Everett Holden had sworn to live the rest of his life a single man, but his plans are disrupted when he finds himself sharing an apartment with his best friend's ex - the one woman he detests with every fiber of his being yet simultaneously desires...
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My plans to find Emery today were fruitless. I was ushered into getting ready for pictures from the moment I woke up—so many pictures. We posed on the beach for hours with Mason, the famous photographer my sister hired taking her sweet damn time. But this is my sister's wedding, so I tried to put the fight Emery and I had on the back burner so I could be present. I smiled and interacted, despite how uncomfortable it felt, but my eyes kept straying to the docks a mile down the beach, wondering if she was on them.
I finally found her seated in the third row during the ceremony, and the expression in her eyes when she first spotted me was something I hadn't seen before. It was so intense that it completely took my breath away. The suit I wore felt too tight. I was sweating from the beaming sun, sand already in my dress shoes, and the only thing I wanted to do was go back to my hut, sink to my knees in front of Emery, and ensure whatever features lined her face to create that expression never disappeared.
But I have to focus. Just a few more minutes, and I can talk to her.
Tearing my gaze from hers when the violinist starts to play, hating that there is so much left unsaid between us, I'm momentarily distracted when my sister comes into view with my father.
Izzy has always been stunning, but she looks breathtakingly beautiful in a wedding dress she created. With a sweetheart neckline, the mermaid-fitting bodice clings to her body before delicately flaring out above her ankles, tiny diamond-encrusted sparkles shining from the sun's glare. Half of her blonde curls are pinned behind her head to frame her face, and her veil is almost as long as the aisle behind her.
Connor leans into my ear to whisper, "You owe me a hundred bucks."
I fight the urge to roll my eyes as pictures continue to be taken, realizing Mason is, in fact, a blubbering mess. There wasn't a doubt in my mind that he'd cry, but I at least thought Izzy would make it down the aisle before he started. Connor was right that all it'd take was one look.
"Now is really not the time to bring up a bet," I whisper-hiss.
"Why?" He continues lowly. "Afraid I'll take this opportunity to make a bet on when you will cry at your wedding?"
It's an effort not to laugh, and it has nothing to do with the fact that he's probably right. I think I will cry when I marry Emery. Not if, but when. However, when we decide to marry, it won't be in front of my family. They won't be there to witness it. An extravagant wedding as big as this is beautiful, but I want the moment I commit myself to Emery for the rest of my life to be just between us. Sure, we can throw a party afterward where my family can be present, but I've never been comfortable with big gatherings like this. I want our ceremony to be intimate. Sacred. A place where my brother isn't whispering about a bet on whether or not I'll cry.
"Hey, dipshits," Uncle Ethan mutters in warning. "Focus on the ceremony and quit talking."
Connor does a fake little gasp, hardly audible for anyone around us to hear. "In a place of worship? That's disrespectful."
