#Heart (Hashtag #6) (21 page)

“It’s the boots.”

“It’s totally the boots.” I agreed.

It wasn’t the boots. But that was my secret.

“So tell me. How bad was she last night?”

I laughed. “Pretty bad. She’s totally been side planning our wedding without anyone knowing.”

“How’d she take it when you told her to forget it all?”

I was silent a second too long, and Ivy gasped. “You did not tell her you’d use it all?”

“No.” I sighed. “I didn’t. But I’m tempted to.”

“What!” she exclaimed and forgot all about my hair. She rushed around and sat on the edge of the tub, facing me, while gripping the brush like she might need it to beat some sense into me. “You cannot let her plan your wedding, Rimmel. It would be everything you aren’t. This is
your
day.”

I’d already had my day. And it had been absolutely perfect. So now when I thought about Romeo’s mother taking over the plans, when I thought about the likely five hundred guests that would be there on “my” day, it didn’t bother me at all. If anything, I was kind of relieved she wanted to take over because then I wouldn’t have to.

I realized now that I didn’t really care what kind of wedding Romeo and I had just so long as we got to say I do.

And we did.

I shrugged. “It’s kind of her day, too. And yours and Romeo’s. It’s a day for all of us. And since I don’t really care what kind of wedding we have, why not let her plan it? We know whatever she does will be beautiful.”

Ivy reached out and touched my forehead. “Are you feeling okay? You feeling nauseous, too.”

I snorted. “I’m fine.”

“I can’t in good conscience allow this. As maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down. You are going to choose what you want for your wedding. I don’t care if I have to stand over you for every decision you need to make.”

I’d barely listened to her speech. “What do you me am I feeling nauseous,
too
.” I looked at her with a sharpened gaze. “Are you sick?”

Ivy made a sound and got up to finish my hair. “I’m fine. Just feel a little yucky this morning.”

“How did your doctor appointment go?”

“It was good,” she said, sounding like she was way too focused on my hair to converse.

But I knew better than that. Ivy could braid my hair in her sleep.

“Ivy,” I said.

She sighed. “I’m fine, Rim. I promise. I didn’t mean to worry you. I ate a grilled cheese last night that Braeden made. Is it any wonder my stomach hurts this morning?”

“Ew.” I wrinkled my nose. “You ate something he cooked?”

She giggled. “It was actually pretty good. But now I kinda regret it.”

She finished up my hair and showed me in the mirror. It looked amazing, as always. “Thank you,” I said and gave her a quick hug.

I could tell she was surprised by my display of affection, but she hugged me back anyway.

When I pulled back, it looked like she might have something to say. But then whatever it was disappeared. “I’ll see you later at the boutique?”

“I’ll be there,” I said, taking in her bright-blue skinny jeans, black boots, and oversized black cowl-neck sweater. Her hair was up on the top of her head in a sleek knot, and her makeup was flawless as usual.

She didn’t look like anything was wrong.

“Awesome!” Her white teeth flashed.

But I knew better than anyone that looks could sometimes be deceiving.

Romeo

Mom invited the entire Knights institution to our engagement party. That alone was a crap ton of people.

All but about ten percent of the entire staff came. The entire team was here.

I saw that as a good day for me in football.

Yeah, I know. I was at some fancy pants party, and this wasn’t a football game. But every day was a day in football, whether it was a game day or not.

The way I saw my teammates’ presence tonight was a show of loyalty. A show of respect for who they all knew was going to be the team leader. No, it hadn’t been announced yet, but it really didn’t need to be. I knew it by the deal my father got for me. I knew it by the huge amount of money they were paying me to play for them for the next four years.

Know how else I knew?

I knew by the way Blanchard looked at me. I hoped the guy never played poker, because if he did, he would suck. He had no ability to look at a person and conceal the way he felt.

And when he looked at me, I saw resentment.

Not hatred, not loathing, or anything equally as alarming.

It was just resentment. Anger with me for taking his top spot away. Anger with himself for losing it. Hell, he was probably even mad at the calendar because I was younger than him.

Football was a game of high stakes and big money. It was a tough pill to swallow when the game you excelled at suddenly turned on you.

I had no doubt if I had been any other position or a quarterback on any other team, Blanchard and I would get along. Hell, maybe we’d even go out for beers. This wasn’t necessarily personal, but the sting of the cut sure made it feel like it was.

When we first locked eyes across the room, I made a choice. I could acknowledge the way I knew he felt and fuel that fire, or I could pretend I didn’t notice.

I didn’t do either.

Starting a fight wasn’t my thing. But backing down sure as hell wasn’t either.

Instead, I opted for respect.

I met his eyes, keeping my gaze as strong and steady as his. After a few beats passed, I lifted my beer to him, a sign of esteem and also an acknowledgement that I understood the undercurrents between us.

I didn’t want a fight with the number two quarterback on the team.

I was tired of fighting.

We didn’t have to be friends, but I didn’t want to have to watch my back every time I walked through a door.

Blanchard wasn’t quite as diplomatic as me. He didn’t raise his glass or even smile. He lowered his chin and then turned away.

Well then, so much for not watching my back.

I made it a point to make eye contact with the guys who stood around him. His friends who had been loyal to him far longer than they’d ever known me. I hoped they wouldn’t be a problem. I hoped they were smart and recognized a shift in power when they saw it.

I wasn’t an asshole. But I knew how to be. And if anyone wanted to challenge me on the Knights, I’d accept the challenge and I’d win.

All but one of the players returned my look and raised their beers.

Respect.

They didn’t have to like me, but the respect was mandatory.

Rimmel slid up to my side, and the familiar feel of her hand in mine made me forget about the team.

“Have I told you how absolutely beautiful you look tonight?” I asked, glancing down at what everyone assumed to be my soon-to-be wife.

Really beautiful was in understatement for the way she glowed tonight. Rimmel was a beautiful woman without even trying, but holy hell, when she tried… she was breathtaking.

And tonight, I found myself in the position of not being able to breathe an awful lot.

She looked like an angel dressed in a white lace gown. I knew Ivy was the one who picked it, so of course it was going to be a nice dress, but my new sister had outdone herself with the choice. It looked exactly like something Rimmel would wear.

As I said, it was snow white in color, made completely of lace with white silk underneath. It was long-sleeved, but the sleeves were sheer, giving me glimpses of Rimmel’s creamy skin and making me ache to run my hands over her naked body.

Rimmel told me the neckline was called a sweetheart, but all I knew was it afforded me a nice view of her chest and, once again, a mouthwatering view of her smooth skin.

The dress hugged her chest, bringing her narrow form into a slight V shape at the waist, but then the dress flared out, billowing out around her hips and thighs, making her look like she was heaven sent.

Once again, I got a glimpse of skin because the gown wasn’t long. The front ended mid-thigh and then gradually became longer around the back so it draped like a waterfall toward the floor. The entire uneven hemline looked as though it had been dipped in gold. But not the kind of gold that looked gaudy or even painted on. It was more of an understated golden hue that colored the lace and wasn’t too shiny, like someone threw a jar of glitter at her.

Rim’s thin legs stretched to the floor into the gold heels perched on her feet. How the hell Ivy got her to wear heels I would never know. Honestly, all I could think about was how they would feel wrapped around my waist.

Yes, okay. I just said she looked like a heaven-sent angel, and she did—the way she floated around the room—and yes, maybe it was wrong to think such spicy thoughts about a woman who appeared so divine.

But hell. I never said
I
was an angel.

“Once or twice.” She smiled and reached up to adjust my tie. “You look like a golden statue come to life.” The long length of her hair was down tonight, curled into long, loose waves and pinned up on the sides away from her face so it could cascade down her back.

“It’s the tie,” I said and leaned down to kiss her softly. People around us clapped, and I felt like a circus animal. “Think if I do a trick, people will throw snacks at us?” I whispered in her ear.

“Certainly would be entertaining,” she mused.

A few photographers appeared in front of us, and I set my beer on a tray that was passing by. I didn’t care to give the impression I was a drinker, especially not before the beginning of my first season as a starter.

Rimmel was holding a champagne flute in her hand, and the golden bubbly only accentuated the entire goddess look she was going for. So when she tried to put it down I shook my head slightly. “You’re perfect the way you are.”

She made a face at me and handed the glass off Ivy, who had approached me from behind. “Until all the papers decide your new wife is a drunkard and start making up headlines about rehab.”

I would have laughed at the ridiculousness, but she was probably right.

We turned toward the cameras and smiled, posing for picture after picture until they all drifted away.

“My face hurts,” she muttered, and Ivy stuck the champagne under her nose.

Braeden materialized right beside Ivy and handed me a fresh beer.

“I have to say,” Ivy said, “Valerie did an amazing job. This place is freaking amazing.”

“Moms has style.” Braeden agreed.

“Be sure you tell her that,” I told him. “She’ll live on that for months.”

“It’s a done deal.”

Rimmel sipped at her champagne and glanced around the huge ballroom, taking in the décor. It wasn’t the first time she’d done that tonight, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last.

“It really is beautiful.” Rim agreed. “See what I mean about the wedding?” Her comment was directed at Ivy.

“Oh, I can see it.” She agreed and crossed her arms. “But I’m still not convinced.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Wedding stuff,” Rim said.

I grunted and drank some beer.

“Where’s your champagne?” Rimmel asked Ivy, and I noticed she was the only one without a drink in her hand.

Ivy shrugged one shoulder. “I’m not drinking tonight.”

Didn’t seem odd to me at all. There were quite a few times when we went out in the past several months that Ivy didn’t drink. After everything that happened to her, I understood, and with tonight being such a large crowd and filled with so many people she didn’t know, I thought it was a smart choice on her part.

Not that anything would happen to Ivy tonight. Braeden and I would make sure of that.

Rimmel didn’t seem to think along the same lines, though. I felt the air around her shift, and when I glanced in her direction, she was studying Ivy with a calculating glint in her eye.

Odd.

Movement from across the room caught my attention, and I saw Ron Gamble talking with the head coach of the team. Both of them seemed relaxed and jovial with drinks in their hands.

I leaned down to Rimmel’s ear. “I know it’s our engagement and all, but I was wondering if you minded a little football talk?”

She glanced toward the men I’d just been looking at and then to a group of my teammates standing nearby. “Braeden?” she whispered.

I nodded. “It’s a good time to introduce him around.”

“Is that even allowed in the football league? Is that like fraternization or something?”

“Who the hell knows?” I said, surprised she would even think about that. My girl was wising up to the game of football. “This is a social setting. It’s just uncontrollable who one might bump into at a party,” I said casually.

“By all means, you and Braeden go do whatever it takes to make sure my brother gets to play with my husband.”

I bent down to look directly in her eyes. Even with heels on, she was still just Smalls. “You’re sure?”

Her eyes softened. “We had our night. This night is for us, but it’s for our family, too. Now go take care of B. Give me a signal if you need me to step in and do some charming.”

In that dress, they’d all be putty in her hands.

“I fucking love you,” I growled.

“I fucking love you, too.”

“Let’s go find a broom closet, have a quickie.”

“You have a one-track mind.” She shook her head, but she was smiling.

“You know it turns me on when you say the word fuck.” It totally did. Hearing that dirty word come out of her pure little mouth never ceased to make me horny.

“Later.” She promised and tugged on the gold tie my mother picked to go with the suit. I didn’t like it so much at first. But now I didn’t mind it.

“B!” I said and straightened. “C’mon, we got shit to do.”

He turned to Ivy and made a face, showing her all his pearly whites. “I got anything in my teeth?”

“No, but I sure wish you had some manners,” Ivy quipped.

Braeden dived forward and kissed her. She laughed.

“Love you,” he said.

“Times two,” she whispered, and then I clapped him on the back so he would move his ass.

We had some schmoozing to do.