Hitched (23 page)

Someone touches my arm. "Your part's almost here. You doing okay?"

I nod, sitting in a chair, my formal red gown tight around my chest. Is that why it's hard to breathe? Or is it just nerves? I inhale. And wait.

And then I hear him pick Sebastian from the crowd. "Sir, come up on stage and introduce yourself."

Sebastian's voice makes me melt. "I'm Sebastian Donovan."

"And what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a—"

"Wait, let me guess—you work with kids… you're  a doctor. A pediatric heart surgeon!"

I can hear the shock in Sebastian's voice. "Yes, actually. That's incredible."

"Have we ever met before, Sebastian?"

"No."

"Okay good. Now, I'm going to ask you to help me with my next bit of magic. Is that okay?"

"Sure."

"Great. Now see that frame right there with the picture of the beautiful woman in shadows? Can you tell who she is?"

"No."

"Okay, great. Now I want you to imagine the love of your life. The one who got away. The girl you wish were here right now so you could tell her how much you love her. Are you picturing her in your mind now?"

“Yes.” Sebastian’s voice sounds different, and I wonder what he's thinking.

"Stare at the painting and keep imagining her. Picture every detail of her, from the color of her hair to her eyes, to the way she smiles. Are you picturing it all?"

"Yes. I am."

"Great, now watch the painting closely."

The crowd gasps at something, and I can imagine it's the shadows parting to reveal a painting of me, but I can't see it. I can hear Sebastian though, when he inhales sharply. "How… how is this possible?"

"What's her name? The girl in the picture?"

"Kacie. Kacie Michaels."

My heart feels like a weight has been lifted from it. I've been living under this dreadful fear that he wouldn't picture me. Wouldn't say my name. That he'd pick Celene. And it would crush me. But he chose me. He picked me. I have to resist running out there right now and into his arms, but the magic trick isn't done yet.

"How would you like to see Kacie again? To hold her in your arms?"

His voice sounds sad. "I don't think that's possible, no matter how much magic you have." My heart breaks.

"Let's just see what we can do."

This is the part I'm blindfolded for. This is the part I have no idea how they manage. Because right now as someone moves me around by the hand, right now the crowd, and Sebastian, are seeing the painting literally come to life. The painting is turning into me right in front of their eyes, and somehow, when my blindfold is pulled off, I turn into a swirl of smoke and am standing on stage, facing Sebastian Donovan.

"Kacie?"

I step forward, my hands outstretched. "It's me. I'm here to say… I'm sorry. About everything. I love you. I've always loved you. And I don't want to live another day without you in my life."

The crowd "Awwws," David takes a bow, and we are ushered back stage.

I'm still waiting for Sebastian to reply, to say something, anything.

"Kacie… " He reaches for my hands, and when our skin touches, I feel warm and hopeful. A tear runs down my cheek.

"Oh Sebastian. I screwed up. I let my fear get in the way of the best thing that's ever happened to me. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. Please tell me it's not too late."

He leans in, his hand reaching for my face, and he gently caresses my skin and kisses me deeply. His taste, his touch... it's everything I've been dreaming about. Everything I've wanted and needed for so long. I am home. With him, I am home.

"It's not too late," he says. "But I have one condition."

There's a twinkle in his eye, and a grin on his face.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Ninety days. You have ninety days to prove you really want to be with me. It's your turn, Ms. Michaels. Think you're up for the challenge?"

"I don't think you'll last ninety days," I say, smiling, and I kiss him again.

The kiss turns into something more, and we are scrambling to find an unused dressing room before our desire rips us apart.

We're already tearing at each other's clothes. I need him badly. I've needed him for so long, it's an actual pain in my body.

We find a room, more a costume closet than a changing room, but we aren't picky.

Sebastian closes the door behind us and locks it. I cough as a bit of dust shakes loose. "I think this is where the costumes come to die," I say.

He laughs and pulls me into his arms. "How did you manage all this?"

I look up into his handsome face, a face I thought I'd never see again, at least not like this. "Magic," I say. "Real magic."

He kisses me again, and our clothes magically fall off, joining the carcasses of costumes as our bodies find each other.

The sex is fast, hard, full of unfilled need left too long. His cock rams into me deeply, tearing me in half. We're standing, pushed against a wall, my legs wrapped around his waist as he fucks me.

It's raw, this coupling, as we pull our need out of each other, as we give everything we are to each other. My nipples are hard and so very tender as they brush against his chest with each thrust of our hips. I pull at his hair, and he groans and sinks his teeth into my neck.

We leave our marks on each other, and when we come, it is explosive.

After, we are spent, but we can't stay in the Closet of Lost Costumes forever. As we search for our own clothes, I see a new star on his back, and my breath hitches in my throat.

I trace it with my finger. "When did you get this?"

He turns, his face hard. "The day after we broke up."

"Who is it for?"

"Remember the little girl, Shannon? She died the night you dropped off the papers."

Oh God. Oh God, no. "Celene. That's why she was at your house?"

His face falls. "You saw that? Is that why? Oh my God. I'm such a fool. Yes, that's why she came over—to tell me. Shannon was her patient too. We try to keep it professional, to not care too much. You have to do that, to do your job well. But some of them just reach inside—they get to you. Shannon was like that, for both Celene and me. It was too much like losing Hope all over again. I don't love Celene, but I could offer her the small comfort of friendship that night. Nothing happened, Kacie. I hope you know that."

Tears run down my face. "I know that. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have run. Shouldn't have hid behind my own fears. I've missed you every moment since that night."

He kisses me. "You'll never have to miss me again." Then he grins. "Assuming your ninety day challenge is a success."

***

He makes it sixty days. Sixty days during which we spend nearly every moment together when we aren't working. Sixty days of learning more and more about each other, spending time with his family, going to events and art exhibits, playing chess, reading books, swimming, hiking, having barbecues with Tate and Vi and whomever they are dating that week. Sixty days of falling more and more in love with each other.

And then I get the package.

It's the red shoe I left at his house the night I arrived with our annulment papers. In it is a note with instructions of where and when to meet him. I remember the place. All of my memories have returned, and I'm grateful for that.

Everything is ready when I arrive. There's champagne and strawberries and a little table set up with all of my favorite foods.

It feels like an eternity as I sit there in the quiet chapel alone, candles flickering around me.

When he walks through the door, I release the breath I don't realize I'm holding.

He looks as handsome as I remember, and all my love, my lust, my desire, my need, it all topples over me in waves, and I want to throw myself in his arms, but I wait, nerves sending butterflies through my stomach.

"I got your package," I say, holding up a foot to show him the red shoe he rescued.

"I'm glad. I know I said we had to wait ninety days, but Kacie, I'm done waiting for what I want most in the world."

My breath hitches. "And what's that?"

He kneels before me so that we're face to face. "You."

I'm trembling from the briefest touch of his fingers against my cheek. "I want you, Ms. Kacie Michaels. Always and forever, I want you."

A tear trickles down my cheek and over the spot his finger just brushed against. "I want you too. Always and forever."

When we kiss, it's magic. It's everything in my life, everything in the universe, falling into perfect place. It's our fates intertwining fully and completely, without fear, without hesitation, without distraction.

And when he pulls away, I'm about to protest, but he takes a small box out of his pocket and holds it out to me.

"I've been carrying this around with me since the night you left the papers at my house. I couldn't give up hope that someday you'd come back to me, but I needed to be sure that this is what you want too. These last few months have shown me that we're ready for the next step. Kacie Michaels, will you marry me? Again?"

He opens the box, and a beautiful white gold ring sparkles at me. The main diamond is large, at least two karats, circled by smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds running down the band. It's magnificent.

Now my tears are flowing as I nod. "Yes, yes I will! Nothing would make me happier."

When he pulls the ring out of the box, I notice something engraved on the inside, and I laugh when I read what it says. "Hitched 06/02, Married 4Ever __/__".

"The first date is the day we got married, right here. The second date is yet to be decided, but it will be the date you become mine forever."

I'm dressed in silk and lace, in a gown so elegant I'm scared to breathe, let alone move. Clara runs around, making sure everything and everyone is in place. Vi stands with me—I'm too scared to sit—and mumbles the occasional reassurance every few moments like a pre-recorded program.

When the text comes, I'm almost too nervous to pick up my phone. What if I chip my French manicure? Vi rolls her eyes and picks up the phone for me. "God, Kacie, you're not made of porcelain. Relax!"

"I just don't want to do anything to fuck up this day."

"Stressing to the point of immobilization is the only thing threatening to fuck up this day." She scrolls through my texts. "Lover boy says he can't wait to see you. He's fantasizing about you. He… Oh my, he sent a cock shot. He
is
as huge as you said."

I grab the phone from her and check it myself, and she just laughs.

"Figured that would get you moving again," she says.

No cock shot. Which is good, since I definitely don't want Vi checking out my soon-to-be husband. And a little disappointing, because… well… sexy cock shot from soon-to-be husband would have been yummy.

Guess I'll have to make do with memories. And future plans.

My parents are here, and my sister, who is also a bridesmaid, is helping Clara with something. I think mostly Clara is helping keep Jessica out of my way, which I appreciate. I can't handle too many people right now.

The Donovans went all out in decorating their home for my special day, and I'm in awe of how it's turned out. We debated between an indoor or outdoor wedding, and opted for indoors so I could come down their winding wrought iron staircase, now tastefully decorated with reds and silvers, the colors of our wedding in honor of the holiday season.

We won't get snow, sadly, but I'll settle for Christmas decorations.

Clara and my sister come back in and close the door behind them. "It's almost time," Clara says. "Are you ready?"

I nod, the pearls around my head tapping my forehead as I do.

Tate barges in and grins broadly. "Sis, you look stunning. Just had to see you before you make your big entrance."

He kisses my cheek, whistles to the bridesmaids and then exits as fast as he entered.

I look at my maid of honor and bridesmaids, each lovely in their red gowns carrying white roses. I've got red roses with white baby's breath. The contrast is stunning.

And against everyone's advice, particularly my mother's, I'm of course wearing the red shoes that have been with us every step of the way.

I peek down at them and then let my dress fall to the floor as Vi straightens me out and gives the okay to follow them down the staircase.

The live music begins, and the groomsmen meet each of the women at the top of the stairs and walk them down. I wait until the cue, and then meet my dad at the top, where no one can yet see me. He looks at me, and his eyes gloss over. "My little girl. You're all grown up. You look beautiful sweetheart."