9. Marcelo

Chapter 9

Marcelo

"This is beautiful," I whispered to Jackson as we walked into the church.

There were flowers everywhere, and the perfume of different varieties was a little much for a shifter. Our senses were supercharged compared to humans, and I scented roses, jasmine, lilacs, peonies, and sweet peas that produced a cacophony of aromas.

Jackson sniffed. "Nice."

Maybe humans couldn't pick out the unique scents and my date was just smelling sweetness.

Ushers were showing everyone where to sit, and I'd hoped we'd be near the back, but we trooped behind the guy to the third row. The scents didn't mask the looks we got as we strolled down the aisle to our seats. I held my head up high and tucked my arm in Jackson's, smiling at everyone.

Wedding guests bent their heads and whispered, fingers were pointed and brows raised. Thank gods I was with him because I could imagine their reactions if he'd come alone.

As we slid into our seats, two men in the second row swirled around, and I tensed and gulped. I would defend my mate with my life, but this was his family and we were in a church. I wouldn't argue, raise my voice, or worse, unleash my dragon.

I could fly onto the rafters and singe everyone's hair with my flames .

Don't you dare. We'd have to leave this life and escape to a cave or the distant mountains .

Fine. My dragon huffed and puffed and went to sleep.

"Jackson," the pair said in unison, but their gaze was fixed on me.

My date resembled the alpha. These had to be his dads.

"Dad, Father."

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" the omega said.

That was a power play. I was obviously his date. If his folks were being warm and welcoming, they would have introduced themselves. No need for theatrics or outdated customs.

Not wanting to put Jackson in the spotlight, I introduced myself, and I made a point of saying how he'd told me all about them. Perhaps that was a tad too much, as his omega dad's cheeks pinkened and his alpha father's ears glowed red at the top. They shared a glance, and I jumped in, telling them what an amazing man their son was.

They nodded but neither of them thanked me for praising Jackson or agreed that he was remarkable. Instead, their eyes flicked to their son before they turned around.

I squeezed my date's hand, and he gave me a half smile in return. Sweat dotted his upper lip, and as the church was drafty, I was pretty sure he wasn't hot. Uncomfortable was my guess.

We sat listening to the choir until Jackson's cousin appeared near the altar. The choir sat and the organist played a jaunty tune. Not the more solemn or majestic music I'd expected. His cousin's fiancé strolled down the aisle, tossing roses before him. I loved it. This guy took charge, and instead of someone else strewing flowers in the aisle, he did it for himself.

I'd attended a few human weddings, and while the couple wrote their own vows, the rest of the service was unremarkable. I guessed the pair had been allowed to choose their music and vows, and the rest was the way it had always been done.

The couples' parents in the front row sniffed and wiped their eyes when the pair said their I do's. Maybe it was because I didn't know the pair getting married, but a marriage ceremony felt so impersonal compared to mating. The former was shared with a group, whereas the latter was between the pair-or more-who would walk through life together.

The happy couple walked out of the church, and everyone followed. Jackson and I stood to the side while a photographer took photos of the newly wedded couple and their immediate families. But during a pause in the non-stop photo-taking, Jackson led me to his cousin and his husband and offered our congratulations.

"I hope the family didn't give you a hard time about bringing a date."

"Same old, same old." Jackson had let slip on the way to the church that his cousin was marrying for the wrong reason. Not that he wasn't in love, but his family had been pressuring him to make it official.

"That was interesting." We were driving to the reception venue.

My date shot me a glance. "Is that code for… boring? Weird? Something else?"

"Nah, none of those. I'm just not into big public declarations of love. More of an intimate guy myself."

"It's also expensive." He added that, while his cousin hadn't shared the wedding budget, he had a colleague who was still paying off his wedding, three years after the big day.

"Well, I can confirm the flower bill for this wedding is huge." We walked into the reception and were met with more flowers, plus chandeliers, greenery, candles, draped fabrics. It was a senses overload, and Jackson's raised brows mirrored my own.

"How long before we can get out of here?" I'd always skipped the wedding receptions, so I wasn't sure of the protocol.

"Food, speeches, and first dance. We can escape after that."

We were sitting, our laps covered by a crisp white linen tablecloth, and Jackson placed a hand on my thigh.

I gritted my teeth, telling my cock to cool it. These pants were tight enough and couldn't accommodate an erection.

The evening droned on. Toasts, speeches, food that was edible but not spectacular. Seemed the caterer cared more about presentation than taste, but the wine and champagne flowed. We finally reached the dessert phase, and I counted the minutes until Jackson and I could get out of here. My mind was on getting him naked, not listening to how Jackson's cousin fell in love at first sight.

The guy cringed when his father said that, and I guessed it was a fib, something that would make its way into family folklore.

"Is it time?" I whispered.

"No." My date jerked his head toward the happy couple making their way to the table that contained a cake of many tiers.

"Please tell me they're not going to smash cake in one another's faces." If someone did that to me, I'd walk out and keep on walking.

"Let's hope not. My cousin said they agreed they wouldn't."

I kept quiet, thinking of all the videos I'd watched where one half of the couple agreed no cake in the face and the other person broke the promise.

Someone brought out a sword that had been handed down for generations in Jackson's family. Talk about overkill. It was a cake. I was glad my dragon was asleep because in human myths, knights fought dragons with huge-ass swords.

When the cake was cut, more photos were taken, and the towering monstrosity was carved up to give to the guests, the MC announced the first dance.

Jackson whispered, "Soon."

I drained my wine glass and clapped along with everyone else.

"Now?" I asked my date.

"We could, but I'd like to get on the dance floor with you."

I almost said, "And do what?" But that was a very human way of saying he wanted to dance with me.

"Sure." We'd be chest to chest, crotch to crotch. I was into that, especially if the lights were low and the dance floor was crowded.

He took my hand and led me into the middle of the floor. Most of the guests were chatting, eating cake or dancing, so no one gawked at us or whispered behind their hands.

"This is nice." His warm breath in my ear engorged my cock further, and I pressed my arousal against him. He moaned and pulled me closer. "But I'd like more."

More? I refused to unzip my pants in public. Even if this were a gathering of shifters, I wouldn't pull my dick out.

"Like what?" We twirled around, and I was oblivious to the other couples.

"I'd love to put my hands on your ass."

"What's stopping you?" I was certain I knew the answer, but I had to hear it from him.

"My family. They're conservative." He waved his hand at the silk fabric draped over our heads. "Look at this? Do you think the people who'd done this would accept me groping you on the dance floor?"

"Luckily they won't be leaving with us." That was a hint that we would be leaving very soon.

"I know a hint when I hear one."

"Oh yeah?" I said innocently. "What hint was that?"

He stopped, and we stood still in the middle of couples dancing around us. "You're hoping we're going to the same destination after we leave here."

"You got all of that from what I said? Wow!"

He nudged my ribs. "Stop it. I'd like us to go back to Brooklyn's. How about that?"

"That's the best thing I've heard today. Beats champagne, cake, and even dancing cheek to cheek."

Jackson glanced down. "Is that what we are? Cheek to cheek?"