52
WHAT IS HE DOING?
Olivia
I WAS HOPING TO INTERCEPT the server in the hallway, for obvious reasons.
The obvious reason is the way Cara’s head snaps like lightning at the knock on the door before it creaks open. When the server pops his head in, he looks about as terried as most of us have been all day. It’s only noon.
“What?” Cara barks out.
“I think it’s for me.” My chuckle is not anxious. Also, it’s definitely for me. I can smell it.
I take the tray with a smile and a quiet thank-you, then sneak into the bathroom and pry the lid o.
Oh, baby, yes. Come to mama. I might whimper, and I denitely bite my knuckles.
The second my teeth sink into that seven-ounce all-beef patty with American cheese, bacon, and grilled onions, my taste buds explode. My lids utter closed, a
moan rumbling through my entire body.
And then the bathroom door whips open.
“Are you kidding me right now, Liv?”
“I’m so sorry.”
The beautiful bride pins her arms across her chest. “You are not.”
“I can’t live o grapefruit slices and water. I need substance.” A cinnamon bun would also be nice, as would a mimosa.
Cara throws her arms in the air, nearly knocking my burger out of my hands.
“But I have to eat grapefruit and drink water so I can t into my dress! You’re supposed to be supporting me!”
“I do support you. But it’s your wedding, not mine. Plus, you look banging in your dress and you’ve got room to spare.” I’ve gone to every tting with her; I know this. I hold out my burger and wag my brows. Beyond the annoyance is the temptation twinkling in her eyes. “I can’t last until cocktail hour to get some real food into me.”
Cara laughs. It’s the humoring, exasperated kind, and I don’t feel good about it. “Oh, sweet, naïve Olivia. You think you’ll get to eat at cocktail hour? No, no, no. You’ll be getting your picture taken. No, you won’t be eating ’til dinnertime, babe.”
My entire face falls with this devastating news, and Cara lunges forward, gripping my wrist as she takes a bite half the size of my burger.
“Oh. Fuck. Yes. So good.”
“Don’t you dare ruin your makeup!” The makeup artist rushes into the bathroom, sighing when she spies me. “Your lipstick is all smeared.”
“Sowwy,” I lie, shoving the rest in my mouth.
Cara nudges me in the side. “You’re glowing. I’m not buying that you didn’t get laid last night.”
“I didn’t,” I insist for at least the fteenth time.
Cara woke me up at midnight to ask me how good I got dicked. Her words, not mine. The answer was no dick at all, but twenty-ve minutes later, with the lights out, our door opened, and Carter appeared at the foot of my bed. He didn’t say a word and neither did I, just enjoyed the way he snuggled up behind me, his lips pressed against my neck. Cara mumbled something about at least having the decency to make the sex silent so she could get her beauty sleep, but I was out minutes later with Carter wrapped around me, and when I woke this morning he was already gone.
So while I didn’t get dicked, what I did get was a decent night’s sleep for the rst time in a week. I feel refreshed and mildly hopeful, and that right there does wonderful things for a woman.
Two hours later, my lipstick is xed, I’m draped in shimmery champagne, and am several more inches o the ground than I’m comfortable with. I watch Cara’s mom fasten the nal button on her dress before she stands back, apping at her eyes.
I fold my hands together beneath my chin. “You look absolutely beautiful, Care.”
Forget glowing, she’s fucking luminous, shining from the inside out. She runs her ngers down the delicate satin and inhales a shaky breath. “You think so?”
“I know so.” I adjust the diamond on her nger and smile. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Oh, fuckers.” She dabs at the corner of her eyes. “I’m getting a little teary eyed over here.” She shakes her hands out. “And nervous. I’m nervous. What’s wrong with me?”
I still her frantic hands, squeezing. “You have nothing to be nervous about.
It’s you and Emmett. You’ve been planning this day since you met. Literally.”
“What if he gets cold feet? What if he backs out?” Her ocean-blue eyes bounce between mine. At my disapproving look, she giggles, dismissing her worries with the ick of her wrist. Her hands utter over her curves and she pops a hip. “Yeah, you’re right. Who could resist all this?”
“There’s my girl. Now let’s go catch you a husband.”
“OW.” I WHIRL AROUND, GLOWERING at Cara. “Would you quit pushing me?”
“I’m sorry. So sorry. I’m nervous. What are they doing? Why aren’t they ready?” She cranes her head like she’s trying to sneak a peek.
“Stop it. Calm down. They’re just standing around, talking. Emmett probably gured you’d be a half hour late like you are to everything else.”
He’s currently bent over a row of people, laughing without a care in the world, polar opposite of his bride. I scan the scenery, the trees and mountains a stunning backdrop to this gorgeous blue-sky day. Adam and Garrett are talking to a handful of their teammates, but I don’t spy Carter anywhere. Not that I’m looking or whatever.
“Will you go tell him we’re ready to start?” Cara shoves me toward the glass doors.
“Only to get you to stop pushing me.” I open the door and she gives me one last push, shoving me out into the garden, and I bounce o a brick wall.
Not a brick wall. My boyfriend. My… Carter.
“Oh. Shit. Sorry.” My ngers curl around his biceps as his nd my waist, steadying me on my ridiculous heels.
Carter’s eyes dance, dipping down my body, that half smirk all parts arrogant.
“Did you grow overnight?”
My knees wobble at the sight of him in his black suit, his usually unruly waves tamed and combed neatly to the side, face freshly shaven, showing o those heart-stopping dimples.
“Four and a half,” tumbles aimlessly from my mouth.
His brows quirk. “What’s that?”
“Uh, the, my…” I hike up my dress, giving my foot a wiggle. “Four and a half.
Heels. Tall.” Well, folks, it’s been grand. I’m heading home.
Carter’s face detonates with a cheek-splitting grin. “You are absolutely stunning, Miss Parker.”
“Thank you. Thanks. You too.” Why am I like this? “Your hair is… your face… Cara wants Emmett to know she’s ready.”
He chuckles, bending and pressing his lips to my cheek. “I’ll tell him.”
Cara’s arm whips out, pulling me back inside. “I heard more than I’d like to admit. Have I not taught you anything about playing it cool? You are a lost fucking cause, woman.”
I can’t say I disagree, so I line myself up behind the rest of the bridesmaids as the music starts. When it’s my turn to head down the aisle, I nd the only person I want to see.
Carter’s wearing a goofy smile as he watches me try to keep count with the steps in my head—the coordinator said I walk too fast, which I nd ironic, because, you know, I’m short as hell. He stacks his shoulders, standing taller, and his grin grows wider as I step below the archway and take my place. He gives me a wink as the music changes, and everybody turns to the glass doors as Cara steps through them with her dad at her side.
She oats down the aisle like the queen she is, beaming, nose wrinkling while she tries to ght o tears. Emmett is losing his battle, silent tears streaming down his handsome face, and Carter hands him the pocket square from his jacket.
I’m lost in their heartfelt vows, the promises they make to love and support each other for always, and Carter’s eyes remain locked on me while I swat at my tears.
The crowd of nearly ve hundred people jump to their feet and go wild as Cara and Emmett kiss for the rst time as husband and wife before she leaps onto his back and he tows her down the aisle and out of sight.
Carter steps up to me, oering me his arm. “Shall we, princess?”
I grin at him through my tears. “We shall.”
“YOU GONNA FINISH THAT?”
I glance at Carter pointing at the remainder of my prime rib with his knife, eyes wide with question. The moment I sigh, he grins, stabbing my beef and shifting it to his plate.
“I’m starting to think you only requested to sit beside me so you could clean my plate.”
“Nah. I requested to sit beside you because I’m fucking obsessed with you.”
His hand lands on my thigh, slipping below the slit, warming my skin, luring that heartbeat down, down, down. Bracketing my chin between his ngers, he angles his mouth above mine. “And so I can do this whenever I want.”
He kisses one corner of my mouth rst, then the other. My bottom lip next, followed by the bow in the top. And when his mouth nally covers mine, my lips part, eager for him, to feel him, taste him, give him every single part of me he desires.
Every bit of this day has been perfection, and I’m only mildly horried when I return from a trip to the bathroom after dinner to nd Carter talking to my brother in one corner of the ballroom.
And then the oddest thing happens. Jeremy laughs, they shake hands, and
then they… hug.
What. The. Fuck.
Alannah tears across the room, inging her arms around Carter’s legs, and he hugs her tightly before taking her out on the dance oor for a spin.
Jeremy sidles up next to me, tugging on my earlobe. “What, did you think I was gonna kill him or something?”
I slap his hand away. “It crossed my mind, yes.”
“Nah, Carter’s a good guy.”
My brows rocket up my forehead. “Never have those words ever left your mouth.”
He shrugs. “I can admit when I was wrong.”
“You literally can’t. Ever. Never in my life have you ever admitted such a
thing.”
“Ah, shut up.”
The music changes, and I smile at that familiar tune, the one Carter’s been singing to me since we met, as he ambles across the dance oor, smiling sheepishly at me.
“Did you request this song?” I ask him for the second time in my life.
“Uh-huh.” He holds his hand out. “Dance with me?”
I shove my wineglass into Jeremy’s chest and slip my hand into Carter’s warm one, watching it swallow mine up as he spins me into him. He’s the same as always, his smell, his touch, the way he holds me close, his lips at my ear as he sings along to his favorite song.
My body quivers as his breath rolls down my neck, and butteries erupt in my stomach when he dots my skin with millions of tiny, tender kisses in between
lyrics.
“Carter.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I—”
“I love you,” he tells me, bringing his face in front of mine. “I love you, Olivia.”
His lips, soft and gentle, touch mine as the music drifts to an end, ngertips on my lower back pressing me closer. When his name is called, he leans his forehead on mine, and smiles.
“Gotta go make my speech, Ollie girl.” He kisses me once more before heading to the podium. The simple act of clearing his throat and tapping the microphone earns him a holler from the entire hockey team, and his electric
smile lights the room. “How’s everyone doing tonight?” He grins through the roar of the crowd. “I’m so happy to have control of the only ve minutes Cara couldn’t plan tonight. She tried, obviously. I was given a very specic set of rules that detailed what I was and wasn’t allowed to say. But I accidentally lost that list.”
Cara pins her arms across her chest; that list was 100 percent real.
“For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Emmett’s best friend and teammate, Carter. I’m honored to stand beside him today as his best man, but it’s also very honorable of him, as he’s nally admitting to himself and everyone else that I truly am the best.” He pauses for the laughter that rolls through the room. “Cara, you’re absolutely fucking stunning tonight, a picture of perfection as you always are. Emmett is one lucky fucking man.”
“Carter!” Cara screams, slamming her sts down on the table.
“Oh, right. Oops.” He chuckles, looking mildly sheepish. “I’m supposed to limit myself to only ve curses. Guess I’m down one already.”
Cara holds up her pointer and middle ngers. “Two!”
Carter’s eyes bulge as he runs his ngers through his hair, messing up that perfectly coifed mop. “Two? Fuck me. I mean, shit. No. Fuck. Ah, fuck it. Cara, you know I can’t!” He ashes everyone his perfect grin, and Cara groans, dropping her face to her hands. “I can’t be perfect at everything. But anyway, enough about that. I was talking about how lucky Emmett is. He’ll leave here tonight with a beautiful wife who’s feisty, hilarious, and has one hell of a huge heart. And Cara, well… you’ll leave here tonight with a lovely new dress.”
Cara stands, holding the skirt of her dress as she does a little spin.
“It’s been an emotional day for all of us.” Carter points at the four-tiered cake. “Even the cake is in tiers.”
I drop my forehead to my hand as the room explodes with laughter. “Oh sweet Lord.”
“I met Emmett when I was eighteen when we were drafted to Vancouver. If you can believe it, we didn’t click right away. There was a sense of competition between us, like we both wanted to be the best. Emmett was serious and focused, and I was goofy and easygoing. He was quiet and driven, and I was and still am exceptionally good-looking.
“Emmett, I wormed my way into your heart, breaking your shell one inappropriate joke at a time until you let me see the big teddy bear you really are.
You’ve always inspired and pushed me to do better when you knew I could, and I’m proud to say I am the man I am today because I had a friend like you.
“And Cara. I knew. I knew the second I met you that you were going to steal my best bud. You walked into that room and his jaw hit the oor. All he wanted to do was spend all his free time with you, hide in the hotel room and talk to you on the phone all night instead of going out with us. I didn’t understand how he felt until I met…” His eyes move, nding me, and he smiles. “Until I met her.
And then it all made sense.”
Carter pauses, running a hand over his chest. “Watching you two create a life together has been incredible, and I know it’s only going to get better. How lucky you are to be sharing it with your very best friend. To the bride and groom.” He raises his glass, but holds up one nger. “Oh, and one more thing. Cara, this is from the guys on the team. Best of luck with Emmett. We found him to be useless in most positions, but we’re condent your experience with him later tonight will be satisfactory.”
I don’t have time to tell Carter how beautiful his speech was, even the tiers bit, because the DJ announces it’s time for the bouquet toss, and Jennie starts dragging me to the center of the dance oor with her and the rest of the women.
“I don’t want to,” I whine.
“I didn’t ask.” Jennie starts stretching out. “If I have to do it, so do you. But fair warning: Watch your back. We Becketts are competitive as fuck.”
“You can have it. This tradition is ridiculous.”
Cara gasps, spinning to me. “I know you didn’t just call anything at my wedding ridiculous, Parker.”
I press my lips together, shaking my head.
“You’re damn right. Now get into goddamn position.”
With a sigh, I stand next to Jennie, Alannah bouncing up and down in front of me, and I seriously hope one doesn’t pummel the other to the ground in a bid to get this fucking bouquet. I roll my neck over my shoulders, close my eyes, and wait for this to be over as the crowd counts down.
“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!”
I wait.
And I wait.
Finally, I crack my eyes open. My heart does a backip at Cara standing in front of me, tears in her eyes as she smiles so brightly, holding out her bouquet.
To me.
She wraps my ngers around the ribbons of silk and velvet that keep the stems together, then spins me around to where Carter stands before me, waiting, smiling.
“Rest assured the beautiful bride gave me her full support to do this here tonight.”
Cara’s chin lands on my shoulder. “We’ll reect on my selessness later.”
Full support to do this? Do what? Selessness? Why am I so hot, and more importantly, why is Emmett pointing his phone at me?
“Have I told you today why I love you?” Carter takes a step toward me, then another, his smile growing with each inch he eliminates. “I love you because you’re funny and snarky, sarcastic as all hell, and the night we met, you told me to go fuck myself.” He ignores the way Cara shrieks his name. “You’re also kind and soft, sensitive and sweet, the best auntie, and a teacher I would’ve died to have in high school. You’re not just my girlfriend; you’re my biggest cheerleader and my best friend.”
He takes my face in his hands, thumbs wiping at the overowing tears dripping down my cheeks. I don’t even know where they came from.
“Why are you crying, Ollie girl? I haven’t even gotten to the good stu yet.”
“I don’t know what’s going on, but you called me your best friend and your girlfriend,” I sob, folding toward his chest as I grip the loosened collar of his shirt.
His soft chuckle is warm against my lips as he tips my chin up to kiss me. He takes a step back, dipping his hand in his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box, and he sinks to one knee.
“I’m hoping to call you something else when I’m done doing what I need to do here.”
