were just hearing so much about?” my aunt May coos, looking him up and down appraisingly.
Jake doesn’t even tense under the scrutiny. It hits me that he’s probably used to being stared at, judged by strangers, and scrutinized by coaches. An unexpected wave of protectiveness washes over me. I lean back against him as though wanting to shield him from my family’s judgment.
“Well, he’s certainly very handsome,” my great-aunt pipes up. “Tall, too.”
“Yes, you’d make beautiful children together,” Aunt Judy adds, always the one to stir the pot. She and my mom share that lovely trait, being sisters and all.
I feel my face go hot at the mention of us having kids, and force myself to push away the thought of Jake getting me pregnant. I try, but fail to ignore the heat that coils low in my stomach.
“I can only hope that Cara puts up with me long enough to reach the marriage and children stage,” Jake says, a smile in his voice.
The aunts keep needling him, and my mouth slowly drops open. Turns out I had no need to worry. Jake is anexpertat fooling my family. He’s charming and kind and tells just the right amount of jokes to keep the conversation light. Wow, socially, a ‘pro’, too.
I stare up at him with shock and gratitude in my expression, damn impressed.
“Aww, see how she looks at him?” Aunt May says in her version of a whisper to Aunt Judy. “She’ll be following in her sister’s footsteps before long, I tell you.”
“Can’t fake that kind of love,” the other woman agrees, nodding along. “Oh to be young again…”