Stealing Her (Covet 1)

Then they’d stepped out to give me privacy.

A knock sounded at the door, interrupting my thoughts.

“Come in.” I slipped my phone back in my pocket as the door swung open, and my father walked in with both groomsmen. Photographers and paparazzi were already snapping photos in the hall. When I looked out the window, I saw at least a dozen news vans.

“Son!” Father slapped me on the back. “You ready for the old ball and chain?”

God save me, I’m surrounded by idiots. “Hey, as long as it’s Izzy.”

He winked at me. “She’s a beautiful girl.”

I simply said, “She’s perfect.”

“You dog,” he muttered approvingly under his breath. “Now, let’s make a toast. Oz, the flutes?”

Oz held four flutes while my father opened the champagne with a resounding pop that sounded like a gun going off. It spilled over as he poured us all champagne.

He raised his glass. “To my true son.” It wasn’t lost on me that he emphasized true. “I had my doubts, Julian.” He shrugged. “But now, seeing you in front of me, I realize that maybe I did pick better than I thought, because this ends with you, doesn’t it? I’m proud that you want this, so damn proud.”

I felt sick.

Like I was going to hurl all over him.

Because it was wrong.

This was so wrong.

Those words, he was supposed to say those words to Julian, not to me.

I didn’t need them.

Julian would have died for them.

Julian was in a coma over them.

I needed air.

Another knock sounded at the door, and the coordinator poked her head in. “It’s time!”

I was out of time.

So was Julian.

Why did this feel so final?

Like I was the one doing the killing.

By saying yes to her, I was turning my back on him.

Ultimate betrayal.

By a brother who should love you the most.

By your other half.

Each step felt wooden as I made my way to the main ballroom. A flurry of activity hit me all at once when I looked up and saw Izzy standing at the doors, her expression more nervous than I’d ever seen it.

I stopped and drank her in, not realizing that we had an audience, not relying on all my senses, because she was overwhelming me in every way. “You’re breathtaking.”

Izzy turned and smiled so bright that I wanted to cry. She was too pretty. I moved toward her then swept her in my arms and swung her around, much to the irritation of the wedding coordinator, who cleared her throat multiple times before I finally set my bride on her feet.

“I’m afraid to hold you too tight.” I sighed against her neck. “You’re too pretty in this dress, too beautiful to be real.”

And she was.

Her dress was formfitting and off both shoulders, it had lace inlay across the top and was hand stitched. It also, thank God, wasn’t white but a deep champagne that brought out her flawless coloring. She was wearing a veil that went all the way to the floor, it too was lace, and her hair was in loose curls hanging around her shoulders.

“Perfect, you’re perfect.”

The wedding coordinator moved to the side and spoke into her headset. “Send out Edward Tennyson. We’re about to get started.”

“I wasn’t supposed to see you yet,” I whispered, still holding her in my arms.

She touched my forehead with hers. “I know. I just needed to see you, to see your face before everything, before . . .” She choked on a sob. “I just realized how desperately I really want to walk down that aisle . . . toward you.”

My heart damn near exploded. “I want that too.”

“I know.” Her hands were shaking as she rose up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I guess I’ll see you at the end of the aisle.”

“Possibly sooner.” I grinned.

She gave me a look of hope just as Oz and Rhett came up behind me, followed by my father, who looked completely relaxed.

Because he had won.

And I’d let him.

Because it meant Izzy.

“Alright!” Our coordinator clapped her hands. “Men, down the hall and take the second left and make your way to the altar. And Isobel”—she beamed at Izzy—“Edward and you will begin your walk once I see that the men are in their places.”

“It’s really happening,” Izzy said with excitement.

My father gave her a tentative smile. “I’m glad you’re so excited about this and not ready to run in the opposite direction.”

I gave her one last look and joined my groomsmen down the hall and out the door.

There was no way to describe the feeling that hit me then, like something was going to happen.

Goose bumps erupted down my arms despite the three-piece tux. I was being paranoid.

Right?

I moved to the front of the church and stared down the aisle.

Something inside me said it was wrong.

Some gut instinct told me we wouldn’t come back from this.