THAT MAN 5 (The Wedding Story-Part 2) (18 page)

“Baby, we’ve landed,” I breathed, breaking the kiss. Holy fuck. What a landing! My cock was still flying high.

She ran the tip of her talented tongue around her lush lips, licking off the remains of my release.

“Blake.
Ahem.
The handcuffs…”

“Right.” I lived by my father’s words: a deal is a deal. Except there was one little problem. I couldn’t find the fucking key.

Shitballs. This wasn’t part of the plan. It was time for our next activity and this was so not going to look good.

Jennifer

B
lake was not a happy camper nor was I. He was driving like a maniac. A Chevy pickup no less. He’d asked Mrs. Cho to have someone pick us up when we landed, but somehow that had gotten lost in translation and instead she’d rented him a pickup truck. As mad as I was at him, I’d do anything to see my metrosexual hubby behind the wheel of this vehicle.
That
man in a pickup was like Batman in an RV.

“We need to find a Walmart,” he grumbled.

“Why?” I gritted. I was still blindfolded and handcuffed, and I had no clue where we were except I knew it wasn’t some romantic island. I waited impatiently for his response.

“So, I can buy a chainsaw and saw off your handcuffs.”

Gah! The thought of Blake with a chainsaw sent a shiver down my spine. My life could be over. Mr. Born with a Silver Spoon in his Mouth was not exactly what I’d call handy. The only power tools he had any experience with were his tongue, his hands, and his cock.

“What about a locksmith?” My voice was urgent. “I’m sure one could make a key to unlock these damn things.”

“That’s a good idea, tiger.”

“Why don’t you take off my blindfold so I can keep my eyes peeled for one? And where the hell are we anyway?”

“That’s not happening. And I’m not telling.”

Two minutes later, Blake swerved off the road with a screech. My neck jerked painfully. I think I had whiplash. Horns were blasting at us from all directions.

“What the fuck are you doing, Blake? You’re going to get us killed!”

“There’s a Walmart straight ahead of us,” he replied brightly.

Ten minutes later, Blake was leading me through the bustling mega-store. He had his fingers curled around my neck since holding one of my pinned back, cuffed hands was not an option. I could barely move my fingers. The fucking handcuffs were cutting off my circulation. Oh, was he going to pay for this. Big time!

I could only imagine what people thought as I stumbled through the store, trying to keep up with Blake’s pace. Maybe they thought he was a bounty hunter who’d captured his prey. Or an undercover cop who was carting away a shoplifter. Well, at least with the blindfold, I couldn’t see their bewildered expressions.

“Slow down,” I yelled.

Without slowing down, Blake asked, “Where do you think we can find a locksmith? I’ve never been to a Walmart before.”

Of course not. Mr. Beverly Hills had lived a life of privilege. The only department store he’d ever stepped foot in besides Saks was Neiman Marcus. Needless Markup as Libby and I often called it.

“The hardware department,” I seethed.

“This store is so fucking big. That could be a mile away.”

“Ask. Some. One.”

Twenty long minutes later, because everyone Blake asked gave us different directions, we were back outside in the parking lot where a locksmith was stationed.

“Can you make us a key that will unlock these cuffs?” Blake asked him.

Standing with my back to the locksmith, I felt him take my hands in his and examine the cuffs.

“Sure, but it’s going to take two hours.”

Blake’s voice grew louder by an octave and desperate. “What! We have to be somewhere important in a half hour.”

Where the heck were we going?
I was more curious than ever.

Blake continued. “Do you have a Plan B? I don’t care what it fucking costs.”

The locksmith stretched my hands apart as far as they would go. He then splayed them on the counter. “Keep your fingers spread and don’t move an inch.”

BANG! My heart hammered. BANG again! Suddenly, my hands were free from one another. I massaged my wrists, not happy the cuffs were still circling them.

“Blake, how are we going to get these off?”

“We’ll figure it out later. For now, think of them as jewelry.”

Jewelry, my ass.

“How much do I owe you?” Blake asked my liberator.

“Forget it. It’s on the house. Just tell me, was the sex good?”

“Yeah. It was fucking amazing.”

Grimacing, I let Blake whisk me away. “How could you say that?”

“Lighten up, baby. You know you loved it.”

Damn it, he was right.

*

We were back in the Chevy. I wasn’t talking to Blake. Fuming, I kept my cuffed hands folded tightly across my chest. I’d had enough of this ruse. Blake’s shenanigans. A short fifteen minutes later, we turned off the freeway and began winding down some city streets. At what must be a red light, I finally broke my silence.

“Now, where are we going?”

“You’ll see in five minute.”

Sure enough, five minutes later Blake parked the truck and helped me out of it.

“Watch your step.” His arm around my shoulders, he ushered me up the curb.

“Can’t I take this damn blindfold off?” I asked, inhaling the intoxicating scent of roses and honeysuckle evocative of my childhood. Maybe he was taking me to some romantic garden. Several unsteady steps later, I found myself crossing a threshold. A mélange of delectable aromas instantly wafted up my nose.

“Blake, where are we?” In a quick heartbeat, the blindfold slipped off, and in a stunned blink, I knew. I was home!

“SURPRISE!” shouted out the people nearest and dearest to me, all dressed in Sunday finery. My parents, Blake’s parents, Gloria and Jaime Zander with their twins, Libby, Marcy and her twins, Vera and Steve Nichols and their son Joshua, Mrs. Cho and her family, my therapist, Dr. Williams, and, last but not least, Grandma with Luigi the tailor. Also gathered in the hallway were Father Murphy and some of my parents’ closest friends. The people I’d grown up with. My jaw dropped to the floor. I was simply aghast.

“Blake, is this some kind of surprise party? My birthday’s not till October.”

He smacked a kiss on my cheek “No, baby. It’s a surprise wedding.”

A wedding?
“But—”

My mother, looking positively stunning in a damask silk suit that matched the color of her gray-blue eyes, broke out of the crowd and gave me hug before I could say another word.

“Come on, darling. Let’s get you ready.”

“But, Mom, I have nothing appropriate to wear.”

Beaming, she took my hand. “Excuse us, everyone. But the mother of the bride has to get her little girl ready.” I shot a glance at my handsome, smiling father who winked at me. Then, I let Mom lead me to the stairwell with my head turned, my eyes never losing contact with Blake’s. A cocky, triumphant smile lit his face. Oh, my Blake!
That
man who never stopped surprising me. His love filled the room.

A few breathless moments later, I stepped foot into my bedroom. And yet another shocking surprise.

Chaz! “Darling, just say yes to the dress.”

He was holding up the most beautiful gown I’d ever seen. I gasped, clapping a hand to my wide-open mouth.

“Do you like it, Jenny-Poo?”

“Oh my God, Chaz. It’s gorgeous.” Tears were brimming in my eyes as I beheld his breathtaking creation. It was the dress I’d always dreamed of. A sleeveless, ivory confection with layers of tulle and lace, tiny scattered pearls, and a sweetheart neckline. I knew in my heart every stitch was made with love. Oh my sweet Chaz!

I broke away from my mom and ran up to hug him. Tears were now free-falling down my face.

“Darling, you’re going to crush the dress. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

To my utter delight, my best friend Libby joined us, and a half hour later, the magnificent dress cinched my narrow waist and grazed the carpeted floor. It fit me to a tee. Beneath the gown, I was wearing delicate lace lingerie and thigh-high silk stockings from Paris. All courtesy of Gloria. And a pair of ivory satin heels with sparkly snowflake shoe clips, courtesy of Libby.

“Mom, was this your idea?” I asked as she and Libby fluffed the dress.

“No, my darling. It was all Blake’s.”

My heart melted.

“I just helped him orchestrate it. And I must tell you, dear, his mother was a saint and helped so much. She’s an amazing woman.”

I smiled. I was so happy Helen and Mom were bonding. That was important to me. And since the Hollywood wedding debacle, she’d grown closer to me and relinquished control over Blake’s social life. I had a lot to learn from her.

Chaz broke into my thoughts. “Jenny-Poo, we’re not done yet. My eyes followed him as he pranced over to my closet and opened it. Hanging from the hook was an exquisite long lace veil. I recognized it immediately. It was the one Blake’s grandma had worn in that photo I’d once admired.

“Grandma insisted you wear it,” my mother said brightly as Chaz adjusted it over my head. It trailed along the carpet.

“Oh, Jen, you look like a princess,” gushed Libby, who once again was going to be my maid of honor. “Take a look at yourself.”

Grabbing my hand, she led me to a full-length standing mirror in the corner of my small room.

I let out a little gasp as I stared at my reflection. My mother stood behind me and I could see her eyes watering in the glass.

“Oh, my little girl.”

I spun around and gave her another hug. “Oh, Mom. I love you so much.”

And then, I hugged Libby and Chaz again.

“No tears!” chastised Chaz. “They’ll ruin your complexion.”

“One last thing, darling,” said my mother, dipping her hand into the pocket of her suit jacket.

“What’s that?” I asked, eyeing a scrap of blue lace that looked very old.

“Something borrowed. Something blue. It’s the garter I wore when I married your father. It belonged to your late grandmother.”

My Irish grandmother, Maeve. A woman I’d heard much about but had sadly never met. I was close to losing it as I lifted my gown. My mother held it up as I slid the treasured heirloom up my silk-clad leg. Her eyes wandered to my wrists.

“Honey, I meant to ask you, what are those unusual bracelets you’re wearing?”

I glanced at the shiny cuffs as I continued to inch the garter up my leg.

On one, the words “My tiger” were engraved; on the other, “You. Are. Mine.”

I replied to my mom. “Oh, just some jewelry Blake wanted me wear for our nuptials.”

My Blake! At this moment, there was no happier or luckier girl in the world than me.

Blake

I
’ll never forget the expression on my tiger’s face as she stepped into her backyard on the arm of her proud, beaming father. She stopped dead in her tracks and her jaw dropped to the snow-covered ground.

That’s right…snow in July. With the help of my mother and her new party planner, Jeffrey, I had magically transformed the McCoys’ backyard into a winter wonderland. A snow machine was making snow and a fine layer dusted the lawn. While Jen was getting ready, I’d helped my nephews and Vera’s son, Josh, finish building the snowman. He looked just like the snowman Jen and I had built that first Christmas together. We were getting married under a
chuppah
covered with snow white flowers on the very spot where we’d created our snow angel. Mr. Snowman, wearing a black bowtie and tall hat, was sharing the best man spotlight with my bud, Jaime, who stood next to Libby, Jen’s maid of honor. Seats had been arranged for our guests, who I’d flown in on the Conquest Broadcasting jet, and there was also a white baby grand piano. Sitting at it was Roberta Flack herself—yes, I’d flown her in—playing and singing our song.

As the songstress tenderly sang “The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face,” my cock flexed and my heart melted as I beheld my beautiful bride, her eyes glistening with joyous tears. The earth moved beneath my feet as she slowly approached me, her gaze never leaving mine. I was giving her the wedding she always wanted. The wedding she deserved. The wedding we would remember forever.

Mr. Peace, Love, and Happiness was officiating. Yup, Reverend Dooby. Under a slightly overcast sky, I took my tiger in my arms, and we exchanged our vows. To put each other’s needs before the others and to never stop loving each other in good times or bad times. She recited a sonnet while I recited a poem I’d composed. With snowflakes dancing all around us, I lifted her veil and tugged her head back by her ponytail. I held that pretty face in my gaze for a long hot beat and then kissed her the way I had the first time. That very first time I’d seen her face and my life had changed forever. As my mouth consumed hers in a passionate, all-consuming kiss, the sun broke through the clouds. Our snow angel was watching.

Jennifer

T
hat
man.

As I stood on the balcony of the private villa Blake had rented and watched the sun set into the cerulean Tahitian sea, I couldn’t stop reliving my wedding. They say the third time’s a charm, but I would marry
that
man again and again. The beautiful memories whirled around in my head as the soft sound of the surf resounded in my ears.