23. Jackson

"Mandy, please," I begged, my eyes glued to her as she dragged the wand from her lipstick across her lower lip. Dark maroon, a bold choice to go with her fairly muted eye makeup. "We're going to be late."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Yours," I laughed, coming up behind her and shifting the long locks of curls over her shoulders. "We were on schedule until you fucking tempted me with that mouth of yours in the shower."

"Don't you dare complain about that," she giggled. I wasn't complaining—I enjoyed every fucking second of her lips around my cock, but we couldn't be late for my sister's wedding because of it.

The dark green, floor-length satin gown that she wore was nearly too much to handle. I had no idea how I was going to make it through the evening without ripping it off her body. I couldn't get enough of her during this entire week we'd spent together, and I wasn't about to make an exception tonight.

We'd agreed that we wouldn't talk about the fake engagement, at least not yet. We'd kept our mouths shut unless something absurd had dropped in the press, only bringing it up if it was necessary. She'd gone to work throughout the week then came straight home to my house. She'd slept with me every night. She'd been mine for seven whole days, and I was unable to see spending any more weeks by myself.

"Come on, princess," I drawled, dragging her from the mirror as she checked herself over one last time. "You look perfect. We need to go."

————

As we neared the church, I couldn't help but look at Mandy. She looked unreal, like something out of a dream. Her hair, half-up and half-down, her flawless makeup, her body, her everything. She was wearing the ring I'd given her as she had for the last week, the green in it complementing the green of her dress, and I found myself wondering what the fuck I'd done to deserve this.

Because things always went wrong for me. They never seemed to work out. This was too perfect and I almost didn't trust myself with it, with her.

"What?" She asked, catching me looking at her, her eyes searching mine.

"Nothing," I said, forcing a smile.

I pulled the car up to the front of the church. In the distance, I spotted my sister walking toward the entrance. Fuck.

I pushed the car door open, grabbing my jacket and throwing it over my shoulder as I rushed to the other side to get Mandy. "Let's go, princess, we're later than I thought," I said, holding out my hand for her.

"Oh shit," she replied, her gaze snagging on Tiana in the distance. She grabbed my hand, holding on for dear life as I pulled her from the car, her heels struggling to find their balance on the pebbled ground. "Tell her to wait!"

"She's the bride," I laughed, dragging her toward the front door of the church. "She's going to run on her schedule, no one else's."

Mandy gripped her dress in one hand as I pulled her along, narrowly sliding in the front door around a bridesmaid as she made her way down the aisle. "Jack," she breathed, her cheeks reddening as we made our way toward the front. "We're like, crashing the wedding right now."

"It's okay, just don't look at the people staring," I chuckled, slotting her into the pew beside my parents.

"You're late," Mom hissed at me. Her brows shot up as she locked eyes with Mandy, her irritation slipping away instantly. "Miranda!"

"Katherine, hush," Dad said.

"But Miranda's here!"

"So is your daughter."

The crowd stood at once as the pianist began to play The Wedding March. We followed suit, Mandy's back flush against my chest, and watched as my sister made her way down the aisle alone.

————

Post vows and Mom's incessant badgering of Mandy, asking how she's been for the last ten years, we all slowly made our way out of the church and back into the gravel area that stretched the expanse of the walkway.

As the guests began to make their way to the reception venue down the hill, the photographer held the bridal party and family back, insisting we do a photo shoot in front of the church. I knew it was standard practice, but after so many years of being in the public eye, posing for a photo always seemed to make me nauseous.

"Should I stay?" Mandy asked quietly, her gaze flicking between me and the guests as they walked down the road. "I feel like I'm intruding."

I blinked at her, my brows furrowing at her absurd question. "You're staying. You're family."

"I… I'm not Jack," she whispered, lifting her left hand toward me. "This is fake, remember? I mean, I know we're not supposed to talk about it, but I doubt Tiana would want me in her family wedding photos."

"She wants you here. I want you here," I told her, wrapping one arm around the small of her waist and pulling her in for a kiss. "There's a long list of reasons you should stay and a very short list of reasons why you shouldn't. Stay for me, at least."

She nodded, her fingers absentmindedly spinning the ring on her finger. "Okay."

"Jack! Mandy!" Tiana shouted, one hand in the air, the other desperately clinging to her bouquet. "Come on!"

————

Mandy's hand in mine, we walked down the hill behind the rest of the family and bridal party. It had taken a bit of work to get Mom to leave her alone after the photos, but I wanted her all to myself. I wanted to focus on just us for a little bit, even if it was only a few minutes. I couldn't help but want that with her.

"Can I ask you a question?" I said, grinning as I watched her.

"Anything."

"Say I didn't get taken away ten years ago, proposed, and you said yes," I drawled, shifting so I was in front of her, walking backward. "What do you think our wedding day would have looked like?"

"Oh…" she chuckled, biting her lower lip as her eyes locked with mine. "I don't know. Big white dress, lots of people, probably too much money thrown at the whole thing."

"I'm serious," I said, slowing my steps one by one until we came to a halt. "What kind of wedding would you have wanted, princess?"

She looked up to the sky for a moment, her dark red lips opening and closing without any words. Too many thoughts running through her head. "I don't know, Jack," she answered. "I mean, I've dreamed about my wedding day like every other little girl in existence, but that kind of stopped when my dad died. It felt too weird to think about without him there."

I squeezed her hand in mine. "I understand."

"But if I had to pick something, right now, on the spot," she continued, drawing her gaze away from the sky and back to me, "I'd probably have gone for something in the woods, or maybe Rocky Mountain National Park. Autumn, so it wouldn't have been too hot or too cold, and the leaves would be changing colors. You'd have been in an all-black suit, and I'd probably have worn some kind of color other than white since the whole thing is nontraditional anyway."

I could see the light filtering back into her eyes as she imagined it.

"I'd walk down the aisle to some folk cover of a classic song. But there wouldn't be very many people there—Amanda, Harry, my mom. Tiana. Your parents. You and me. Wade, if he's around. That's all I'd need. And instead of some massive, crazy reception with everyone drinking and making speeches and lots of crazy food, we could just rent some cabin in the middle of the mountains and have a cookout with everyone then later light a bonfire. Tell stories, listen to good music."

"Is that what twenty-one-year-old Mandy would have wanted?" I asked, drawing her a little bit closer as she slowly filtered back to reality. I couldn't stop my heart from pounding, my mind spiraling and thinking of every single way I could make that happen for her. I'd do anythingto give her what she wanted, no matter what that was.

She shrugged. "I don't know. It sounds nice." I planted a little kiss on her forehead, trying to shrug off the intensity of what I was feeling. "What? Why are you being so nice?" She giggled, pushing back on my chest.

"No reason. You're just cute when you stare off into space."

But there was a reason and she had to know that, in her gut. I wanted every second of that day for her—for us—and the more I thought about it, the more I idealized it. I knew we were moving fast, making up for lost time, but god fucking dammit I wanted that with her. I wanted it all.

I wanted to marry her more now than I did when I was twenty-one.