Til Debt Do Us Part (Married At Midnight #4)

Chapter 17

Seventeen

Dare

U sing a hand to shade my eyes, I look out over the cliffs at my beach estate. The Cliffs estate seemed like the ideal place to have my assistant Rob organize the wedding festivities. But as I wait for Talia to present herself and walk down the aisle that’s laid out behind me, I feel the flutter of my pulse. My body seems to think that I am sprinting, though I’m doing nothing of the sort.

There is no point in denying it. I’m nervous.

I run a hand down the vest of my elegant three-piece tuxedo, glancing at the crowd of seated guests. The ceremony attendees are a who’s-who of wealth and glamor. There are several titans of industry seated in the audience, each a nebula with their wives and their assistants all around them. Filling in the rest of the audience are a mishmash of stars and starlets, business contacts, fashion designers, and countless other so-called important people.

All called here at the last minute to witness my lavish, extravagant wedding.

I see Remy seated in the first row. Next to him are my father, my uncle Felix, and two empty seats. Apparently they saved the spots for my brother Burn and my ex Daisy. I didn’t invite them, but I am not foolish enough to think that they won’t show up.

Remy will make sure that they do. He likes to see people squirm. And he has undoubtedly sensed that there is bad blood between Burn and I.

I am standing all the way at the very edge of the cliffs. The guests are seated in white folding chairs, the guest list so large that half the lawn from here to the house has been claimed for my audience. I run a finger underneath my bow tie, wishing that I had decided to wear a regular tie.

Tristen stands next to me, wearing an almost identical suit. He casts an eye over the large arbor trellis that has been set up for the wedding. It is a work of art in its own right, beautiful ash wood woven with thousands of pure white cherry blossom branches.

Tristen doesn’t say anything, but I can tell by the look on his face that he is wondering whether the trellis will blow away if it gets any windier today. His gaze slides between the black-suited reverend and back to the trellis.

I look over at the reverend. “You think I should ask him to hold the trellis in place?” I joke. “It’s not a religious ceremony, so he doesn’t have any sacred texts to hold.”

“You know, you get punchy when you’re nervous,” Tristen replies. “It’s not your most attractive quality.”

He runs his hand over his slicked back blonde hair and acts as if he hadn’t contemplated the very same thing.

“I just need everything to go smoothly today.” It’s not a lie, exactly. “I have a lot riding on this ceremony.”

He claps me on the shoulder. “I’m sure it will be okay.” He glances up at the sky and purses his lips. “I’m not sure how you managed to pull all of this together in a week, though. I’ve been engaged three times and every single woman I was with set a date more than a year out. It takes a lot of energy to plan weddings, I guess.”

“You sure that wasn’t just a stalling tactic on their part? After all, you haven’t actually gotten married.”

“Fuck off.”

He fiddles with his cuffs and looks out towards the back of the house, where the reception area is still having the final touches put on it. Wedding planners and caterers and florists practically sprint back and forth, trying to complete the vision that my personal assistant Rob told them to follow.

I shrug my shoulders. My assistant Rob planned the entire thing. And he has had more than a few months to plan it. I just moved the date up a little bit.

I start to say something further, but the front door to the house swings open. I turn my expectant gaze to the door, holding my breath for a second. I am all keyed up and expecting Talia to appear out that doorway any second now. But it’s only one of the wedding coordinators.

“I have a flask in my pocket. You want to take a pull from it?” Tristen whispers.

I shoot him a look and run my hand down my vest for the hundredth time. “No, I'm good. Talia can't be much longer.”

I look out of the crowd, who have started to turn around in their seats and fanning themselves, the bubble of their conversation washes over me like the sound of the ocean just behind me. I make a face and turn to look out over the ocean. Tristen turns too and slides me a concerned look.

“Should I go check on her?”

My lips thin. “Don't do anything. Everyone is watching us. I'll just text my assistant.” But before I can do that, the squeaky front door opens again. The audience falls silent. I whip around to see Talia step out of the door. She's absolutely radiant in a dress that is as white as fresh-fallen snow.

The sleeveless bodice is wrapped in white satin. It has delicate lace cutouts around the sides and intricate pearl beading that trails down from Talia’s waist while the skirt flares out dramatically at the knee. It has a train that flows out for a dozen feet behind her. Herhead is swathed in a delicate white lace veil. As she steps out, two assistants rush to keep pace with her, keeping her train from touching the ground.

Her friend Olivia and her Aunt Minnie follow her, their pale peach silk gowns and professional hair and makeup making them look incredible. Olivia and Aunt Minnie hurry to step in front of Talia, each of them making their way down the aisle towards me.

My gaze is riveted on Talia’s form as she slowly makes her way down the aisle. The guests have risen to their feet and watch in awe as Talia walks the last few steps towards me.

She’s beautiful. Absolutely radiant.

Her facial features are clearer as she gets closer to me. By the time she sweeps up the steps and reaches the Arbor trellis, I am not anxious anymore.

No, I am excited, as ridiculous as it sounds. She steps close to me and my eyes scan her face. It’s beautifully made up, but her features are totally blank. Is she shielding her emotions? Or does she feel as numb and uncaring as she looks?

I take her hand, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. “You look beautiful, darling girl.”

Talia’s blue eyes flash, her gaze skewering me. She doesn’t look even a little bit happy to be here in front of all these people.

I’ll admit, I’m a little taken aback. This is her wedding day. Shouldn’t my bride be a tiny bit happy? When I start to pull away, she squeezes my hand hard and stares at me. She clearly means something with the gesture, though I’m at a loss as to what exactly.

Talia leans close to my ear and whispers, “Stay with me.”

I grip her hand with both of mine, dropping a burning kiss onto the back. Then I hastily help pull the veil over Talia’s head, revealing her beautiful face. She has never looked so lovely as she does today… but it is hard for me to think that there was ever a moment when I wasn’t blown away by her elegance and grace.

She really is as close to perfect as a wife can be.

The reverend clears his throat and begins to speak. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

I glance over to see Aunt Minnie standing beside Talia. She is glaring at me, her wild gray curls springing from her head like sea spray. A quick peek at Olivia’s sulky expression makes me feel like I am missing something. Talia must have told them something to make them so mad.

I can’t think of anything else I did to deserve their ire.

Tristen elbows me. I snap my eyes forward, looking at the reverend for help.

“Do you have the rings?” he asks.

My neck heats. “Tristen has them.”

I hold out my hand impatiently. Tristen drops the rings in my palm. I feel like a robot as I take them, saying the words the reverend gives me as I slide the ring on her finger.

“Do you, Remington Darren Morgan, take Talia Rachel Chance to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

I look down into Talia’s face. She is blushing, looking as though she wishes that an earthquake would come and sweep her into the sea. I take her hand and realize for the first time that she might not want to be here.

Turning her delicate wrist over in my hand, I place a kiss on the pulse point of her wrist. Talia’s expression softens and she reaches up to cup my jaw.

“I do,” I swear. The words are a part of the ceremony that everyone is here to see. But I lock eyes with my wife, drawing her hand over my heart. Everyone might hear me speak, but my words are only meant for Talia.

The reverend intones, “And do you, Talia, take Dare to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

A tiny furrow appears between her eyebrows. “I do.”

The reverend looks between Talia and I. He gives us a somber smile.

“By the power vested in me by God and the state of Maine, I am pleased to declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

I drag Talia in, kissing her like her lips are air and I’m a man who is suffocating. Her taste is sweet and minty, her tongue snaking against mine. She puts a hand on my chest, pushing me away gently. The reverend clears his throat and I reluctantly let her go.

“May I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan!” the reverend calls out.

Talia takes my hand and we turn to the crowd. There’s a genuine smile creasing my mouth as we rush down the aisle. I slide my arm around my bride, the woman that I’m now given to protect.