Untwisted (18 page)

He sighed heavily. “Yeah. Sure. Why the hell not.”

“Thank you. This is so incredible.” She hurled herself at Jazz again, who was a bit more prepared this time and managed to catch her without losing feeling in her left breast. “I’m sorry we got such a rocky start yesterday. I never should’ve believed Mama,” she said next to Jazz’s ear, low enough for only her to hear.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it all out.” Jazz patted her back. “We have time.”

“Yeah. We do.” Molly pulled back and aimed a sly grin at Gray. “Guess y’all want some alone time now. I’ll just go look at the giraffes or something til you’re ready to go.” She gave Jazz a sheepish look. “I can catch a ride back to the hotel with you guys, right? My fundage situation is kind of sketchy at the moment.”

“No kidding,” Gray said. “Yeah, we’ll find you.”

“Great. Thanks.” Molly bounded up and probably would’ve kept on going if Gray’s voice hadn’t stopped her cold.

“Wait a second.” He crossed his arms over his chest again, doing his best irritated parental unit imitation. Jazz had to hand it to him. He was kind of a natural. “I believe you have something else to confess to your sister. Involving me.”

She blinked at him, all wide-eyed innocence. “I do. What?” Then her face clouded and she waved her hand. “Oh. That. Yeah, we already talked about how I tried to kiss you. She’s cool. You’re cool, right?” she asked Jazz.

“Well, I wouldn’t say cool exactly, but I’m not murderous about it, so I guess we’re all good.”

“You’re not angry?” Gray asked, clearly perplexed.

“Nah. She won’t do it again.” Jazz looked to Molly for confirmation. “Right?”

Molly nodded with all the sincerity of a Girl Scout. “Absolutely not. It was just a random drunk moment. You know, total beer goggles.” She waved at them and started heading toward the bright sunshine beyond the exit of the carousel building.

Jazz frowned at Molly’s retreating back. “Wait a second. Beer goggles? You were drunk?”

“See ya later, sis,” Molly called, disappearing into the crowd.

“Dear God. I’m not ready for this.” Jazz buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking from laughter or disgust or hell, maybe even joy that she might, just might get her sister back again for real.

“Exactly what I said.” Gray dropped to the bench beside her and stretched his arm along the back. “So how’s my baby?”

“Still irritated at you.”

“Even the fetus is? That’s pretty impressive. I didn’t realize they were capable of—” He laughed when she hit his arm. “Watch it, slugger. I’ve had a long day.”

“You have? What about me? I thought you two were plotting against me.” Saying it out loud drove home how dumb the whole thing was. Molly was still a little bit of a wild card—okay, a lot of one—but she knew Gray, heart and soul. He’d never do anything to hurt her unless he had absolutely no choice.

No one was arguing his methods needed some serious improvement. But the motivation behind them couldn’t be faulted, ever. Not when one glance into the eyes she knew so well told her how much he loved her.

She might still have a case of heartburn from hell, but she was a lucky, lucky woman.

“Plotting, yes. Against you? Never.” He sucked in a breath. “Though now’s probably as good a time as ever to tell you that I hatched another scheme yesterday, and I suppose it serves me right that it’s not going to happen.”

Jazz frowned. “What do you mean the wedding’s not going to happen?”

“Look at the time. We’re running out of it. We still have to—” He broke off and locked his jaw. “How do you know about the wedding?” He slapped a hand against his forehead. “Christ, why am I even asking? The motormouth from San Jose, right?”

“Nope. It wasn’t Molly.” She shouldn’t feel smug that he’d guessed wrong. Besides, she shouldn’t even be having this conversation. Harper had sworn her to secrecy.

“Then who? Lila?”

“No way. Lila’s like a drill sergeant. She never violates protocol.”

He rubbed his jaw. “Well, then, how the hell—” He groaned. “Fucking Harper. You damn women can never be trusted.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” She cupped her stomach. “Little ears.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “See? Biased.”

“No bias. It’s just the baby knows your voice. In fact, I’m pretty sure—” A sudden ripple through her stomach made her stop and rub her belly. “Huh. Weird.”

“What weird? What? What’s wrong?”

She grabbed his hand and placed it where hers had been. “Feel that?”

From the wrinkle between his brows, she knew he was concentrating hard. He heaved out a breath and shook his head. “No. I don’t feel anything. What’s happening?”

“I think the baby just kicked. Either that or I’m never eating corndogs again, because I think one’s alive inside me and trying to get out.”

He laughed again and slid his hand down over the slope of her belly. “No. Nothing. What did it feel like?”

“It’s hard to explain.” She shrugged helplessly and guided his hand back to where she’d felt the first sensation. “It feels like…that,” she said triumphantly when it happened again.

“That’s a kick? That ripple?”

“Well, I haven’t been pregnant before, but from my reading it seems possible.”

“It’s early.”

“Tell your son that,” she said drily, nudging him back. “Anyway, if we’re running late, we better get a move on. I’m not doing this twice.”

But he wasn’t paying attention to her any longer. He dropped to his knees between her legs and slid his long-fingered hands over her stomach, sculpting the small bump. “Hey Dylan, it’s your daddy. Your mom thinks you’re just a corndog. Kick her again and prove her wrong.”

“Watch it,” she said, but she couldn’t help laughing. God, he was so cute and she was so ridiculously in love with him, no matter what bonehead moves he made or silly stunts he tried to pull off.

Except their wedding. That was no stunt. This was the most important day of her life.

“I think you’re trying to let us know that you don’t approve of us fighting or worse yet, your mom walking out without talking to me and making me practically sick with worry all day. So sick that I spent your college fund on bears and bouquets and enough chocolate to fill the Titanic.”

“Sick with worry?” She brushed his long dark hair out of his eyes. “Really? And what bears?”

But he wasn’t finished. “She was right to walk out on me though, because I was an ass—assorted names she could call me, and probably will later. I’ll take them. I shouldn’t have offered her sister money, even if I didn’t think the bill would ever come due. I shouldn’t have planned a wedding without talking to her first and getting her input, but see, the thing is, I just want to be married to her so damn bad that I don’t want to wait another hour, never mind another day.”

“Gray,” she warned, sniffling. “I have cried enough today. I am not getting married with red eyes.”

He glanced up at her. “You still want to marry me?”

“Are you fucking stupid?”

His lips quirked. “At times, yes. As yesterday and today have proven without a doubt.” He lowered his head and kissed her belly button. “But I love you with everything I am and everything I hope to be, and I gotta hope that’s enough.”

“It is. More than.” She smiled mistily and covered his hands with hers. “I shouldn’t have walked out on you. I should’ve talked it out.”

“You should have. And if you do that again, there will be punishments.” His smile turned naughty. “I have a whole brown bag of things to torment you with now.”

“Hmm.” She pretended to think. “And I’m supposed to want to be good, right?”

“Whether you’re good or bad, I’ll always be waiting for you to come home.”

That right there was everything. He was her home, and she was his, and together they’d build one for their child. Nothing could be better than that.

Grinning, she squeezed his fingers. “Let’s go get married.”

CHAPTER NINE

This was it.

Gray waited at the end of the makeshift aisle at the top of a hill in Bridges Park with his best man, who had ended up being Simon when they’d drawn straws. He didn’t have a best male friend, and Simon, Nick and Deacon all qualified as good ones.

Some might wonder how a friendship had occurred between him and Nick, and he wasn’t even sure himself, but he was just as happy it had ended up being Simon. Having Jazz next to him and Nick would be just too weird. And Deak…well, Deak was needed elsewhere.

Nick and Molly and Sin from Rebel Rage—who just happened to be in the area for a solo club show—sat off to the side up front, just in front of the scattered folding chairs. They were tasked with the musical accompaniment, since Gray, Simon and Deak were a little busy at the moment. So far Nick and Sin seemed to be doing the bulk of the playing, while Molly looked back and forth between them with starry eyes. Gray had yet to see her do more than pick a few notes, but she held her instrument like she was used to it and had an ease that spoke of some practice. The ability part remained to be seen.

His parents and Lila sat in the front row, along with a few assorted gawkers Jazz had made friends with upon arriving at the park. Gray smiled. Nothing new there. Father Freeley’s niece was also sitting up front, excitedly bouncing in her chair. Gray hoped the priest didn’t freak out when he saw the Simon’s Skanks shirt. There hadn’t been a lot of time for adjustments.

Evidently there had still been enough time to attract the attention of the paparazzi. At least one or two of the spectators had whipped out a notebook or camera, and Gray had seen a chopper overhead a little while ago that had made Lila shake her fist. All in all, they weren’t being bothered. If Oblivion continued its rise, they wouldn’t get off this scot-free in the future, but he only intended to get married once.

Gray glanced at Simon, who kept pulling at his collar and generally looking uncomfortable. Gray, on the other hand, couldn’t have been calmer. It was a perfect San Francisco day without a cloud in the sky. Father Freeley had been right. From the park, you could see the Golden Gate Bridge and the bay. From this high up, it sparkled as if diamonds had been tossed upon its surface.

For a quickly thrown together wedding, it was pretty damn nice. Nick had produced a Spanish guitar to “add some flavor” to the music and everyone was dressed to the nines—including him, because thank God, Lila had thought of tuxes. Simon had the wedding bands, which weren’t exactly what he’d chosen due to the supposed sizing issue but they were close.

So far, so freaking good.

“Aren’t you supposed to be walking Harper down the aisle?” he said under his breath to Simon.

He shook his head rapidly. “Nope. I’m not walking anyone down any aisles anytime soon. Bad mojo. Besides, Harp has been spoken for.”

“What’s that supposed to—”

The woman in question appeared at the other end of the aisle and snapped her fingers in Nick’s general direction. “Wedding march, please.”

He saluted her and started playing, followed swiftly by Molly and Sin. And Molly actually
was
playing. Gray watched her fingerwork for a moment, impressed in spite of himself. She wasn’t phoning it in. Nice to know the girl didn’t blow smoke about everything.

A hush fell over the very small crowd and he glanced toward the aisle as a beaming Father Freeley joined them up front. “Don’t forget to breathe,” he said to Gray.

“Oh, I’m breathing just fine.”

“Fucker’s not even nervous. That’s not right.” Apparently realizing he’d just sworn in front of a man of the cloth, Simon blessed himself. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Father Freeley patted each of their arms. “If a man can’t swear at a time like this, when can he? Though I do think you might rethink your breathing assertion once you see your beautiful bride.” He winked at Gray.

Gray swallowed thickly.
Your beautiful bride
. She was finally his. After all the missed signals and the arguments and the times when they’d been so far apart he hadn’t believed they would ever be able to close the gap, he was going to marry Jazz in front of the people who mattered most.

If that wasn’t a miracle, he didn’t know what was.

Deacon and Harper appeared arm-in-arm at the other end of the aisle, smiling at each other before they let go of each other to extend their arms behind them. Jazz appeared from the back and stepped between them, wearing a shoulderless cream dress with a lacy bottom and clutching a bouquet of wildflowers. Their gazes met, locked. She smiled, her joy evident even from a dozen feet away. Her lips moved and he knew exactly what she was mouthing to him because he felt the echo down to his soles.

Love you
.

Grinning broadly, Harp and Deak both slid an arm around her waist and the three headed up the aisle as one. Jazz had not one person to give her away, but two, and they were two of the people she loved most in the world.

With Jazz’s first step, Gray’s breath faltered. With her second, his heartbeat stalled out completely. God, Father Freeley must be psychic, because his chest seized like he was having a cardiac event. Not from nerves. Hell no. From absolute anticipation that this gorgeous, perfect, completely exasperating woman truly wanted to be with him.

Forever. Finally.

As she approached, the more details he saw. She was barefoot and had flowers braided into her hair. If she wore any makeup, it was too subtle to be detected. And when she moved, the dress clung just slightly to her rounded belly.

Love slammed into him hard enough to nearly knock him off his feet, and still, he couldn’t drag his gaze from hers.

When the three of them reached their version of the altar, Deak took her hand and placed it in Gray’s. He curled his fingers around hers and lifted them to his mouth, unsure if he’d be able to get out the vows they’d written on their way to the park. And even if he did manage to speak, he was almost certain he’d never remember a single word while lost in her wild blue eyes.

“Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today to unite Grayson and Jasmine in holy matrimony.”

“Or unholy,” Simon said with a quick glance at Jazz’s belly before blinking innocently.

Gray grinned and tightened his hold on Jazz’s hand. Holy or unholy, any kind of matrimony sounded just fine.