The Wedding (The Casanova Club Book 14) Page 2

  She ran her hands over my chest and then down the front of my vest.

  “Go,” I said, giving her the warmest smile I could muster.

  Piper stepped away. Her hands fell to her sides and she turned. I watched her go down the stone path and pause between the curtains. She looked back at me. There were tears in her eyes. One spilled over and I wanted to go to her to wipe it away and to promise that it was going to be all right. I wanted to take her hand, lead her away from this place, put her on a plane, and fly her back to my ranch where memories of this year could never find her.

  But I knew the kind of destruction regret could cause.

  She needed to say goodbye. She needed to face the men she was losing by choosing me. And I had to stand strong and endure it, even if there was a small part of me that was scared she might change her mind.

  Piper vanished behind the curtains.

  I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding before pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger and squeezing my eyes closed. It had been a long day. I had a pounding headache. My fingers ached from clenching my fists in anticipation for the last six hours. My stomach ached with hunger from being too nervous to eat anything since the day before yesterday. And naturally, all of that made me a little lightheaded.

  I didn’t have to stand by myself for very long. Jackson Lee arrived, looking dapper as usual in a dark gray suit with a royal-blue tie and patterned pocket square. He held out his hand when he reached me and I shook it. “Congratulations, Wyatt. She loves you.”

  My cheeks stretched in a grin and I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. Wild, right?”

  Jackson chuckled. “Come. Walk with me. We have matters to discuss.”

  I followed Jackson down the path, through the curtains, and down the winding maze of hallways until we entered a room inspired by Turkish decor. There were brightly patterned rugs all over the floor and lanterns made out of broken pieces of glass. It smelled like coffee and whiskey all at once.

  My stomach growled.

  “Hungry?” Jackson asked as he lowered himself into a plush green sofa.

  I took up the matching one across from him. “Starving.”

  Jackson called to an attendant waiting at the door and asked for them to bring in some food and water.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “I couldn’t eat when I was in your shoes, either. The nerves were excruciating. But you can relax now. It’s all good things ahead.”

  “It feels too good to be true.”

  “The anticipation is intense. When it all comes to an end, it’s like waking up from a dream. All of a sudden, there’s no more fear. No more worry. It’s just over. I have never felt relief sweeter than what you’re feeling right now.”

  Neither had I. Despite the aches and pains of my weary body, I was on cloud nine. Piper was going to be my wife. It was a dream I’d dreamed of many nights when she was gone. I dreamed of us on my porch in the summertime, of us making coffee over the stove before we set out at first light for the stables.

  Of us tangled up in my sheets, skin sticky with sweat, hearts racing to a matching tempo as we descended into bliss together.

  “Wyatt?”

  “Sorry?” I blinked up at Jackson.

  He was smiling at me over the rim of his glass of water. Food had been dropped off and I’d been too caught up daydreaming to notice. I leaned toward the table between us and plucked a sandwich from a tray. I demolished it in four bites while Jackson studied me.

  “How long since you ate?” he asked.

  “Forty-eight hours, give or take?”

  “Jesus.”

  I shrugged and took another sandwich.

  Once I wasn’t so ravenous, I was content to drink my water. The dizziness and the ache in my gut had passed.

  Jackson crossed one leg over the other. “Let’s talk about what the rest of your month is going to look like.”

  “All right.”

  “Naturally, the club will help with the wedding arrangements,” Jackson began. “It is part of the package. Our wedding coordinator and team will be on site, wherever you choose that site to be, one week before the wedding to make sure everything runs smoothly. This is a precious time for you and Piper. You don’t need to be running around like crazy people trying to plan a wedding in a matter of weeks.”

  Weeks. I’d be married in weeks. I sat there grinning like an idiot at Jackson, who grinned right back at me.

  Chuckling, he continued. “Before the wedding, there are things that will require your attention. For instance, I suspect you’ll want to spend some time with Piper’s family, and they will want to spend some time with you. Dinner arrangements will be made for you. You and Piper will also need to discuss where the wedding will happen and where you will be living.”

  “We’ll be on the ranch,” I said.

  Jackson arched an eyebrow. “You know this for certain? You two have already spoken about it?”

  “No, but I’m certain. It’s where we both want to be.”

  “Very well. If that changes, you know how to reach me. The other things are all minor and you will see to them in due time. For now, I am pleased to tell you that you have three full uninterrupted days to spend as you wish with your fiancée. The honeymoon suite at the club is yours. You have an all-access pass to any amenity you like. Spa, pools, salon, exercise—”

  “I doubt we’ll be needing them,” I said.

  Jackson caught my drift. “I will make sure you have room service menus on hand.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jackson was in the middle of telling me about how the rest of the afternoon would go now that Piper and I were engaged, and how they would make arrangements for her to find her wedding dress, when she walked into the room and sought me out.

  I could see she’d been crying. Her nose was pink, and her eyes were glassy, and her mascara was even more smudged than it had been since she’d left me in the garden.

  Jackson gestured at the open spot on the sofa beside me. “Piper, please, come join us. We have much to discuss. Some champagne to celebrate, perhaps?”

  I got to my feet. “Actually, no.”

  Jackson blinked.

  Piper waited as I went to join her. I put a hand around her and pulled her into my side. “Sorry to dine and dash, Jackson, but I have some business of my own to attend to. And you’re not invited.”

  Jackson laughed and held up both hands. “All right. All right. You two go. We’ll talk later. And Piper?”

  Piper paused midway to the door and looked back over her shoulder at him.

  Jackson stood. “I’m happy for you.”

  Piper’s smile was as radiant as the sun. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 3

  Piper

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  Wyatt had a firm grip on my hand. His palms were as callused as I remembered. They were warm, too, and I couldn’t help but smile at how well our fingers fit together. Like every inch of our bodies had been made to fit the other.

  He flashed me the same cocky, devilish smile over his shoulder that I’d fallen for back in March. Somehow, that felt like it was yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once. Perhaps it was because I was different from the girl I’d been back then.

  I was not the same Piper James Wyatt had fallen in love with nine months ago. That girl was softer where I’d hardened. She hadn’t said the amount of goodbyes I had. She hadn’t cried the tears I had.

  “Someplace where nobody can bother us and I can get a good look at you,” Wyatt said. His voice pulled me out of my own spiraling thoughts.

  “Have you forgotten what I look like naked?” I teased.

  “Never. I’ve been dreaming about that body of yours for nine months.”

  My cheeks burned and I giggled as he steered me to the right, down another hall, and out into the lobby of the Casanova Club. From there, we cut across the marble floors and made a mad dash for the elevators.

 
I hated the way my heart felt like it was splitting. A part of it was back in that room with the one-way mirror and the other bachelors. When I’d walked in the room, not all of them had looked up at me. Some hadn’t even managed to meet my eyes when I spoke to them.

  Levi. Joshua. Jeremiah.

  The ones I wanted to look in the eye the most and tell them I was sorry. The ones I owed more to than all the others. The ones I still loved in my own way.

  This was more confusing than it should have been. I knew I was where I was supposed to be as Wyatt gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, but that didn’t make it any easier to walk away from where I could have been.

  There was a young woman on the elevator with a clipboard held tightly to her chest. She leaned forward and held the door open for us when she saw us coming.

  I made to step on, but Wyatt tugged me back a step. He offered her a charming smile. “Thanks, we’ll catch the next one.”

  She looked around at the empty elevator. “There’s plenty of room. I don’t bite.”

  Wyatt grabbed my left hand and held it up. “We just got engaged.”

  The young woman blinked at my ring and then looked up at him, bewildered and confused. “Oh. Congratulations?”

  “Thanks.” Wyatt beamed.

  My cheeks had gone three shades of red darker since talking to her. She was an innocent doe-eyed thing who was oblivious to Wyatt’s intentions.

  He wanted to have me all to himself in the elevator.

  She stood back and released the doors. They slid closed and Wyatt punched the button beside the doors to call another one down.

  “That was so embarrassing,” I groaned.

  “Not as embarrassing as it could have been.”

  “Oh?”

  “Would you have preferred we got on with her and we had an audience while I pushed you up against the wall and—”

  “I get it.” I pressed my hip playfully into his. “Thank you for sparing me such humiliation.”

  Wyatt, all six-foot-two of him, moved in close, backing me up toward the closed elevator doors. He was oblivious to the stares our laughter had drawn from other people milling around the lobby. Of course, some stares were from women who likely wished I wasn’t in the picture. I couldn’t fault them for their curiosity in him. He was, without a doubt, the most striking looking man I’d ever laid eyes on. And his more formal attire made him look all the more alluring. His vest fit him snugly, emphasizing his broad shoulders and tapered waist. His belt and boots were striking and bold, just like he was, and the way he moved with an almost fluid grace still gave me the same tingling sensation between my legs that it did when we first met.

  “Why do I get the feeling you’re playing hard to get already?” Wyatt asked, his eyes raking over me in a slow, intense sweep.

  I stared into those warm brown eyes of his. “How can I play hard to get when you’ve already got me, Wyatt Brewer?” I ran my hands up over his vest to rest them on his shoulders. “I’m all yours.”

  Forever.

  Wyatt’s hands fell to my hips. He pulled me into him. “I take care of what’s mine.”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  His brows knit together. I knew that look. Something was troubling him.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Not for me. But for you, I wonder.”

  Puzzled, I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean?”

  “The others—”

  “Are in the past.”

  He nodded. His eyes grew distant, like he wasn’t really seeing me and he was remembering something else. “I remember how it hurt when you left on that last day, Piper. And I don’t wish that feeling upon any man. Not even the men who wanted you as badly as I did. But I’d be a fool if I thought this wasn’t hurting you, too.”

  I blinked.

  He traced a hand up my hip, over my waist, and up so he could cup my cheek.

  “Piper, if you need time, we can take it.”

  I gnawed at the inside of my cheek. “I can’t. Not right now. Right now, all I want is you. Please, Wyatt. Let’s go somewhere and lock the door and not come out.”

  The love of my life pressed his lips to my forehead when I bowed my head. “A locked door, it is.”

  As if on cue, the elevator doors slid open. Wyatt walked me backward onto it and I retreated to the far corner while he hit the button for the top floor. Then he fell back into step beside me, reached down, and took my hand once more. The doors slid closed and sealed us inside, and a well of emotion rose up in me that I couldn’t explain.

  I couldn’t stop it, either.

  I just sort of broke apart.

  When the first sob escaped me, I had to grip the handrails to hold myself up. But it wasn’t necessary. Wyatt was there, his arms sliding around me and pulling me up tightly against him as I started to cry. He held me up and I clung to him, my fingers curling into fists in the front of his white shirt that I promptly stained with my tears and mascara. His hold on me tightened when I thought I was going to crumble, and his fingers sunk into my hair as he rested his chin on top of my head.

  “It’s okay,” he said. His voice rumbled deep in his chest and I wanted nothing more than to crawl into his lap and have him cradle me for hours until the pain in my heart went away. “I’ve got you.”

  When the doors opened again, I’d managed to rein in my uncontrollable sobbing to a few sniffs and whimpers. Wyatt walked me down the hall and I kept my head down as we passed another couple. I could feel their eyes burning into me as we passed. Nobody said a word.

  At the end of the hall, Wyatt fished in his pocket with one hand while supporting me with the other arm. He withdrew a key card, slid it through the lock until the light flashed green, and then twisted the handle. He planted his boot on the lower part of the door and gave it a shove inward so he could walk through with me.

  He closed and locked the door behind us. “There. Locked.” I heard the attempt at humor in his voice but it fell flat as my emotions bled into him.

  I hated that I was doing this to him. I hated that our first moments as an engaged couple were being wasted with tears. I hated that I was thinking of the other men instead of my man.

  The room was awash in sunlight. The city was far below and I was painfully aware of how quiet it was up here. The only sound was the soft echo of our shoes on the white marble floors as we moved deeper into the suite.

  Floor-to-ceiling windows were covered in sheer white drapes. Sliding doors opened up onto a wide patio outside, which was littered with lounge furniture as well as a jacuzzi and a small plunge pool. Steam rose off the surface, curling in tendrils in the air before vanishing a few feet above the water.

  Inside the suite was beautiful. Red roses decorated every surface. They spilled out of vases, and red petals formed a path from the front door to the bedroom, which, when we passed it, I saw had a four-post king-sized bed. It had sheer white drapes hanging from the frame in a billowing fashion. More petals were scattered across the white linens.

  Candles flickered in every corner. It smelled like roses and vanilla and comfort. A champagne bucket sat on a shiny white coffee table in the sitting area, which was framed by plush white sofas draped with cool gray throws and powder pink pillows.

  It was a place of romantic elegance and all I had the energy to do was cry.

  Wyatt sat me down on one of the sofas. He didn’t say anything as I covered my face in my hands and let the tears flow. There were so many apologetic words I wanted to offer him but I knew as soon as I started talking my throat would close up and I’d be back to square one. My only option was to let this grief run its course. I had to feel the pain to move through it.

  Wyatt went down to one knee in front of me. He reached under my dress, took hold of my ankle, and gently lifted my leg to rest my foot on his raised knee. He proceeded to undo the dainty straps of my sparkly gold heel before sliding it off and setting it down on the floor. He did the same with the other foot, and th
en he put his hands on my knees.

  “I understand,” he said. His voice was warm and soft. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  I nodded fiercely as more tears sprang to life in my eyes.

  Wyatt pushed himself to his feet and took the open spot on the sofa beside me. He lifted an arm and I leaned into his side before he let it fall back down to wrap it around me. He rubbed my bare shoulder with his thumb and I nuzzled in closer. He stroked my hair off my face with his other hand and wiped my tears when they rolled down my cheek.

  He drew a deep, steady breath. “Close your eyes.”

  I did as he asked.

  “Take a deep breath.”

  Again, I obeyed.

  “Another,” he said, his finger still tracing lazy patterns on my skin. “Now I want you to picture it with me.”

  I licked my lips. “Picture what?”

  “Sunrise. Painted gold hills all around. You and me sitting on the front porch with coffees in hand and your legs draped over my lap. Boone and Dodge working out at the barn while we bark orders at them. Can you see it?”

  My lips pursed in a smile that challenged the tears that still tried to flow. “Yes.”

  “Me too. And it’s ours, Piper. You’ll get through this. And then we’ll go home.”

  Home.

  Chapter 4

  Levi

  A month with Piper and countless weeks in rehab had put a stopper in the void in my soul.

  But it was back with a vengeance.

  I’d known yesterday morning that I wasn’t going to get the news I wanted when I arrived at the Casanova Club. I knew full well Piper wasn’t going to choose me. I couldn’t exactly pinpoint how I knew, but I knew it like I knew my hair was black.

  The knowing didn’t make it easier when it happened.

  Jackson Lee had stepped into the room where I was assembled with the other bachelors. It was stiff and quiet and still, and as soon as the door opened, our heads all turned on a swivel to face him. He’d offered us a smile that was somewhere between understanding and pity, and then his gaze had slid down the line to the man at the end.