Page 178 of Savage Hearts
“She missed her true calling writing love songs.”
Sloane chuckles. “Nat, your gown is hanging on the back of the bathroom door. We’ve got about ten minutes before the coordinator will come get us and we start down the aisle.”
As Nat goes into the bathroom to change, I say, “Which reminds me. Are there groomsmen we’ll be walking with?”
“No. Kieran and Spider will be waiting at the altar with Declan.”
“Oh. So what’s the order?”
“The order of what?”
“Like does Nat go in front of me, then I go, then you go?”
Sloane walks over to me and rests her hand on my cheek.
“No, silly,” she says, smiling. “The bride is supposed to walk down the aisle with the most important people in her life. So the three of us are walking down together, arm in arm.”
My chin quivers. My eyes well. I have to swallow around the rock in my throat. “If you make me cry, I’ll rip that tiara right off your head.”
“For a girl who showed up at my house looking like something out of theBackwoods Survival Guide,you’re a big softie.”
“I would’ve thought you’d think it was an improvement over all the gray fleece.”
“Honey, you went from sweatpants sloth toG.I. Jane. It was a lateral move, not an upward one.”
Looking stunning, Nat emerges from the restroom in her dress. We make a few last-minute adjustments to our hair and makeup, pick up our bouquets, and head out when the coordinator knocks.
And believe it or not, the ceremony goes off without a hitch.
Declan is glorious in his tux. Sloane is a fairy tale. They exchange vows and kiss to thundering applause.
Wisely, they omit the part of the vows where the priest asks if anyone objects.
There’s a small moment of awkwardness during the photographs afterward, when Spider does nothing but stare at me with such searing intensity, my ears burn. But it’s a momentary hiccup in an otherwise perfect event.
It isn’t until the reception that everything falls apart.
FORTY-EIGHT
RILEY
The reception is held at the Four Seasons Hotel in a magnificent ballroom. It has floor-to-ceiling windows, grand glittering chandeliers, and expansive views of the lush green Boston Public Garden.
Every guest has to pass through a metal detector on their way in and also undergo a pat-down by hand, performed by glowering Irishmen.
I’m surprised there isn’t a cavity search, these guys are that intense.
Sloane chose to forego a head table of the entire wedding party—another wise move—opting instead for a sweetheart table she and Declan sit at alone.
Marveling that she pulled all this together in a matter of days, I sit at a table with Nat, Kage, and five swarthy Sicilians wearing so much cologne, I can taste it.
Kieran and Spider sit at a table directly across the dance floor.
Every time I happen to glance in their direction, Spider is staring at me.
After everyone is seated, Nat introduces me to her fiancé.
He’s ruggedly handsome. With tousled dark hair, an unshaven jaw, and massive shoulders, he emits the kind of big dick energy every woman and man in the room can feel.
