Page 78 of You Are Cordially Invited

He opened his eyes and I fell into their soft grey warmth. “Yeah, baby, after that we call Sandy and Georgie.”

Chapter Fifteen

Reuben

“For Pete’s sake,Reuben, will you stand still for two seconds so I can get this damn thing straight?” Georgie fiddled with the pink tie while simultaneously blowing a stray lock of hair off her nose.

“It’s not going tostaystraight with the bloody soft collar I have to wear, is it?” I grumbled. “You’ll hardly even see it.”

She fixed me with a glare. “You will see it, but more importantly, so will Cam. That’s why I’m going to staple the back of the knot to the collar.”

I checked to see if she was joking, but apparently not.

She shrugged. “It’ll keep the rest hanging right. And don’t think for a minute that this is overkill,” she muttered, tugging again and cursing under her breath. “Cam will have my tits in a vice if I send you in there with a single thread out of place, and you know it.”

I bit back a smile and lifted my chin because, hell yeah, he would.

Cam’s detailed instructions to ourplanning teamhad been to keep the wedding ceremony brief and relaxed so that I could actually enjoy it and not be looking for a bed halfway through. To that end, Sandy had dialled back the ceremony from its original 4.00 pm timing to noon.

For the same reason, the reception was being held under a marquee in Cam’s parents’ oversized backyard. Cory would be comfortable, all the dogs could be in attendance, and I could crash in a bedroom if I needed some downtime.

Exhaustion remained my biggest hurdle. I was whacked most nights from doing absolutely nothing. But with the wisdom of hindsight, I wasn’t sure if handing the reorganisation of this rebooted wedding over to somebody other than Cam had been a smart move or not.

Firstly: Yes, there was no way Cam would’ve had time to do it himself. We’d both attended more medical conversations around my injury, recovery planning, and rugby future than I thought was humanely possible before they finally discharged me on Friday. It was a discharge Cam had a lot to do with, judging by the alarmed expression on Leyton’s face after he’d been taken for a ‘walk’ so Cam could discuss exactly why Leyton was still holding out, not to mention Cam’s smug smile when Leyton agreed I could leave.

Admittedly, there was no real need for me to stay other than an overabundance of caution on Leyton’s part. I’d been working with the physio every available moment she could spare, determined to get out on time, and I was doing great. Not to mention, it wasn’t like Cam was going to let a single hair on my head be harmed. Six days from my injury and I suspected he was now one of the pre-eminent experts on TQ injuries in the whole of New Zealand, and he certainly wasn’t past regaling Leyton with his knowledge on the subject at every opportunity. An invite to the wedding so Leyton could personally eyeball me was enough to seal the deal.

I’d recovered all my sensation and movement, although there was still weakness on my right side in comparison to my left, especially in the legs. It continued to improve, but I’d need a fair bit of strength training before we knew just how much. No one was prepared to offer an opinion on whether I’d recover to pre-injury levels, and the thought didn’t bother me as much as it probably should have. I was just so fucking grateful for what I had.

I was stuck with a soft collar for the immediate future, although I could remove it at night or lying down, something which had vastly improved the experience of my designated Cam cuddle time. My cock was fighting fit and looking to make up for lost opportunities, but Leyton had been very clear in the sexy-times lecture initiated by Cam, who was nothing if not thorough in his questioning, and the very straight Leyton had turned a deep and intriguing shade of crimson you didn’t see very often.

In summary, there was to be no penetrative sex for a little while in order to protect my spine, and I was to stay passive and on my back as much as possible. We had to be creative, and Cam had to do all the hard work. Those were our instructions.

Leyton clearly had no clue what he’d set in motion, because Cam had veritably radiated wickedness at his words, the practical application of which had necessitated a hastily made Do Not Disturb sign for my hospital room to protect innocent eyes from his creative tomfoolery.

Second: Yes, Cam had done his level best not to freak out completely or worry about every little thing our friends were doing without his say so. I was immensely proud of him. But there had also been some miserable fails along the way—like finding him locked in the staff toilet with his cell phone, stalking Georgie’s social media, and calling the photographer and catererjust to check. I’d hidden his phone for the afternoon.

Then there was the time I caught him eavesdropping on Sandy’s hushed conversation with Michael in the hallway outside my room. I’d dobbed him in and Michael had shut Cam in the cleaning closet with one of the nurses on guard until he and Sandy had finished.

Third: Yes, our friends had been good about keeping Cam in the loop and getting his feedback about the really important stuff—all except Michael who was currently riding high on my personal hit list for his merciless teasing. Teasing, which inevitably resulted in an agitated, irritable fiancé and an endless barrage of questions and doomsday scenarios fired my way for hours at a time—something akin to death by a million needle pricks.

Take, for example, Michael’s text requesting Cam’s decision on whether he preferred steak and cheese, or chicken curry pie for the rejigged main course option. Add that to a million others like it, and by the time I was ready for discharge, Cam looked like a pissy alley cat strung out on catnip and cruising for a fight.

So yes, I fully understood Georgie’s concern.

Happy with the tie, at last, she smoothed my crisp white linen shirt and patted my chest. Cam had wanted me in a classic black tux from the start, simple and elegant. And although the choice of pink for the tie fuelled my imagination, I had no idea what he was wearing, something I was almost more excited for than the wedding itself.

“There,” she said. “If he doesn’t give it at least a nine point five out of ten, I’ll kill him myself.”

“You’ll have to get in line,” I quipped. “There’s a whole queue of people crowdfunding his demise after this week.”

She laughed. “I have to admit it’s been fun watching him squirm and trying to pretend like not running everything isn’t driving him completely batshit. I’d give him a solid nine out of ten for effort, even though the actualisation of the intent barely made a four and could’ve done with a little more finesse. Still, it can’t have been easy for him.”

I snorted and brushed her cheek with my thumb. She looked stunning. Elfin features, a cheeky smile, and a heart big enough to swim in. “Yeah, Cam doesn’t do subtle or restrained. It’s like putting a time-release muzzle on a great white. You can still see all the teeth and there’s that look in their eye that says the clock is ticking.”

“Right? You do realise that when Michael told him I wanted to change my dress from floor length to mid-calf because of the change in venue for both the weddingandthe reception, Cam blew up my phone withsuggestions. I had to turn it off because I’d been two hours in the dressing room sending him photos, and the sales assistant was beginning to lose her shit. And also because we... disagreed on the final choice.”

“Hah. Well, I love what you’re wearing, and he will too.” I held her hand and she shyly did a twirl, the white taffeta cocktail dress with its line of tiny black buttons down the back billowed over a black tulle underskirt that screamed 1950s in the best possible way. She looked gorgeous.

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