Taming the Storm (The Storm 3)

I watch on from my seat next to Tom as Jake leans down and kisses his bride.

We’re at Jake and Tru’s house in Littleborough for their wedding reception.

Jake surprised Tru with a wedding at their special place called Lumb Falls here in the UK. It was so romantic and a really beautiful wedding.

When Jake had called Tom to let him know about his upcoming nuptials, I had been with Tom. Tom had told Jake that we were together. I’d heard Jake say to Tom that it was about fucking time.

That had made me smile.

When Tom had gotten off the phone, he’d told me that both Jake and Denny had been on him during the two weeks we were apart. Apparently, they had gotten sick of his mopey, unshowered, and moody ass, and they’d told him to get his fucking act together, and apologize to me, and then beg me to take his sorry ass back.

With me now being Tom’s girlfriend, Jake had invited me to the wedding.

So, we had flown over to England, and I just got to see the most romantic wedding ever.

Now, we’re just finishing up listening to the speeches after eating an amazing dinner.

Jake takes his seat after finishing off his speech, and now, we’re all clapping and cheering, raising our glasses to toast the happy couple.

Tom has his arm slung around the back of my chair, his fingers playing with my hair, while he catcalls Jake for being sappy. Although he is teasing, I can see Tom’s eyes are shining.

I lean over and whisper in his ear, “Tom Carter, are you about to cry?”

He stares at me in horror. “Of course I’m not gonna fucking cry. Um…all male here.” He emphasizes by thumping his hand against his chest. “I don’t cry.”

I know that’s not true. A week ago, I’d held Tom while he cried in my arms after he told me about his dad. But I won’t remind him of that. I’ll leave him with his man pride intact.

“He cried at Forrest Gump,” Denny says, leaning across the table from his seat next to Tom. “We watched it one night back when we were in college, and he cried like a fucking baby at that part when Lieutenant Dan turns up at Forrest’s wedding. Magic Legs,” Denny says in a Forrest Gump voice. “I called Tom Magic Legs for about a year after that.” He chuckles.

“What the fuck, dude?” Tom hisses. “I can’t believe you just told her that.” He turns to me. “Ly, I was drunk, and it was a really fucking sad part in the movie. I didn’t cry like a baby, like fucknut here is saying. I might have shed, maybe, one minuscule tear. But that was it. Asshole here called me Magic Legs ’cause I’m an awesome dancer.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Magic Legs.” Den looks at me again. “Cried like a baby,” he reiterates, grinning. He runs his fingers under his eyes, catching pretend tears.

I start laughing, but I clamp my hand over my mouth when Tom gives me a death stare.

“Can’t believe you cried at Forrest Gump, man,” Smith says, shaking his head at Tom.

Smith is TMS’s lead guitarist. He took Jonny’s place in the band when they started recording again. And seriously, I’d never tell Tom this, but holy wow, he’s seriously hot. He’s wife, Carly, is really gorgeous too.

Tom flips Smith off before taking a swig of his beer. “Whatever,” Tom says, turning to Denny. “You’re no better. Hey, Simone, did Den tell you that he cried like a little bitch when we were watching Beyoncé sing ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’ at Obama’s inauguration?”

Simone is Denny’s fiancée, and Tru’s best friend. She’s really pretty and so sweet. She’s really made an effort to make me feel welcome and part of the group.

Denny gives him the middle finger. “Thanks for that, assface.”

“You’re welcome.” Standing up, Tom gives a half-bow. Then, he sits back down.

Simone laughs. “Don’t worry, babe. I still love you even if you are a dork.” She leans over and gives Denny a peck on the lips.

“Smith cried when we got married,” Carly, shares.

“Jesus, babe.” Smith gives her a look.

She just shrugs, smiling.

“I think crying on your wedding day is sweet,” Simone says.

Denny stares at her. “Don’t expect me to cry on our wedding day.”

Tom leans forward. “Simone, the second you say I do, he’ll be The Star-Spangled Banner all over again, trust me.”

He winks, and Simone giggles.

Denny lifts his hands in defeat. “Fine, whatever. I’m man enough to admit that I cried while hearing Beyoncé kill our national anthem. It was a bad experience for me. Fucking horrible. I still have nightmares about it now.” He fake shudders.

“True,” Tom agrees, nodding. “Seriously, what was up with that? But then, she did totally make up for it when she sang it again live for the press.”

Simone and I look at each other and bust out laughing.

“Jay-Z is one lucky bastard,” Tom muses. “Really, who cares how she sounded? She’s seriously hot. I pretty much spent the whole time looking at her—”

“Um…hello?” I stare at him, returning the death stare I received moments earlier. “Lyla Summers. Your girlfriend. You remember me?”

“Like I could ever forget you.” He grins down at me, and he presses a kiss to my pursed lips. “Don’t worry. Just an observation, babe. Window-shopping is not a crime. As long as no purchase is made, it’s all good.”