Stricken Resolve (31 page)

“I don’t give a
fuck
Emily. He doesn’t
belong with you!”

I don’t think so! That isn’t going to
fly.

Furiously I stand up from my chair and it
comes crashing down behind me.

“You do not speak to her that way!” I roughly
chastise.

“Oh really? What are you going to do about
it?” He stands up with obvious disregard to his own personal
health. If I wanted him dead, it would take three seconds; he would
do good to remember that.

“Johnathan, don’t make me show you. You don’t
want that,” I bark, shaking my head. Stopping his temper tantrum
would be good right about now. I don’t think I can control my anger
much longer. I can feel my cool demeanor slipping.

Calm down man, keep it together. You can’t
slip and add more problems. She doesn’t need that.

Breathing in deep, I concentrate on the
inhale and exhale of oxygen, willing my fury to fade into mild
resentment.

“Listen, you two! James, sit down.” Emily
pushes me out of the way so she is standing between me and
Johnathan. My arms instinctively shoot out and wrap around her,
anchoring her tightly to me and she lets me. If he blows his top, I
have to protect her and just touching her keeps me grounded. I need
that right now.

“Now you listen here, Johnathan. You will get
that sick fucking head out of your ass and think straight. You have
Cammy.” Sharply, she points directly at his woman. “Do you realize
what you acting like this does to her? One minute you want to be my
friend, the next you ogle with your eyes and now you’re angry I
want to be married and happy with the only man I love? Get the fuck
over yourself. The world isn’t Johnathan’s world. It doesn’t
revolve around your goddamned mood swings. Now man the fuck up and
cut the shit. I
am
marrying James and that is final. Take it
or leave it. You either hop aboard the Emily and James train of get
left at the station because asshole, I
am
marrying him. You
are
going to be happy for me and you are even going to
attend the godforsaken wedding. You selfish, pompous, sadistic,
dickhead. You got me?”

Wow, now that’s one hell of woman! I can
almost see the fire smoking off her body with how enraged she is.
She is staring right at him the entire time she lets loose. Is it
wrong to say that I’m a little turned on at this protective
display? Because my manhood is starting to wake up.

Turning around in my arms, she grabs my
crotch and gives me a dirty smile.

“Come on honey, we are going to go fuck!”
Pushing me backward, I follow her lead, I’m not going to argue if
she wants me to service her. I’m more than a willing
participant.

Looking over her shoulder, paying special
attention to Johnathan, she says, “Now if you’ll excuse us, I have
some time to make up for. Which includes having my pussy hammered
by
my
Papa Bear's hot dick. You all enjoy your meals and
clean up when you are done. I need to feed the whore.”

Enthralled with her strong sexiness, I follow
her upstairs and to the guest bedroom. It’s show time.

Chapter Nineteen

~Emily~

Two weeks later- The Wedding

“You ready to get hitched, hot mama?” Stacy,
my all adoring maid of honor, teases, pinning my silver, crystal
encrusted tiara in my long flowing hair using bobby pins. This
beauty was a present from him as my
something new
wedding
gift. It’s gorgeous, heavy and probably cost him a small
fortune.

“Yes, Stace, I’m more than ready.”

Smoothing my hands down the sides of my
simple white flowy, strapless, sweetheart neckline wedding dress, I
give myself a once over in my bathroom's floor length mirror. I
really do look fabulous in this gown. My hair is down, no veil;
those are too archaic, and I’m going barefoot with freshly French
pedicured toes, adorning my simple silver anklet from Claire around
my right ankle and I’ve never felt better.

“Voila!” Stace steps back to examine his
masterpiece. He’s done everything, including my makeup and
selecting my dress. My
something blue
is a darling solitaire
sapphire necklace from Johnathan and Cammy. My mom, who’s tending
to the twins, gave me her wedding garter as my
something
borrowed
and James, my sweet sweet James, provided the
something old
, bequeathing me his fraternal grandfather’s
embroidered J handkerchief. That I have gently tucked down the
center of my cleavage for easy access, just in case I can’t stop a
highly probable crying fit. Stacy’s already had to reapply my
makeup twice because I’ve lost my proverbial nuts and bolts.

Shit, just thinking about crying and today,
makes me want to cry! Damn it all to hell. Oh crap. I didn’t mean
that. I meant, stupid eyeballs.

“No, stop,” Stacy scolds, shoving a tissue
into my fanning hands that I have flapping close to my eyes, trying
to dry my watery sockets.

“I can’t help it,” I blubber, dabbing my eyes
before the spill over and smear my canvas.

“I know, it’s an emotional day for you
darling, but you’ve gotta keep it together.”

“Five minutes,” Cammy says poking her head
into my bathroom. “Wow, Emily you look beautiful. Maybe we should
have thought twice about inviting Johnathan or maybe we should ask
the preacher to skip over the;
speak now or forever hold your
peace
, part.”

Chuckling, I toss the tear soaked tissue in
the wicker trash can.

“He’ll be fine.”

I’m trying to reassure her, even though I’m
not quite sure that’s the truth. Johnathan’s been a basket case for
the better part of the last two weeks. The closer the wedding
nears, the stranger and clingier he’s become, to Cammy mostly, but
I’ve also had to bear the brunt. James has deterred him away from
me a good majority of the time. But, last night he was sitting on
the couch in the living room next to me when he sort of copped a
feel, right after I unlatched Eric. Milk seeped from my nipple and
he was the one to catch it with his finger and suck it into his
mouth, groaning as soon as my milk touched his tongue. It was
highly erotic, if it was coming from my Bear, but coming from
Johnathan it kind of freaked me out.

“I don’t...”

“Can I come in? Is she going to see me? Did
you ask her?” Johnathan cuts her off, he’s frantic, sputtering
words a million miles an hour. Today is not the day for this
Johnathan. Can’t it wait until tomorrow?

“Hold on,” she snaps at him, and turns back
to face me.

“Tell her, tell her, tell her I need to speak
with her.”

Sweet Jesus, he has got to calm the fuck
down. This hopped up on sugar shit’s got to go. After that day in
the dining room, he’s not been as big of a jerk to James about
marrying me. He’s tried—and I do mean tried, to climb aboard the
wedding train. But he’s not quite there yet.

Ignoring him, she raises a brow and I give
her the approval nod. The nod that gives her permission to allow
him to see me. I’m not in the mood but I can’t let him ruin the
ceremony without talking this out. I know he’s going to have plenty
to say.

“Alright,” she huffs, pushing the bathroom
door wide open and my spastic friend pushes past her and into the
bathroom where he stops dead in his tracks, his eyes locking onto
my wedding dress and he loses it. He falls to the ground and breaks
into a fit of all out crying.

What is his deal?

I glance to Cammy and she appears to be more
angry than worried about this outburst of emotions. I turn to see
Stace and he’s watching Johnathan just as the rest of us are.
Crying in a black suit and tie on my travertine floor. What do I
do? Should I stop him? Today is not the day for emotional
breakdowns unless you’re me, the Bride.

Staring down at Johnathan and back up to
Cammy, in her pink summer dress and sandals, I mouth ‘go’ and she
listens without a second thought. Shutting the door behind her as
she leaves.

“Johnathan, what’s wrong?” I finally speak
up, I still can’t believe he is acting this way.

“I don’t want you to marry him,” he cries,
face in his hands, knees curled up into the fetal position.

Poor guy. I hate seeing him like this.

“You have Cammy, Johnathan. You aren’t
supposed to act this way on
my
wedding day. I’m going to
marry James. I love James.” I talk softly, steadily, coaxing him in
my sweetness, trying to get him to stop this madness.

“But...” He looks up at me, swiping away his
tears. “I love you too. I love you more. More than the rest of
them. More than Stacy—” he nods towards Stace— “More than James,
Cammy, Deacon or any of them combined. I love you that much.”

Sounding like a little kid whining, I can’t
help but smile, which makes him frown even deeper. He’s like an
adorable three year old, tangled in a web of formidable
emotions.

“I’m serious, baby, I love you more than the
rest of them. You aren’t supposed to marry that big goon. You’re
supposed to marry me.”

I can’t hold it back any longer; I belt an
amused laugh and grin at him.

“Don’t give me that, baby. I’m serious.”
Pouting his lips with weepy eyes, I kneel down and kiss his
forehead.

“I love you, Johnathan. I’m not going
anywhere. I’m living with you, I’m not moving away. James, the
twins and I, are all staying put. We are just tying the knot,
honey. Stop this nonsense and be happy for me—for us. You have your
kinky ‘bitch’ and I have my soul mate. We have both lucked out. We
have each other and people who love us.” I lovingly caress the
middle of his forehead to his temple and he sighs, relaxing his
tense shoulders, producing a rather weak smile. I’ll take it. Weak
smile is better than no smile at all.

“That’s my big man. Now, honey, stop ruining
my day and get your ass out there so we I can get down that aisle
and the party can start.” I grab his arm and try to haul him from
the ground and he lazily accepts my help and stands. Wrapping my
arms around his neck, I pull him into a brief hug, kiss him on the
cheek and rush him out the door.

Okay, disaster averted. Emotional basket case
still on the loose but I just pray that he can keep it under
control until I finally saunter sexily toward my hunk of a man, who
is probably wondering where the hell I am.

Grabbing Stacy’s arm, I tug him hastily from
the room. We are already five minutes behind schedule and I want to
get married just as the sun is setting. Exiting my bedroom I nearly
plow into my giant of a dad, who stops me and envelops me in a bone
crushing hug.

“Okay, Dad, I can’t breathe.”

“Oh, sorry, sweetie, you ready?” Letting me
go, he offers me his arm and I tuck mine into his elbow.

Stacy takes the lead as my only attendant and
we trail him out the back doors and into the grass just before the
raised deck.

Standing in the plush grass, I squash my toes
in to focus on anything other than my deep seeded emotions. Stace
is right, I have to hold my head high and preserve the melt down
for after the ceremony. I can’t ugly cry in my wedding pictures.
Those will be….well—ugly.

The Prayer
begins to play as the four
piece orchestra and piano welcomes me to the top of the deck.
Offering me the perfect view of the ceremony and ocean. Where eight
boats are anchored in shallow waters, undoubtedly taking long
distance photos of my wedding. Stupid paparazzi. Putting the
gawkers on ignore, before I lose my cool, I turn my gaze to soak in
my ceremony. On either side of the silk white aisle runner,
littered with red and pink rose petals, are forty white wooden
folding chairs and my friends and family who are patiently standing
barefoot alongside them. All of their attention is focused on me
and my father, awaiting my descent down the steps and aisle to meet
the love of my life at the altar, that is set on a white raised
platform with a vine and red rose draped pergola. As much as I
prefer daisies, the roses are breathtaking.

“Are you ready, sweetie?” My dad, pats my
hand, full of loving encouragement and I nod assuredly.

“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”

Slowly we descend the stairs, one careful
step at a time. The glorious California sun is just falling into
the horizon, over the darkness of the deep blue ocean.

Gliding my bare feet onto the silky smooth
runner, I nervously glance up and lock eyes with the love of my
life, who is intently watching me with the biggest, warmest smile
adoring his handsome face. Standing tall, attempting to exude
confidence, I gracefully promenade up the silk runner keeping ahold
of the one thing that gives me the strength, my love, my Papa Bear.
Suddenly everything around me fades into foggy oblivion and all I
can see is him, wearing his black linen pants, a silk black dress
shirt scrunched up around his forearms, barefoot and radiating all
the love one person can possess, toward me. Silently encouraging me
with his charming smile and hazel eyes.

I can do this. I can finally marry the man I
was destined to be with. I can stand in front of thousands of fans
and in front of the media, I can surely get over this thick knot
bunched in the pit of my stomach. Forty closest family and friends
shouldn’t trigger my anxiety but I can’t help it. This is my
wedding day!

Ending in front of the pergola, James comes
down to greet me, offering my father a strong handshake, and takes
my hand into his, guiding me up the two steps in front of the
justice of the peace.

I can’t believe this is happening! I don’t
know if I can talk. I’m supposed to recite my own vows. What if I
screw them up?

Squeezing my hand, James knocks me out of my
reverie and back into the overwhelming present.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” Leaning down, he
places a sweet kiss on my cheek. “I’m nervous too,” he whispers,
staring straight into my eyes.