Faster (Stark Ink, #3) (22 page)

Emilio raised an eyebrow at her. “You don’t say? Well, that sounds like fun.”

She cleared her throat and tried not to make eye contact with the other wedding guests who were skirting past them on the sidewalk. A few of them giggled. Ava ignored them. “The wedding is today, actually,” she said into her phone. “Do you want to come?”

He sighed dramatically and Ava rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t know,” he said teasingly. “Such short notice. I may not have a
thing
to wear.”

Emilio stood in front of her, six feet tall in his leather dress shoes. His dark, tousled hair matched his suit, which was fitted with the cuffs and pant-leg hems tailored, no less. He looked like a
GQ
-cover-model.

And me without any baby oil
, she thought to herself.

She wrinkled her nose as she realized what she must look like standing next to him. “I have to wear a bridesmaid’s dress,” she told him. “It’s not horrible, thank God. But it
is
pink. I’m sure I look ridiculous.”

In front of her, Emilio’s jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed at her. She saw his fingers flex, tightening up on his phone. She had a flash of them inside her, bringing her to her own personal finish line.

Damn, it was hot outside today.

“That’s not the word I’d use,” he said quietly.

“Well, what—”

He dropped the phone (and the pretense) and crossed the short distance between them. Before Ava could even hang up her own phone, Emilio snaked an arm around her waist and swept her into a kiss. On her heels she was almost, but not quite, his height.

Beside them, someone cleared their throat loudly.

Ava blushed to find Shooter Sullivan and his wife walking past them. Shooter gave Emilio an admonishing look.

Emilio grinned but dutifully stepped away. His hand stayed at the small of Ava’s back, though, as they turned toward the church.

Shooter’s wife glanced back over her shoulder and smiled broadly at Ava, making her feel better about having caused a scene.

“I’m crashing,” Emilio admitted as they climbed the steps. “My name wasn’t on the actual invitation.”

“I’m glad you came anyway,” she said. And it was true.

On her way up the steps, her heel dragged on a chip in the concrete. She stumbled toward Emilio and ended up leaning against him for support. “Sorry,” she mumbled, slightly embarrassed. “It’s the shoes.”

“Sure it is,” he replied cockily.

She gaped at him. “It is!” she insisted.
“They’re heels.
”

He just smiled at her. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll tell everyone that’s what it is.”

Ava smacked his arm.

He dodged and laughed. “Just saying. I look dead-sexy in this suit. I have a mirror at home. Oh wait,” he whispered with a grin, “you already know that. You’ve seen it yourself.”

She blushed furiously as they stepped into the air-conditioned lobby. Off to the right were the bathrooms and the changing room door. Reluctantly, she broke away from Emilio and stepped out of the flow of guests entering the sanctuary.

“I have to walk down the aisle,” she told him.

“With who?” he asked. “Calla’s hot cousin from out-of-town? Six foot tall cowboy with dimples and blue eyes?”

Ava rolled her eyes but smiled. “With Jonah.”

Emilio’s eyes twinkled good-naturedly in response. “Good. I don’t want to get blood on my tie,” he said as he straightened it.

Jonah appeared, also straightening his tie. He gave a grunt and a sharp nod to Emilio, who did the same.

She smirked at the two of them. “Guess that’s what passes for a greeting between Great Apes.”

Emilio chuckled, but Jonah remained silent. As usual.

“There’ll be cake in the basement. After the ceremony,” Ava told Emilio. “Are you staying?”

His eyes twinkled again. “When a beautiful woman offers me cake, I don’t turn it down. Right, Jonah?”

Jonah said nothing.

Emilio shrugged. “Okay, maybe
you
do.”

“I’ll find you after the service,” Ava called out as Emilio headed toward the double doors.

He turned back slightly and caught her gaze. “No, muñeca,
I’ll
find
you.
”

As the doors closed behind him, Jonah said, “I don’t know if I like him.”

Ava snorted. “Is there someone you
do
like?” She didn’t wait for an answer as she headed for the changing-room door. She knocked first, and opened it just a crack, in case any future Starks were... well...
stark
.

Calla and Zoey were ready, both decked out in simple yet beautiful gowns that draped to their ankles. Their dresses didn’t match but they were similar enough not to clash. Both women had their dark hair pinned up. Strangers would mistake them for sisters. An hour from now, Ava realized, they would be.

She smiled. She liked that her family was growing, not shrinking.

It seemed that Calla and Zoey already had the sister thing down pat. Instead of primping each other or sharing lipstick, they were on the other side of the room, near the window. They were whispering fiercely at each other, backs to the door.

When Ava stepped in, they immediately quieted and turned toward her. Calla’s face was red, as though she was upset. Either that or she’d put on too much blush. Judging by her strange look, Ava guessed it was the former.

“Is everything okay?” Ava asked. She couldn’t imagine what was wrong. Everyone was here. The boys were already in place. The cake had made it here in one piece.

“Fine!” Zoey called out loudly. She smiled brightly. The white of her teeth competed with her wedding dress. “Everything’s fine!”

Ava didn’t know what to say. It was pretty clear that wasn’t exactly the case, but she was the odd man out in this room— in
every
room— it seemed. “Um,” she said, “so... we’re ready?” It came out as a question, but it wasn’t supposed to be. “I mean, we’re all ready,” Ava corrected. “Just... waiting on you.”

“We’re coming!” Zoey insisted, taking Calla’s hand. “Be right there!”

Ava closed the door as she stepped back, extricating herself from the awkward scene in front of her. She shut the door firmly then turned back to the lobby.

“What’s the hold up?” Jonah asked, looking behind her at the changing-room door.

“I don’t know. But they’re coming now.” As she said it, her heel caught on the corner of the rug. She stumbled a bit but Jonah reached out and caught her by the arm. He righted her easily and, instead of letting go once she was stable, he linked their elbows and herded her in beside him.

Ava blinked at their arms, then at her slightly older brother. In her entire life she could count on one hand the number of times she’d touched Jonah. Oh wait, no she couldn’t.

The number was zero.

Yet, here he was, touching her,
holding her.
He actually
smiled
at her. “You face-plant walking down that aisle and it’ll be on video. For life. Dalton’ll probably put it up on YouTube.”

Ava was tempted to ask if he was an alien, sent to replace the real Jonah. Instead she simply said, “Are you okay?”

He gazed at her intently, sending the usual shivers down Ava’s spine. Some of the old Jonah was definitely still there, lurking behind his eyes, hiding just beneath the surface. A crocodile ready to take down anyone who got too close to the edge of the water. “
Are you?
” he asked.

Ava didn’t have an answer but she thought they were both excellent questions.

T
rue to his word, he did find her first. In the basement of the church, with old-people music pumping loudly over rented speakers, she felt two strong arms encircle her waist.

Emilio laid a chaste kiss— for him, anyway— on the side of her head. “You know what they say about guys who are great in bed, right?” he whispered into her ear.

Ava’s heart thudded as loudly as the bass.

“We dance well, too.”

He pulled her to the polished wooden floor and spun her around. She nearly stumbled, but he snatched her up and drew her close. Dancing in heels was a risky proposition, but he seemed willing to take the chance. Even with her spiked heels just inches from his vulnerable toes, he whirled and twirled her so much she was nearly dizzy.

They weren’t the only ones. Even Dalton had somehow learned to dance without the aid of alcohol. The most Ava had ever seen him do was some kind of drunken booty shake that resembled a person being electrocuted. Apparently, it was all Zoey had ever seen as well, because her jaw was on the floor as she stared at him.

Dalton took her hand and twirled her as well, albeit slower and with more concentration. As they passed by Ava and Emilio, Ava could swear Dalton was counting under his breath, but Zoey didn’t seem to care at all. She was thrilled and grinning from ear to ear.

Ava made it through one more song, then staggered over to the table where Sienna was sitting. She collapsed onto a chair with a breathless sigh. The dress was fine; she could handle that. The heels were a different story. She missed the comfort of her boots.

Across from her, Sienna swirled a glass filled with punch, looking glum. It was a shame that Sienna could handle the shoes better than Ava but had no one to dance with.

On the table, Ava’s phone vibrated. She seized it and swiped her thumb over the power button, blackening the screen. Everyone she knew— and cared about— was right here in this room. Which made it obvious who was blowing up her phone. If Clint had called earlier, Sienna hadn’t noticed, or she would have said something.

To deflect any interest, Ava said, “Why don’t you dance?”

Sienna shrugged and picked up her drink, taking another sip.

Ava frowned. “So, you’re just going to sit here, tossing back fruit punch like tequila shots? With two slices of cake?”

Sienna wrinkled her nose. “Who cares? It’s virgin. Like
I’m
going to be for the rest of my life.”

“Whoa,” laughed Emilio, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You think we could come up with a hand signal so you could warn me before shit gets real? Real girly, I mean. Let’s dance,” he told Ava. “Seems safer.”

She shook her head. “My feet are toast for a while.” She nodded at Sienna.

Emilio took the hint and graciously turned to her. “What about you?” he asked her.

She looked up from her cake, her mouth making a perfect O in surprise. “You want to dance with me?”

He grinned. “I’m Latino. I dance with
everybody
.” Without waiting for a yes, he stood up, grabbed Sienna’s hand and tugged her to the dance floor.

Ava sat back in her chair, nursing her complaining feet, and smiled at the two of them. Sienna seemed to be enjoying herself in spite of everything.

A few feet away, Dalton and Zoey were cuddled up against each other, even though it wasn’t a slow song. He was talking in her ear and she occasionally sighed happily.

Ava figured that was what love was, being able to be alone even in a room full of people.

––––––––

A
fter the cake was gone and the gifts had been loaded into Adam’s car, the crowd gathered at the front of the church to harass the newlyweds as they emerged, married, to face the world together.

Bird seed and good wishes were scattered to the wind.

As the crowd parted, Ava realized the stone walkway led to the street—more specifically, to a huge black and chrome beast of a Harley, trimmed with white bows.

She blinked at it.

Calla actually halted to stare at it.

Adam beamed at her and the rest of the crowd. When Ava caught sight of Shooter Sullivan standing across from her, she figured he must have sold the bike to her older brother on the sly.

Calla’s free hand fluttered to her face. The other hand shook, scattering petals from her bouquet along the sidewalk. “Oh, my God!” she breathed.

Adam was obviously pleased with himself. “We can drive it to the cabin,” he told her. “We’ll just dump half the crap you’ve already packed and rough it for a week.” He winked at her. “It’s not like you’re going to need
all
those clothes.”

She closed her mouth and shook her head firmly. “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

He smirked at her. “Baby, no one
needs
an emergency mani-pedi kit to go fishing and hiking. Your toes don’t need to be color coordinated with the scenery.”

“No,” she snapped at him. “I mean, I’m not getting on the
bike
!”

Adam frowned at her, then glanced at her outfit. Calla was wearing ankle-length pants, flat shoes, and a silk, sleeveless blouse. Not exactly Harley attire, but it was only two blocks to the house. Adam repeated the sentiment out loud to Calla.

Calla again shook her head, though, and took a step back from the curb.

“Unbelievable,” Adam cried, throwing up his hands. “I finally—
finally
— scrape together enough cash for another bike and my woman won’t get on it.”

“I can’t,” Calla repeated, chewing her lower lip and glancing around nervously.

“Babe, I’m not going to crash. I swear. It’s totally safe.” He held a hand out but Calla shook her head. Adam narrowed his eyes at her. “Babe,” he said a little more sharply, “you’re embarrassing me.”

Calla’s chin jerked up. “Well...
you’re
embarrassing
me
!” she shot back.

Adam gaped at her. “How?! How in the hell am I embarrassing
you
?”

Calla slammed her bouquet into the chest of the person next to her. It turned out to be a stunned Sienna. She took a step forward, off the sidewalk, and onto the pavement. “We just got
married!
” she hissed. She was trying to be quiet, but she might have been too pissed off to actually accomplish it.

“Yeah?” Adam said slowly, brow furrowing.

“
Like ten minutes ago!
” she said, stomping her ballet-flat onto the asphalt.

Adam snorted. “Baby, I’m aware that once you put a ring on it, women tend to go a little wonky. But... I think you may have skipped straight to certifiable. Aren’t we supposed to have a honeymoon before the whole thing goes pear-shaped?”