Page 69 of Conflict
A smile crosses my lips when Knox Jr. slides his arm around Amelia’s waist and leans in for a kiss. Her blush deepens, if possible, but she accepts his lips.
After a loud smack, she pulls away and claps her hands together. The woman’s a force to be reckoned with, barking orders like a sharp drill instructor.
In the melee that follows, I lose sight of Shane. I’m shuffled along into a limo with my sister, Branson, my cousins, and Jeremy. Ava’s bouncing with excitement, and I wish it were contagious.
I’d be lying if I said I’m not disappointed as Shane strolls past the limo and slides into a sleek older-looking Mustang behind us. I try to push all thoughts of him out of my mind, but it’s no use. If anything, his proximity only made thoughts of him intensify.
It seemed easy to fight my attraction when he wasn’t right in my face, but since my heartbeat still quickens just at the sight of him, I don’t know how strong I’ll be. I don’t actually know why I want to be.
We’ll be in close proximity over the next twenty-four hours. Twenty-four long, painful hours which will be spent with longing, desire, regret, and possibly stupid decisions, especially if I drink too much champagne. And the Wellingtons? According to Ariana, they only serve the best, so how can I not indulge?
“Where’s Jace?” Ariana asks Lexi.
Lexi gives her a warm smile. “You must’ve missed him while Branson was…um, greeting you at the bottom of the stairs.”
“While he was kissing her, Aunt Lexi,” Ava corrects, wrinkling her little nose.
The mouths of babes.
Lexi looks to Jeremy and Sierra. “You two are the worst influences.”
Jeremy leans across the car and kisses his wife, much to Ava’s chagrin. Then he gives Lexi a wry smile. “What you mean to say is we’re setting the best example.”
“Weren’t you just saying Ava will never get married?” I interject.
Lexi cuts in just as Jeremy’s about to protest. “Even though we’re so close to the venue, Jace didn’t want to let Maya ride in the limo.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s so protective of her.”
At that, Jeremy and Lexi get into a debate over the difference between protective andoverprotective. Sierra just shrugs at me as if she’s used to it. I enjoy listening to my family bicker.
Fortunately, because the Wellingtons opened their home for the wedding party to stay, the ride to the venue isn’t long. I glance out the window, my eyes widening when we pull up to the Belle Mead Plantation, not far from the Wellingtons’ home. It’s where both the rehearsal dinner and the wedding are being held. I’m in complete awe as we make our way down the drive. White lights twinkle everywhere, and delightful red bows on wreaths adorn each window. As it’s a Christmas wedding, the grounds are covered with Christmas cheer.
I couldn’t imagine a more magical setting for a winter wedding; it’s the perfect place for two to become one.
Speaking of, Branson and Ariana have been silent since Jeremy and Lexi’s debate. I glance over at my sister, who’s holding hands with her groom, gazing up at him with demure eyes. Branson’s head is tilted towards her, his unrelenting stare locking her in tight. All the while, his hand rests on her bump as if protecting what is his. Seriously. If the desire blazing in his eyes is any indication, Ari must be exhausted from all that ravishing.
Lucky lady.
The whole setting is all so romantic, and I sigh, for a split-second wondering if this will ever happen for me. I push the thought aside as we park and exit the limo, taking in the sights around us. Ava’s excitement leads us inside, where the plantation is much like the outside: a true Christmas wonderland. Soft sounds of “White Christmas” lead us to the banquet room, where an older gentleman in a neat suit is sitting at a grand piano, his fingers moving along the keys with expert precision.
Over the next half hour, the priest leads us through the wedding rehearsal. As I make my way down the aisle, I’m determined to keep my eyes off Shane.
I fail with such misery that Kathy Bates would approve.
When my eyes meet his, I nearly trip over my heels right here in the middle of the aisle. His intense gaze is one I’ve seen before. Only once—that night he took my virginity, the look of pleasure on his face after we both came. His head tilted back, his eyes hooded, nearly closed, with a broad smile showcasing a dimple I hadn’t seen in the dark.
His appraising glance tells me all I need to know.
Shane Wellington likes what he sees.
And what he sees is me.
These will be the hardest twenty-four hours of my life.
Or perhaps the most incredible, most pleasurable, if I stop being so damn stubborn and just give in.
Because let’s be honest.
When you get a taste of decadence, one bite is never enough.
