Page 21 of Wicked Love

6

GRACE

Thanks to my sewing abilities and creativity, I got to work and managed to transform my maid of honor gown in record time with the help of my stepbrother-to-be. When we put our differences aside, we made a pretty great team.

I kept the skirt part of the gown, and Joe offered me his jacket to wear as a top. It gave full attention to my cleavage. I accessorized the makeshift dress with a wide belt. Beside me, Joe rolled up the sleeves of his button-up shirt, adjusted his vest, and fixed his red tie. With his blond hair combed to the side and gelled in place, he looked very handsome. And still forbidden. No matter how many times I had dreamed about his hands on me and the softness of his lips at night when the lights were off and my imagination took over.

Once I fixed my hair and makeup, I spun on myself in front of the mirror, admiring the final result. “How do I look?”

“Fucking gorgeous with a side of rebel,” Joe said. “I love you in my clothes.” As if he realized what he just said, he clamped his mouth shut. “Huh… I mean, you did a great job here. You should be proud of yourself. You have talent.”

“I will. If I live long enough to enjoy it.”

Joe pulled me to him and planted a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll make sure she stays the fuck away from you. And once this wedding is over, Clarissa will hear from me.”

“No. She’ll take it out on me. If I survive tonight, I’ll lie low for a while until she gets over it. It usually does the trick.”

“Bab—” He coughed to silence his own words. “Grace.” It sounded like a warning. “That’s not the way to live, and you deserve better from your own mother than being chastised for being beautiful. I swear, she’s just jealous.”

“Impossible. She was the queen of the runway back in her days.”

“I bet she was miserable. Always watching what she ate, having people criticizing her body all the time, not being able to enjoy pizza without being shamed for it. You are you. From what I’ve seen of you so far, you’re unapologetic and assertive. If I were her, I’d envy you too.”

“Thanks. Even though it’s not the truth, I love everything you just said.” I grabbed his hand between both of mine, needing his confidence to bleed on me. “We gotta go, or they’ll start without us.” I turned to fully face him. “Thanks for rescuing me earlier. I don’t wanna fight with you. I never had a big brother before, and I always imagined how much fun it would be to hang out together.” On my tiptoes, I kissed his lips. “For what could have been,” I said. “In a few minutes, we’ll never be able to do this ever again.”

Tugging me against his hard chest, Joe kissed me back. A last-chance, toe-curling kiss. My lips tilted up when he stepped back. With my thumb, I wiped the lipstick smudge on his bottom lip.

“There. Let’s go.”

Joe intertwined our fingers and led me downstairs.

To avoid a nuclear war, I stayed clear of my mother until the wedding planner came to get me, my cue to walk down the aisle. I heard my mother’s curse from behind me when she no doubt saw what I was wearing. I didn’t care. The entire time, my focus stayed on Joe, looking too hot for his own good, as he stood by his father. He winked, and I felt the blush creeping up my cheeks. I tried to keep my face neutral but failed at reeling in the grin that threatened to break free on my face.

The princess side of me had pictured a day like this once, sometime in the future. Me in a white gown, my prince waiting for me with glints in his eyes.

That prince wouldn’t have tousled blond hair and hazel eyes. But I prayed he would look at me like Joe did right now. Watching me like he craved to devour me. Our relationship, though, would always be—unlike mine with Joe—simple. We wouldn’t have to hide our attraction or feel like we ever did something wrong by getting together. I’d be happy.

A tiny part of my heart wished Joe could have been that prince. And yet you were not supposed to be attracted to your siblings. And I was. And you were never supposed to have sex with them either. And I had. Even though we would never be related by blood, we were still about to become family.

That sealed the deal, no matter what my heart thought of the whole situation.

I reached the altar, and Joe stepped forward, offering me his arm and walking me to my spot on the opposite side, facing him. Seconds later, Philip did the same with my mother, and she took a stand in front of him.

She glanced at me over her shoulder, an accusing glare in her eyes. She shook her head and brought her attention to her husband-to-be. I breathed easier once I met Joe’s eyes, and he nodded. Yes, we were in this together. He would have my back.

The ceremony passed in a blur.

The newlyweds kissed, and people applauded.

Joe and I linked arms as we walked down the aisle, followed by our parents. A guy sang about love and magic while playing his guitar, his voice soulful.

A server offered us glasses of pink champagne, and our parents got swallowed by the wave of guests raving about the bride’s dress, how cute they looked together, the winter-inspired decor, and the choice of music.

“Grace, this is my best friend, Anderson Ford,” Joe introduced me to the guy with the guitar.

Anderson extended his arm for me to shake. “Call me Andy. It’s nice to finally meet the girl who succeeded in fucking with Joe’s mind without even trying. I never thought I’d see the day when someone would put his heart through the wringer.”

I elbowed Joe’s ribs. “You begged me to not say anything to anyone, but you told your friend. Nice.”