Page 5 of It Shouldn't Be You
“It's Alexander Knight, but you can call me later. Or Alex. Considering youmarriedthis guy without knowing him, I’ll take that for the gentle letdown it was. You’re so kind not to break my fragile heart,” he jests, clutching his chest in mock heartbreak.
“More like your fragile ego, wanker,” Logan cuts in with a dark look at Alex.
Chuckling, Alex shoulder-checks him. “Someone is showing his cards early.”
“Looks like Lo might not be the ice king, after all,” Owen chimes in, then whispers something to Cora that earns him a heated glance.
“While I’d love to hear you two assholes banter all day, there’s a party waiting inside,” Logan grumbles, tilting his head towards the doors.
Okay, Mr Impatient.
“Hold up, there’s a procedure to these things, you know.” I sigh at his blank face, before manoeuvring everyone into pairs. “We have to let the bridal party go first andthenwe make our grand entrance.”
Honestly, men would be lost without us here to tell them what to do.
Cora and Owen lead the way, looking every bit the sickly sweet in love couple they are. Lily links arms with Alex and they follow close behind, leaving us alone for the first time. His glance down at me sends a strange jolt through me, his slight smile surprising.
“Let's go, Viking. People to see, food to eat and all that.” I link arms with him, but he grips my hip, drawing me into him before leaning down so we’re at eye level.
“Let’s do this, wife,” he growls, spins me back round and leads the way inside.
My head spins, thanks to the scent of his cologne hanging heavily in my nose and the feel of his huge hand burning into my side. But now’s not the time to dwell on it. It’s time to head into the reception and play our parts in this masquerade.
Entering the grand wedding reception room, the reason for choosing this venue becomes clear—the sheer size of the space. It’s designed to accommodate a top table with a glowing “Mr and Mrs” neon sign and thirty surrounding tables, each seating sixand adorned with floral heart centrepieces. As we make our way through the room towards the top table, a lot of hands reach out to pull me into hugs or even just squeeze my hand in support.
Yet, no one approaches my husband, and the lack of the Clan’s representation is glaringly obvious. As much as I don’t want to, a part of me aches for his loneliness. To only have less than ten people you want at your wedding speaks volumes for how he lives his life and not for the first time do I wonder what I’m walking into.
We take our seats, and my father rises to speak. “When I found out I was having a little girl, I knew this day would come. The day I’d trust another to guard her heart as much as her body. Logan, remember whose daughter you just married before fucking up, yeah?”
If someone had told me my dad would use this time to make a public threat against Logan, I would have said pigs would fly. I always pegged my dad to be the type to pull him aside and do it in low, threatening tones. Maybe even delivered with a bruise to two. Yet here we are. One very public threat issued, and all eyes pinned on my husband to clock his reaction. When he tips his head in acknowledgement with a soft, genuine smile, my dad turns his attention to me and continues, “Abbie girl, you’ve been the light in my life since you came screaming and kicking into this world and anyone who gets the privilege to see that light is lucky. Always remember that and don’t let anyone dim your light.”
I’m a mess of tears as I hug him tight. After we part, Logan clears his throat and stands.
“I assure you, Jack, that no harm will come to her under my watch. I look forward to her shining her light on dull and dreary Glasgow.” That draws a few laughs from the crowd before he continues, “I’d like to thank you all for being here today,to celebrate this union with us. Here’s to new beginnings.” He toasts, then sits beside me.
Soon, the waiters start bringing in the food and the room breaks out in chatter.
“You should feel proud.” That deep voice breaks my trance of taking in the excellent décor we made possible.
“Hmm?”
“Pulling this off in such a short timeframe.”
“Well, it would have been easier with some input from you, but I did my best.”
His arm drapes behind me as he leans close, his scent enveloping me. “Is that what’s bothering you, Princess? Upset we couldn’t meet sooner?” he murmurs in a low Scottish lilt that makes me clench my thighs.
Oh, he’s going to be trouble.
“I doubt anyone enjoys being stood up for a year. But don’t worry, Viking. I’m tough,” I manage to say, trying to keep my voice steady and not make it obvious how his closeness is affecting me.
“What if I said it was for a good reason and I promise to make it up to you?” Goddamn. If this man doesn’t give me some room to breathe, I might just pass out. From overheating. No other reason.
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” I tease, leaning in, our words hanging like a thread between us.
“Challenge accepted,” he rasps, his gaze darkened but playful. He keeps his arm around the back of mine and draws circles on my shoulder, chatting with others casually.
A hand on my knee nearly makes me jump out of my skin. Twisting round, I meet Mum’s concerned green eyes.
