I Run to You (50 page)

“Yes.”

“Brook—I miss you.”

“You too.”

“Drive safe.”

She did, driving home in a muse.

Once there, putting things away and checking
on pup, that at last agreed to sleep in the laundry room—but still
wanted out most of the day and didn’t need a leash. He mostly
romped in the woods and then came home.

She did the rest her calls to the family, and
then checked with Jordan, to see if there was anything she needed
to pick up or bring for the wedding.

“No. I think Max has it covered.” Jordan
grunted “Cases of beer and champagne—to go with BBQ ribs and
cornbread.”

“That’s a Coburn.”

“He wanted to do it all extravagant I feel
bad that I want it simple. Sooo—I have arranged a secret
celebration for this summer. Hoping, everyone, and all the friends
show up at the estate. We will do big modern version of a masque
ball. Totally turn it on its head though. I’m shooting for the day
we met, an anniversary thing.”

“Sounds awesome. I’ll come in Regency
Goth.”

“I hope. Anyway, just come to the wedding,
and have fun. Madeline’s been great. She and Mitch. I’m going to
love her as a mother in law. We went shopping the other day and had
such a blast—laughed till we cried— and bought all this stuff to
put in gift bags—brown paper with twine.”

“Mom’s good at that, she knows the Coburns,
and Max’s friends will soon enough.”

“How are you and Coy?’

“Progressing.” Brook told her about the
ring.

Jordan said, “Renee thought he’d give you one
for Christmas.”

“He meant to. But you know—I’m not as open
about the feelings as he is.”

“You love him. It’s apparent to everyone. And
you are good with Levi. But you really should see yourself when you
are around Coy. It’s as if you two fit perfectly. Max laughs about
the sexual tension. But I see the other, and you’re closer than
some of the marrieds' in the family.”

“I’m working on myself.” Brook sighed. “I’m
learning who he is, and who we are now.”

“Smart chick.”

After they hung up, Brook ate and turned in
early. She had a couple of days to work before the wedding.

~*~

The Wedding

Max had the fireplaces lit for the ceremony.
The rustic interior of the house showed Jordan’s touch: subtle
winter flowers and greenery here and there, in artsy vases.

The addition would come in handy when the
guests arrived. He hated that Leigh couldn’t be there. But they’d
had her over Christmas break, and had a blast. He had hired a
friend to take pictures, and promised to send her a packet of
them.

Downstairs, he kept his nerves at bay,
checking to make sure there were enough chairs. The kitchen
overflowed with food, and drinks kept cold outside. Wedding gifts
had been placed to one side in the great room. What was once his
office/ bedroom extended out and met the add on, a bath and 2
bedrooms. One was Leigh’s, one a spare, his office and a music
room. Everything was unassuming and relaxed. He had his darkroom
moved to the back part of the house.

Going to the downstairs restroom, he flicked
lint off his black tailored shirt. It had a sheen to it and was
wildly expensive, like his slacks and shoes. He didn’t mind
Jordan’s insistence on casual, even though he teased her about it.
Nevertheless, this was his wedding. He wanted to look great for his
bride.

Some of the Coburns would show up in suits,
some in jeans, but he was going to be Jordan’s husband. No matter
how many nights he held her, how much he was with her, he fell in
love with her deeper every day.

She was growing too, meeting the challenges
of a changing life, her career, motherhood, and his lover. He
discovered facets of her, like an interesting taste in things that
was unique—layers, it would take years to uncover.

Max loved seeing her meet his friends—who
secretly thought she was the coolest chic on earth. Her tough style
and tattoos would normally evoke prejudging in some of the crowd he
knew, but his real friends were down to earth. They took her to
pubs. She had gone to sports bars. They had ridden horses on the
estate, and gone to a showing one of his photographer friends
had.

He had been more nervous than she. Ready to
chew up anyone who snubbed her. No one had. He had bought her
several designer outfits, and she had worn them, her body
beautiful, and face too.

Even with the body art and piercing, she had
drawn eyes simply for that striking way she looked. Her husky,
sexy, laugh, put chills on him. He loved to hear it, and to make
her laugh. It transformed her. It assured him that he was giving
her joy she’d never had.

He remembered the first time he, and his
friends were sitting around talking, someone told a joke, and she
had laughed like that—deep, like her whiskey tinged singing voice.
The guys had looked at him and gave him that, (she is damn hot,)
look.

A banging on the door drew Max out his muse.
He went to answer it.

It was a group of guests coming at once.

From that point on, every few minutes,
someone arrived. The preacher too, thankfully. an old friend of the
Coburns.

Brook showed up, in a long coat, looking
pretty in her long purple skirt and top, sporting new hairstyle.
Renee and the others arrived, going up stairs to find the bride to
be, and Madeline, as they got ready.

Once his dad and the rest were there, Max was
busy introducing his friends, telling everyone where everything
was.

He had asked Coy to sing. Sweated a bi—those
few weeks Coy had the flu— wondering if he would feel like it.

Coy showed up, guitar in hand. He wore a
sharp looking black tailored shirt and slacks. Levi though, was in
jeans.

“You look nervous,” Coy, teased him patting
his shoulder after setting the guitar aside.

Max ran a hand through his straight black
hair. “Fraid I’ll wake up and not be this damn happy.”

“Not a chance. “ Coy watched Levi go to sit
with Jett and Remy. He steered Max toward the kitchen. “Let’s have
a beer.”

He opened two. With all the bodies, the house
was a little warm so they stepped outside.

Coy lit a cigarette. “I quit the whole time I
was sick.”

Max laughed. “You smoke whenever Brook’s got
you tied in knots.”

“All the time, then.” Coy grinned.

Jason came out. “Weren’t you sonofbitches
going to invite me out here, too?” He had a beer. “I got stuck in
there with Francine McDonald. Who the fucking hell invited
her?”

Coy sniggered. Max groaned, “No one that I
know of.”

They looked at each other and laughed
again.

Francine was a fiftish woman, who chased
Jason for years. He had nothing against older women, but Francine
was whiskey-drinking, hard living, and a gossip. She had known
Jason all his life. Once, after he got off stage at Sunny’s she’d
grabbed him by the balls so hard, he’d puked.

Coy goaded, “Maybe she’s what you’ve been
looking for all this time.”

“Fuck you.” Jason laughed and took a long
pull.

Afterwards he unbuttoned his top button. He
wore a dark blue jacket and slacks, a lighter shirt, very hip and
stylish.

They ribbed each other for awhile, teasing
Jason more over asking Max not to invite any of his old
girlfriends, and Max saying there were few in the county that
hadn’t been.

The blondes were history.

Jason was back to being single.

The door slid open and Mitch said, “They’re
ready.”

Max shoved the beer at Coy and told Jason,
who was his best man, “Come on, and grab a mint off the table.
Can’t have the preacher smelling beer, and frowning during my
wedding.”

Guests seated, Max stood with his dad, and
Jason, the preacher. Coy sat in a chair, over by the fireplace. He
began to play once Madeline came down the stairs and took a seat.
She was giving Jordan away, looked attractive—at least Mitch, who
winked at her, thought so, admiring her in a russet dress and
heels.

Coy began to sing, Never Gonna be Alone, by
Daugherty, as they women came down the stairs. Brook last, giving
Max a smile and wink.

Max’s legs were weak when he got his first
glimpse of Jordan. She had kept the wedding dress a secret, so he
saw the silver stacked heels first and white lace hose, the long
dress had a cut away ruffle to display her calves. Cameras were
flashing. He felt his heart ramming his ribs. The dress fit smooth
over her curved hips and small waist, and exposed her arms and
dipped to a V.

The soft shimmering pearl color made her warm
skin glow. Her fingerless lace gloves matched the stockings. But
her face…Max swallowed several times, seeing her black hair was
waved and shining, her lips glossed... pearlesque. Those wide green
eyes had a silvery white shadow on them. Every piercing in her ears
and brow, the tiny one under hip lip—a small diamond.

She took his breath away. His leather and
blue jeans woman—looked like millennium version of a winter
queen.

Holding three white roses, she came to stand
before him, her eyes staring into his.

Murmurs of approval went through the
guests...

He would hardly remember the vows later, but
Max did see his hand tremble during the putting on of rings, and
the kiss. A kiss—that he never wanted to stop.

After the preacher announced them Mr. and
Mrs., the boss sound system in his house wafted in music. The
cheers and whistles rose and then died down.

She handed her flowers to Madeline. He led
his bride to the center clear of the chairs, waltzing with her, his
hand on her bare back where the dress dipped to her spine.

“You’re breathtaking,” he whispered unsteady
in her ear.

Her fingers tightened on his, hand sliding to
the back of her shoulder. “I wanted to be. For you. I love you,
Maxwell Lambert Griffin.”

“I love you Mrs. Griffith. I love you in
leather and Levis. On that bitchin’ Harley. And here you managed to
transform yourself into another vision, my winter queen.”

Mid way in the song, they drew back and
smiled.

He turned, to bring Madeline up for a waltz.
She took Mitch’s hand.

“You’re simply magical together,” Madeline
said. She had cried through the whole thing.

“Thank you, Mother. For being a mother, to
her too.”

“I love you both. And our little Leigh.” She
sighed, sniffed, and hugged him. “Your journey as man and wife,
friends, lovers, is just starting. Enjoy every moment. Love each
other through the good and bad times. Be there for each other.”

“I’ve a great example of real love, in you
and Dad.”

Once the waltz ended, Max told everyone,
“Eat, dance, and celebrate! I just married the love of my
life.”

He got his bride, and they toasted champagne,
with the family—apple cider with the kids, and those who didn’t
drink “spirits.”

They opened gifts, embraced, kissed people,
shook hands—and he got to enjoy his wife during the photos, sitting
her on his knee, kissing her, posing by the fire, before she left
him to change.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing you in that dress all
night,” he whispered.

She whispered back, “What I’ve got for you
later is even better. Sheer white lace, corset, and stockings.” He
moaned and shivered. She added, “I’ll put my tongue stud in.”

Max was hard, high, beyond happy.

He made himself eat and visit, hang out. He
saw her later, in a black and green outfit that did things for him
too.

He was going to make love to her all night.
Romance her, sex her, and he would sneak up early, light candles,
spread rose pedals, be her husband and lover in every way.

When she was back in her old jeans and Tank
belly-shirt, he was going to take her the way she liked him too.
Every way she wanted him to.

God— he could not wait to get started.

~*~

Brook had eaten, then coaxed Levi to dance
with her, and was now joking around with the girls. They didn’t get
to give Jordan a shower, so they had snuck gifts up to the bedroom
and left them—oils, toys, and all sorts of pampering things and fun
stuff too. The fuzzy cuffs Renee got her were on the bed covers.
Brook got them matching tongue vibrators. She had finally had an
excuse to be in one of those stores without feeling awkward. No one
said anything as one of the things she picked out was for
herself.

She moved amid family, talking to friends of
Max’s, some she met years ago. She talked with Sunny, and watched
him and Renee dance, touch, and hold hands several times. The
pictures and family filming went on. Brook had her limit of
champagne, going for limewater instead of a next day headache.

When guests were thinning, because it started
to snow, the chairs were folded, making the dance floor bigger.

Brook watched Coy come toward her.

He caught her hand and led her out. Mitch and
Madeline were dancing. As was Renee and Sunny. Ashley looking
lovely in deep ruby dress was dancing with Rafe.

The heels gave her enough height to tuck her
head against Coy’s neck. Her arms around him, his around her. They
waltzed to, What hurts the most, by Rascal Flats. She breathed him,
felt him, and moved with him—feeling that comfort and longing merge
as it always did in his arms.

They were moving, and at one point, she
brushed her lips on his jaw. His went over her brow.

Levi was playing a hand held game behind
them. They were so wrapped in each other, that Brook didn’t see
him, until she heard his giggle and then groan, saying, “They’re
going to kiss, I just know it.”

She laughed, feeling Coy’s in his chest as he
did so. Leaning back, she met his half-amused half-sleepy sexy
eyes. He leaned down and kissed her softer than he wanted, softer
than she wanted.