Incendiary (32 page)

My husband is so very unhappy. Our life took a downward spiral the day Georgie met Sloane.

“Come, Cassandra,” Mother orders as a small gap is allowed in the door so we can walk through. We’re ushered to the front. There aren’t many people on the bride’s side, unlike my wedding, which was one of the year’s society events.

Only a moment after we’re seated, Sloane comes in through a side door, followed by a man who is about thirty-five. I want to stare at Sloane, the way he wears the tux, but not once does he look in my direction.

Abby is almost to Sloane and the minister before I turn. Josh is right behind her, holding the baby. And suddenly, there she is.

Georgie.

I paid scant attention to her when we were in the hallway. Now though, as I stand with the rest of the attendees, as I listen to the cameras and see the bursts of light, my focus is narrowed to her.
My daughter.

Her black hair is in a rather simple style, swept up with a few strands dangling. The lilac gown she wears brings out the color in her eyes. She’s wearing make-up, but not so much that it overpowers her.

She’s simply breathtaking. And she’s young.

Young
. Unlike me.

I love Parnell. The way he rejected me for younger women and preferred other men to fuck me has crushed me. Sloane brought me back to life.

If I don’t figure something out quickly, I not only risk Parnell wasting away before my eyes, but I’ll lose Bryn to Georgie once and for all.

I just can’t let that happen.

I can’t fathom Georgie’s shoeless state. Why the disbelief, I’m not sure. This
is
Georgie, after all. But as the minister asks, “Who gives this woman to be married?” and Parnell responds, “I do,” and places Georgie’s delicate hand in mine, before nodding to me, nothing matters.

Not the fact that she’s wearing no shoes. Not the knowledge that we still haven’t found the culprit of the break-in. Or even my relief at knowing I’m leaving my father’s house
tonight
. My only concern is Georgie and the happiness radiating from her.

I didn’t have a lot of time to arrange the wedding and the reception and I hope I’ve made it special for Georgie. Judging by her look of adoration, I have.

I have been
the
man in the eyes of millions. Now, I only want to be
a
man for one. Georgie.

Clearing my name is even more imperative now. I have to find a way to either get my dad to confess to me or get Helen to release the evidence she has. Tour rehearsals and settling into married life, balancing fame and domesticity, helping Georgie adjust to being a wife and a mother, keeping her safe from whoever, will occupy me for the next few weeks. I’ll bide my time, but it has to be done. Marrying Georgie has added urgency to my quest, but this isn’t about us. This is about
me
. We aren’t any good to anyone if we can’t be good for ourselves. It’s the lesson I tried to impart to Georgie as she sobered herself up, but one I needed just as much.

As we recite our vows, I block thoughts of Steffie’s death. I want to believe she’s here in spirit, smiling and proud of her pain-in-the-ass little brother. Mom would’ve been an elegant mother-of-the-groom, rivaling Cassandra in her pink wraparound dress. Dad, Jaeger, and Kiln, along with Georgie’s father and brother, and my band members are all in tuxes. Another requirement of mine on behalf of Georgie.

I issued the orders I imagined she’d give herself, while everyone else did most of the work. The only thing I left to Abby’s and Zelda’s discretion was the menu. Otherwise, my explicit instructions were followed to the letter. Besides the ring and getting my own tux, I was in the music room, practicing on the song I intend to surprise Georgie with at the reception.

“By the power vested in me and the state of Texas, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride, Sloane.”

A suggestion I’m more than happy to follow, though I don’t make a big production of it because I’m anxious to do the performance. The catcalls and cheers are from Maitland and Adam. Josh joins in and Quint sticks to whistling.

Ignoring the rigid expressions of everyone else, I hold Georgie’s hand and turn her. She looks at Josh who holds Bryn, so I nod to my new brother-in-law and he brings the baby to me.

“May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Sloane Mason,” the preacher announces and the guys blast into a recessional song as I walk Georgie down the aisle and keep Bryn tucked against me in a one arm hold.

On the way to the ballroom—yes, my father actually has a fucking
ballroom
in his house—we stop in the entrance hall. Despite the protests of Jaeger and Dad, I’m not allowing one member of the press corps into the reception. My one concession is taking a few questions now. I want everyone to see that I adore Georgie. Therefore, if she’s hurt, then so am I. It has to be clear to the world that whoever hurts Georgie will suffer.

When we stop, Georgie looks up at me in question. Alarm fills her eyes but I smile with encouragement, twirling a strand of hair around my finger. Her fear eases and she returns my smile. Bryn kicks her legs, yawning before poking out her bottom lip, a look similar to one I’ve seen Georgie have. Bryn’s about to cry, so I kiss her and hand her to her mother, the person who’s attention she’s about to throw her fit for.

“Sloane and Georgiana have graciously agreed to take a few questions,” Jaeger announces.

Georgie buries her head against the baby’s belly.

“Georgiana, what happened to your shoes?”

Of course, that would be the first question. My reaction gave her away, but I know the differences in her height when she has on a heel, as opposed to when she’s in her bare feet.

I’m curious to hear the answer, so I nudge her.

Lifting her head, she bites her bottom lip. Fuck, but she’s sexy. My Georgie isn’t present, the one with the cheek and sass that combines with this aching vulnerability. This Georgie is just open and defenseless.

“Tell him,” I urge.

Wrinkling her nose, she raises her glance to the man who asked the question. “I like stilettos,” she answers. “Someone accidently sent me shoes that even Grandma wouldn’t find appealing.”

Laughter arises here and there. Attention turns to Helen for her reaction and she offers a slight smile.

“Do you think you’ll start a new trend?”

Georgie blinks and looks up at me in confusion. “Who? Me?”

Unable to stop myself, I caress her cheek. She’s clueless that every move she makes will be watched, now that she’s my wife.

“Show us your ring?” a female reporter demands.

“Oh, um…” Voice trailing off, she tightens her hold on Bryn and manages to lift her left hand with the amethyst and diamond engagement ring and simple gold band.

“Have you heard about the open call for dancers? How do you feel about that, considering Sloane’s history of affairs with women touring with the band?”

What the fuck? Who fucking leaked our auditions? I had no intentions of telling my wife now, on our wedding night.

Rigid, I search the faces of Jaeger and Dad, their poker looks firmly in place.

“This fucking press conference is over,” I growl.

Those shutter flashes go wild again. They’d calmed a little as Georgie took questions. Now, I’m on the verge of an eruption and they want to capture me at my worst.

Jaeger rushes toward me but loses his attitude when he sees I’m ready to punch the fuck out of him for fucking with her.

Georgie lays her small hand on my arm and shakes her head, forcing a smile. She swallows. “I trust my…hus …Sloane.” She frowns. “My h-husband. Before this comes up, my grandmother also told me he’s leaving, in case you’re wondering.”

As I process her soft words, these rabid motherfuckers go wild.

“Your grandmother?”

“Where’s he going?”

“Don’t you think you’re a little young to handle a man like Sloane Mason?”

“Sloane didn’t discuss his itinerary with you?”

“Mrs. Sanderson told you before Sloane did?”

Jaeger thrusts his hand through his hair. Georgie hasn’t had media training, so her unerring honesty causes more speculation and frenzy. I have a word or two to pass to Helen about filling Georgie’s head with bullshit.

“I haven’t had a chance to discuss things with my wife,” I bite out. “She was busy making other plans.”

She rocks backs on her heels, but her expression doesn’t change.

“Good day.” I begin to guide Georgie toward the ballroom, where I have a surprise planned for her.

“Let me through!”

I freeze as the voice of Joe Groveston, Dad’s attorney, booms over the noise. He pushes through to the front of the line of media people, the movie-theater styled ropes halting him. I narrow my eyes and he throws me a dirty look. No love lost between us, but he’s the lead attorney on my case. He wasn’t invited to my wedding, so his appearance can’t be good for me.

“Fuck,” Jaeger groans, in this game long enough to see trouble brewing. He usually has time to fix a lot of whatever I get myself into. Not this time.

Georgie shifts next to me, picking up on the nasty currents. “Sloane?”

Jaeger waves Kiln and Pres over. “Get them out of here,” he orders, pointing to the several rows of people with the ability to capture whatever Groveston has to say as a play-by-play in real time.

While Kiln, Pres, and the rest of the detail herds the media out in an orderly fashion, I turn to Zelda. “Get my daughter upstairs.”

She nods but looks to Georgie.

“Why don’t you go with her?” I suggest, to ease her fears.

Clutching handfuls of her gown, she hesitates. “I’m staying with you.”

Her decision relieves me. Still, she follows Zelda’s movements until the woman disappears from view with Bryn in her arms.

“In my office,” Dad calls.

Placing my hand at the small of Georgie’s back, I follow Groveston and my father to the office, not surprised when my band members and Jaeger walk in, too. It does surprise me that Josh, Parnell, Cassandra, and Helen are allowed in.

Groveston’s casual bite off the tip of his cigar and pulling out a lighter fashioned like a six-shooter, annoys the fuck out of me. “Say what you to have to say and then leave,” I tell him.

He blows out smoke and his eyes crinkle, thanking Dad as he accept a glass of bourbon. “Sorry to interrupt your happy day.”

“Bullshit, but whatever,” Georgie says with a sniff.

“Spirited little thing,” he chortles.

“Show some manners, Georgiana,” Cassandra says stiffly. “At least, act like I did my job and taught you respect.”

Georgie raises her hand and wiggles her ring finger. “I’m an old married woman, Mom, with a baby. Whatever I lack is no reflection on you anymore, so stay where you’ve been for months. Out of my life.”

“You ladies can yank each other’s hair out when I’m done. It makes no difference to me,” Groveston interrupts around a puff. “But the man at the center of this feud has bigger problems.”

Touching Cassandra’s arm, Helen whispers to her.

“Would you get to it?” I bark, sick of this bullshit.

“DA’s intending to reopen your case. Kind of hard to deny rape when you claimed the little girl.”

“He didn’t rape me!” Georgie cries.

Groveston shrugs. “According to state law, he did. You were sixteen and therefore unqualified to decide to have sex with him.”

“I was almost seventeen,” she corrects.

“Don’t matter. Unless you were eighteen, that’s not a valid argument.”

Anger tightens Helen’s lips, but she’s not speaking up. If she did, Cassandra would know that, for once, someone put Georgie first.

“I thought the charges were dropped?” Maitland asks from behind me.

“They were,” Groveston confirms. “Seeing as how new information has been uncovered and by the suspect’s own admission, the case will be reopened. DA didn’t take too kindly to dropping the charges and a day later hearing the girl was telling the truth all along.”

“Get me to the station and rebooked.” No use arguing. I should’ve anticipated this. What’s done is done.

“Rand, Groveston, a minute, please,” Helen calls.

“Best to get this over with.” Jaeger rubs a hand over his tired eyes. “I can start planning my media strategy.”

Josh steps next to me. He doesn’t particularly like me, but he knows I love Georgie. Somehow, some way, we’ll find happiness together. “Dad and I will go with you.”

“I have an idea,” Georgie tells me, missing the total dislike on Cassandra’s face. “How about you say we only married to give Bryn legitimacy.”

Eyes rolling, Cassandra smoothens the clingy material of her dress. “She’s already illegitimate, you stupid little cow,” she hisses.