Page 81 of Resisting You
I took a deep breath, focusing instead on the gentle curve of his smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and how they made my heart swell. Sensing my unease, he gave my hand a little squeeze, then turned to ask our officiant a question.
So why couldn’t I unfurl the knot in my stomach?
My eyes cut across the rows of seats to find our most unexpected guest sitting in the back row, her smile as sharp as broken glass.
Morgan.
That’s why I was so uneasy.
My breath caught in my throat as I spotted her, casually sitting forward as if she belonged there, as if she'd been invited when she knew damn well she wasn’t. She wore a light blue dress that hugged her frame, her red hair swept up in an elegant knot. Everything about her appearance screamedHollywood glam. Everything about her presence screamedthreat.
Based on Noah’s doe-eyed smile at me, I didn’t think he noticed her sitting back there yet.
"Rosa?" The wedding planner's voice snapped me back to attention. "Can we take it from the procession again? Just once more, with the timing of the music."
I sighed, but nodded. This wedding had turned into such a thing. What was supposed to be a small celebration to legitimize us has suddenly transformed into a spectacle, thanks in part to my parents and Kristen.
Even still, the end result was that Noah and I may just get our happily ever after. So I pulled up my big girl panties and went back to the end of the aisle with my eyes still fixed on Morgan.She raised her perfectly manicured hand in a little wave, smugness radiating from her like heat from asphalt in August.
Callie leaned into my ear and whispered, “What the hell is she doing here? I thought Noah told her to hit the bricks?”
“Hit the bricks?” Ronnie teases. “What are you, like eighty years old?”
Callie rolled her eyes at her big sister. “Mom told me I couldn’t swear today or tomorrow.”
“Since when do you listen to Mom?”
Lydia leaned in, smirking. “Since she threatened to put laxatives in Callie’s food tonight if she did.”
Callie sighed. “There was also mention of not allowing me to have any wedding cake tomorrow. I mean, that’s just cruel.”
“Ladies!” The wedding planner—whose name I’d already conveniently forgotten—clapped her hands together. “Can we focusplease?”
My father appeared beside me seemingly from out of nowhere just as a lilting, sentimental cover of “At Last” began. Despite everything going on, the song choice brought a smile to my face. Noah’s choice, actually and as I took my father’s arm, my gaze locked onto my husband as I took the slow stroll down the aisle.
I might be crazy, but it even looked like there was a slight moisture in his eyes.
Then, just as my father was handing me off to Noah, a phone rang in the back seat. Loud and blaring, playing “Baby Got Back” …Morgan.
Noah’s focus broke and he turned toward the sound, his body tensing as he spotted Morgan, who had the audacity to smile wider and wiggle her fingers at him. His jaw tightened, a muscle jumping beneath the skin before his smile dropped away entirely. His eyes darted nervously to me, then to Kristen, thenback to Morgan and her powder-blue, predatory stillness in the last row. Even from here, I felt his pulse leap with mine.
"I'm going to kick her out," Noah said, already moving. His hands had balled into fists at his sides. "Right now. This is our rehearsal, our wedding. She has no right?—"
I caught his arm. "Noah, wait?—"
But he was already striding down the aisle, purpose in every step. I hurried after him, my heart drumming against my ribs. The quiet chatter of our family and friends intensified as they noticed the tension cutting through the air.
Noah reached Morgan, his voice low but sharp enough that I could hear it as I approached.
"I thought I made myself clear yesterday… you’re not welcome here."
Morgan's smile didn't falter. "What do you mean? I was invited, Noah." She tilted her head, her eyes flicking to me. "Besides, I thought it would be nice to see your bridebeforethe big day. Congratulate her personally."
"Congratulate her on what, exactly?" Noah's voice had dropped even lower, dangerous now.
Morgan shrugged, a delicate lift of her shoulders. "On landing you, of course. What else?"
Before Noah could respond, a hand appeared on his shoulder. Kristen, his publicist, had materialized beside us, her expression composed but her eyes wary.
