Don't Kiss the Bride
I quickly shake away the feeling of sadness washing over me. No way am I letting myself catch feelings for Jude. Or any other man, for that matter.
“She’s here.” He offers me his hand, and I let him pull me up. “Let’s go get hitched, Sparkles.”
I take a deep breath, teetering on the spiky heels with wobbly legs. “Okay,” I say, smiling. “Let’s do this.”
He holds my hand as we greet the Justice of the Peace on the front porch and continues to do so as we walk with her to the backyard. I’m not sure if he’s doing it to ‘show’ her we’re a happy couple, or to comfort me.
He’s the first boy (or man, in this case) to ever hold my hand, and I like it too much to care what his reason is.
Carol doesn’t stall or give us time to contemplate. She’s got us standing in front of each other under the vined arbor before I can even blink. She asks us to hold hands, and I try not to giggle with nerves, suddenly feeling a burst of childishness—as if this is a game of pretend dress-up. Like when RingPop proposed to me when we were little.
The adult shoes have put me just shy of eye level with Jude, but I force myself to look down at our hands, or at Carol with her mane of silver hair, as she reads the vows in her smooth, cheerful voice. Jude’s eyes have some sort of magical power that suck me in and make me feel like I can’t think straight. Staring into them while I tell the biggest lie of my life seems wrong. Major bad karma.
My hand shakes when I slip the silver band onto his finger, and so does his when he puts a thin, sparkly ring on mine.
I freeze as I stare at the ring on my finger. We didn’t buy the rings together; we just agreed we’d buy each other’s so we’d have them for the ceremony. Props, for lack of a more fitting term. I got his while shopping with Megan at the mall at one of those sterling silver jewelry stands.
But the ring he just put on my finger looks like real little diamonds set into the rose-gold band. A metal and style I once mentioned to him I loved when we were watching a movie together, and the main character was given one.
I didn’t think he was paying attention.
Apparently, he was.
And now I feel like crying, and I have no idea why.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride!” Carol exclaims happily, closing her little book of vows.
We made a deal there’d be no kissing the bride. We’d kiss on the cheek and hope Carol wouldn’t notice or think we were weird. But when I move in to do so, one of my heels gets stuck in the damp grass, and I stumble into him. His hand grasps my waist to steady me, but I still miss his cheek, and my lips land directly on his mouth.
His grip on my waist tightens and he pulls me closer. His lips open to mine. Our eyes close. My hand has found its way to the back of his neck. Our mouths linger breathlessly when they shouldn’t—warm, and damp— before we slowly, reluctantly, pull apart.
With just one kiss our deal has been shattered, our fate sealed.
Chapter 15
Skylar
“Congratulations!” Carol exclaims as Jude and I pull away from each other. “You make such a beautiful, sweet couple.”
I tear my eyes away from his, which have morphed to the color of pewter. My lips don’t feel like my own anymore after that kiss, and I’m not even sure I can get them to form intelligible words.
“Thanks,” Jude replies, his voice totally steady and normal. “We appreciate you coming out here for us.”
“I can take some photos, if you’d like?” Carol offers.
“We’d love that if you have time,” I say, taking a few careful steps toward my phone, which I put on a large rock a few feet away.
I can’t bring myself to look at Jude. Is he feeling all shaky-quakey inside like I am?
Probably not.
It’s possible the way I’m feeling has nothing to do with the kiss at all. I could be having another anxiety attack. Or it might be because I didn’t eat this morning.
“I always take photographs for my couples,” Carol says with a smile as she takes my phone from me. “Maybe stand in front of that big tree? It has lots of pretty red leaves on it.”
Taking her cue, we stand in front of the tree like two twelve-year-olds afraid to get close to each other. The sudden awkwardness between us is thick enough to slice with a knife. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry about it as Carol fiddles with my phone. Finally, Jude puts his arm around me, and we smile as the camera clicks.