Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol #1) - Fiona Cole Page 0,73
deepened with this frown like the weight of all we lost sat too heavy for him to bear. My nose burned when I forced myself to hold back from running into his arms. I wanted the man who’d threatened my prom date. I wanted the man who took me to a One Direction concert and even danced with me. I wanted the man who held me when I cried over losing Mama.
He looked like that man, but I knew he wasn’t, and I ached with the truth.
“You look beautiful, Verana.”
“Thank you,” I squeezed out past the lump choking me.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, taking a step forward, almost pleading.
“I want to.”
And there it was, the reminder of all we’d lost. His eyes slid closed, hiding the adoring love he may have had for me. When they opened, all that was left was the void of all that was missing.
A barrier to slide in place like it did in business meetings. His jaw snapped closed, and he swallowed, adjusting the sleeves on his jacket as he stood tall.
“Then let’s go,” he said.
Raelynn grumbled, but thankfully, stayed silent, getting in line.
My father linked his arm through mine, and I shut down all I’d lost, focusing on slow deep breaths, waiting for the bridal march.
“Maybe I can talk to your groom after the wedding. Business stuff.”
My eyes slid closed, controlling the flood of disappointment as the dream I’d had faded further away.
“Sure, Dad.”
The song started, and the doors parted, revealing the long nave lined with flowers and guests. The tall arched ceilings stretched above, making everything look so small. Each click of my heels against the tile vibrated up my body to my chest, making my heart skip a beat. The organ music filled the massive church and pressed in on my chest.
I began to shake but kept walking.
I was doing this.
It was happening.
If I turned and ran, would Raelynn follow? Would Austin hold everyone back? Would I make it to the car before Nico made it to me?
Nico.
I looked to the end of the aisle, and there he stood, stunning in a black tux. His hair styled to perfection, his beard trimmed shorter, framing his full lips perfectly.
I’m going to kiss you, Verana.
My heart stuttered for a whole new reason.
I met his dark eyes and took my first deep breath.
We were in this together. It may not be the marriage I dreamed of, but it was a partnership—one that I got to choose. One that I was safe in.
Sometimes Prince Charming is everything you need when you didn’t know you needed it.
Mama’s words wrapped around me, reminding me that just because she wasn’t here physically, didn’t mean she wasn’t with me always.
I didn’t look away from Nico the rest of the walk. He met us at the altar wall, and as soon as my hand slipped into his, I stood taller.
Before I knew it, my lips promised to be his, and his promised to be mine.
Before I knew it, the priest said, “You may kiss the bride.”
My heart thudded so hard, I wondered if Nico could see.
He lifted my veil, giving me the first clear view of flowers and candles. But I couldn’t look anywhere but him.
He leaned in, and I held my breath.
I’m going to kiss you, Verana.
“Are you sure?” he whispered inches from my lips.
I breathed a laugh, the question catching me so off guard. Meeting his eyes, I slicked my tongue across my bottom lip, loving the way he followed the movement and did the same to his own, and shrugged. “I guess.”
With a growl at my playful answer, he closed the gap and crashed his lips to mine. His long fingers spanned my waist, stretching up my back, getting tangled in my veil. He pulled me in, touching every part of our bodies together.
Our first kiss was on our wedding day, and it was just as indecent and passionate as our first night together.
It didn’t matter that there were over a hundred guests watching. It didn’t matter that we stood on one of the oldest altars in all of New York. It didn’t matter that a priest stood five feet away.
Nothing mattered except the feel of his lips moving on mine.
Nothing mattered except the fireworks shooting off throughout my body, bringing every inch to life.
Nothing mattered except how I didn’t want it to end.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, burrowing my fingers into his hair, holding him just as tight as he held me.