Page 48 of Bad Boy Done Wrong
“Nice to meet you,” Rich said, grabbing Zach’s hand in a firm manly handshake and holding his gaze directly.
“You too,” Zach said, his expression just as serious as her brother’s.
She could almost feel the testosterone spike as they sized each other up. Zach must’ve passed because her brother immediately put Zach to work, helping him haul additional chairs in place under the tent.
Carrie met up with her nieces and sister-in-law and helped them add white streamers and bows to the chairs by the wedding pavilion as well as arrange some flowers for a beautiful backdrop. When she finished, she found Zach waiting for her at the end of the aisle. She had to fight the impulse to run down the aisle and leap into his arms. It was what she did after every separation. That moment of connection was like bottled sunshine bursting through her in radiant joy. If only all of their moments could be that simple.
He held his arms out to her like he knew what she wanted to do. She laughed and shook her head, instead walking sedately over to him. He hooked her around the waist and pulled her close.
She smiled up at him. “How’d it go with my brother?”
He inclined his head, a small smile playing over his lips. “He invited me to have cigars after the ceremony, but I don’t smoke.”
“He shouldn’t be either! Geez, he’s still smoking cigars! Gross. As a nurse, I’m offended.”
Zach stroked her back. “The point is more symbolic. The gesture invites familiarity and acceptance.”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you a shrink?”
“No.”
“Who’s not a shrink?” a familiar masculine voice said from behind her. Carrie turned and gave her dad a hug and a kiss on the cheek. He was seventy-two, but with the energy of a much younger man. Her mom was seventy with matching vitality.
“How’re you, sweetheart?” her dad asked, glancing at Zach curiously, who stood next to her, looking solid and respectable.
“I’m good, Dad. Love the tux.” She adjusted the lapels of his white tux. His white hair matched, neatly parted to the side. “You’re a handsome groom.”
“Thank you,” her dad said. “And who’s this young man?”
Zach offered his hand. “Zach Harrison, nice to meet you, Mr. Young.”
“You too. Call me Mark.” Her dad shook his hand and turned to Carrie. “You been dating long? Your mom hasn’t mentioned you were seeing anyone.” His brows drew together and she knew he was a little hurt to be left out of her life.
“No, not long,” she assured him. “Just a couple weeks.”
Her dad turned to Zach. “Where’re your people from?”
“Dad!”
“What?” her dad exclaimed. “I’m just making conversation.”
Zach straightened to his full height, shoulders back, chin up. He reminded her of a soldier, which was so at odds with his usual easy grace, she felt herself getting worked up in sympathy for him having to undergo the protective-father third degree.
“I grew up in Connecticut,” Zach said and offered nothing more.
“Mmm,” her dad said, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. “And where did you go to school?”
Carrie clenched her teeth. Really, all of this awkward talk was completely unnecessary.
“Well, sir,” Zach started with a quick glance to her.
“You don’t have to answer all his questions,” Carrie put in. “Dad, please.”
“Mark?” her mom called.
Her dad jumped and then clapped once. “Oh! I’d better go check on my lovely bride.” He took off to the side of the brick patio behind a trellis covered in greenery and white flowers. It was where the bridal party would wait for the big moment.
“Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony?” Zach asked.
