Keeping Him Page 3

  The butterflies in my stomach are swirling around rapidly, and I know it’s just nerves. The moment I walk down and see Trent waiting for me, it’s all going to finally set in that we’re really getting married.

  “Okay, let’s do a first run!” Jessica snaps her fingers and goes to the head of the line. “The orchestra will start playing, and that’ll be the first couple’s cue to go. Take small steps, loop your arms into the guys’, holding the bouquet with your other hand, and remember to smile!”

  I chuckle at Jessica’s overexcited tone, but she’s done such a great job, and it’s taken so much stress off my plate. My dad and I stay back as we wait for our turn. From down here, I can’t see the aisle, so I know when I take those steps upward, I’ll see Trent eagerly waiting for me.

  “Jackson!” Jessica scowls, grabbing my attention. Oh God. What’d he do now? I peek around Emily and see him causing a scene. My heart races as I think how he must be handling all this right now. I know I shouldn’t worry about how he feels, considering all the opportunities he’s had to confess his own feelings, but I know him well enough to know he’s using whiskey as his normal coping habit.

  Honestly, when I was a teenager and dreamed of my wedding day, I always imagined Jackson would be at the end of the aisle waiting for me. I had the whole thing planned out in my mind, but I was young and obviously naïve. I will always care deeply for Jackson, no matter what, but a part of me wonders how my life would’ve turned out had we crossed those boundaries.

  “Jackson, straighten up, or I’ll have no choice but to call Mrs. Bishop down here.” Jessica’s threat makes me chuckle because everyone knows Mama Bishop calls the shots ’round here. “And stop licking Faith’s cheek.”

  “You got it, ma’am.” Jackson throws her his infamous wink and cheesy grin, but he’s a fool to think it’ll have any effect on her.

  “Just go.” She rolls her eyes and motions for him and Mila to walk down.

  I knew asking Jackson to be in our wedding party was a risk, but he’s been a part of my entire life, and it didn’t feel right not having him involved. Of course, Trent was against it, but he knew it was important for me to have his support, so he eventually gave in. However, now I’m wondering if it was the worst idea ever. Jackson barely makes eye contact with me anymore and always has a smartass comment to say about everything I do. I know getting engaged was a shock to him, considering the night Trent proposed he ended up in jail for being his normal idiot self, but as I’ve been saying to myself since the day Trent and I started dating, Jackson’s had his chance. He had fifteen years to express his feelings or ask me out, or hell, make a damn move. I don’t think my feelings for him have exactly been a secret, but instead of doing something about it, he dated all my friends instead, making me think I wasn’t good enough for him.

  I couldn’t wait forever, I remind myself when I start getting overwhelmed with emotion. I love Trent so much, and I know he’s going to make me happy. He’s sophisticated, smart, and has been up front about his feelings for me since day one. Trent loves me, and I love him.

  “Okay, Kiera,” Jessica says when it’s just my father and me standing. “The orchestra will finish playing as soon as everyone’s in place and ready. When the ‘Wedding March’ plays, everyone will stand, and that’s when I’ll motion for you to walk down.”

  “Got it.” I smile, squeezing my dad’s arm tighter. With the fake bouquet in one hand and my other arm looped through my dad’s, we make our descent down the aisle. My eyes lock on Trent’s, and we hold gazes until we make it to the end.

  Pastor Montgomery walks us through the rest of the ceremony. I look around and try to soak this all in, but it all still feels so surreal. In twenty-four hours, I’ll officially be Mrs. Trent Laken, and we’ll be celebrating our love with our family and closest friends.

  “Then I’ll announce you as husband and wife, Trent will kiss his bride, and when the orchestra starts playing, you’ll walk back down the aisle.”

  “You’ll grab your bouquet first,” Jessica reminds me. “That way the photographer can get the first shots of you two as husband and wife.” She smiles.

  Jessica insists on running through everything one more time. As we all walk down the hill to line back up, I pull on Jackson’s arm and tug him toward me.

  “Hey!” He stumbles, nearly tripping over his feet. As soon as he sees my face, he straightens and adjusts his shirt. “What?”

  “What is wrong with you? How could you show up drunk?” I whisper-hiss, crossing my arms over my chest. Jackson notices the way it pushes my breasts up, and his gaze lingers there. “You better get your shit together. Or don’t even bother showin’ up tomorrow,” I snap, walking away before he can respond.

  Thirty minutes later, we’re finally done rehearsing and back at my parents’ house for the dinner. They set up tables inside and out on the patio to accommodate everyone.

  As the night goes on, I’ve cried at least three times from people giving toasts and saying the sweetest things about Trent and me. It’s really starting to sink in. This is my last night as a single girl. Tomorrow, I’ll go to bed as a married woman.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” a gravelly voice whispers in my ear from behind me, and I know it’s Jackson before I even turn around and face him. He looks defeated as if he realizes everything is about to change. I furrow my brows and try to read his face, but all he offers is a nod toward the door and his hand.

  Looking over my shoulder, I see most of our guests are outside sitting around the bonfire and drinking. The sun has set, and the stars and moon are the only sources of light.

  “Okay,” I agree, taking his hand.

  We walk in silence as Jackson leads me down the path to one of the horse barns. I’ve always felt the electricity between us, and even falling for another man hasn’t stopped that. I honestly don’t think anything will at this point. Jackson has a piece of my heart, whether he wants it or not.

  “Where are we goin’?” I ask, breaking the silence that’s fueling my anxiety.

  “Almost there,” he says. A few minutes later, we’re rounding the barn on the side that gives us the most privacy. My parents’ house can’t be seen from here because the trees and bushes obstruct the view.

  “You’re freaking me out, Jackson,” I tell him when he stares down at the ground. “What is it?”

  He finally lifts his head, his lower lip stuck between his teeth, and when I peer in his eyes, I see hunger and agony.

  “Are you sure about this, Kiera?”

  My eyes nearly pop out of my head. “What? Am I sure about getting married?” I step back, needing the space between us before I do something stupid.

  “Are you sure about marrying him?”

  “Why are you asking me this?” I whisper. “I wouldn’t be doing anything I didn’t want to do, Jackson. You don’t need to baby me.”

  He steps forward, closing the gap between us. I swallow at the closeness, needing the space from him, especially when I can smell his scent—a blend of whiskey and mountain spring soap.

  “Are you happy?” he whispers. “I just want you to be happy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

  Jackson’s confession has tears surfacing, and as much as I try to hold them back, they pour out. This is the side of Jackson he’s only ever reserved for me. His softer, kinder side. The side that shows how much pain he’s in. A pain he won’t let me heal.

  Jackson brings his hands to my face and brushes my tears away with the pads of his thumbs. He’s cupping my cheeks so intimately, I almost forget to breathe.

  “Answer me,” he demands. “Are you happy?”

  My hands wrap around his arms, and my nails dig into his skin as I silently plead for him to stop asking me that question. Jackson leans in and presses his forehead to mine as our breath mingles together.

  “Jackson…” I say, trying to gain control of my emotions. “What are you doing?”

  He swallows, pausing a moment before leaning back and looking
into my eyes as if he’s searching for an answer. “Something I should’ve done a long fuckin’ time ago.”

  Without another breath, Jackson brings our mouths together in a heated and desperate kiss. His lips crash to mine, and I don’t have enough willpower to push him away. I fist the fabric of his shirt and pull his body against mine until we’re molded together. His warm lips taste like whiskey and beer, a dangerous combination, and when he swipes his tongue along my lower lip, I open for him.

  Jackson pins me against the barn with his hands and hips, letting me feel his erection straining in his pants. It wouldn’t take much for him to lift my dress and feel my arousal, knowing my panties are soaked with desperation and hunger. Moans and gasps echo through the air as over fifteen years of pent-up feelings surface and take over my emotions. This kiss isn’t sweet and soft; it’s rough and needy, just like him. Jackson’s hand slides down to my breast and squeezes it in his palm, and I release the most unladylike moan that only encourages his hand to slide farther down.

  Flashes of Trent and me circle in my mind, and I finally realize what I’m doing. What I’m doing to him. It’s not right.

  This is wrong.

  “Jackson, stop…” I press my hands on his chest and push him back. He looks at me questioningly, his lips red and swollen from mine. “I can’t do this.”

  He brushes a hand through his hair before scrubbing both hands down his face. “I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry?” I mimic, my brows shooting up in disbelief. “How could you kiss me like that? On the night before my wedding?” My voice grows louder with anger. “What is wrong with you?”

  “I-I said sorry. Jesus. You didn’t exactly put up a fight,” he shoots back at me.

  “Well, my head is swirling with a variety of emotions right now. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

  “Really?” He raises a brow. “And what about now?” He crosses his arms over his broad chest. I hate how he looks so damn good right now. And smug.

  “I’m seeing clearly for the first time in a decade,” I snap. “You’re a selfish, egotistical, arrogant asshole,” I spit out. “You wait till now to kiss me. Only a self-centered person would do that, knowing this should be one of the happiest moments of my life, and you needed to make it all about you. You’re supposed to be my best friend! Well, you know what, Jackson Bishop? It’s too late.” I point my finger at him and dig it hard into his chest. “You’re too fucking late.”

  Walking around him, I don’t look over my shoulder as I make my way back to my parents’ house, and then I wait until I’m alone in the shower to cry out fifteen years’ worth of heartache.

  Chapter Two

  Jackson

  I fucking hate standing in weddings.

  I’m so sick of everyone getting married and forcing me to dress up or walk down the aisle with a smile on my face. The only good thing about attending is the free booze and drunk bridesmaids.

  I love my family, but this wedding business is too much sometimes. First, my sister, Courtney, married Drew several years ago, then my youngest brother Alex and River got hitched two years ago, then Evan and Emily just this past summer, and now Kiera and Dr. Douchebag are getting married too.

  Thank God John and Mila decided to elope over the summer, and I didn’t get stuck with preparations or cleanup duty. They met earlier last year when Mila came to help him with baby Maize, then fell in love and got engaged last Christmas. She was hired as his nanny, but things heated up between them pretty quickly. We all fell in love with her, and she easily became a part of the family. I’m happy for them but so damn glad they didn’t go through all the trouble of planning a wedding. I’ve seen firsthand how much stress it can cause.

  Reaching into my vest for my flask of whiskey, I take a long sip and enjoy the burn as it coats my throat. I hate everyone in this room, and the only way I’m getting through it is if I’m loaded. When Kiera asked me to be in the wedding party, I laughed in her face, but then realized she was being sincere. After smacking me for laughing, I reluctantly agreed. I find it hard to say no to her after all these years of being friends.

  Friends.

  That’s all we’ve ever been, and I know I’m to blame for that. Kiera made her feelings for me obvious years ago, but I wouldn’t let myself act on them.

  Instead, I dated and fucked every other girl. Including most of her friends.

  Her leaving for college was supposed to be my saving grace. I’d hoped to be able to get over my feelings for her once and for all, but it did nothing to dull the ache I feel every time I think about her.

  Kiera has always deserved so much more than me—so much more than I could ever provide her. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, and I knew if we crossed the boundaries of friendship, I’d ultimately end up ruining what we had, and our friendship would forever be jeopardized. I needed her too much to risk it, and if that makes me a selfish bastard, then so be it. Having Kiera in my life is a necessity, and whether it’s her calling me out on my shit or just sitting around and talking, I wasn’t willing to give that up because of how I’ve always felt about her.

  Kissing her last night was long overdue, and I know she felt it just as strongly as I did even if she pushed me away.

  But now it’s her damn wedding day, and I’m standing in a room with her soon-to-be husband, Trent, and all the other groomsmen that consist of mostly his brothers and cousins. Thankfully, I know most of the bridesmaids, so I won’t be alone for long. I’m walking down with my sister-in-law, Mila, and I plan to get as wasted as I can before the end of the I Do’s.

  “Can we do a few photos before y’all have to head out?” the wedding photographer, Lindsey pops her head in and asks. She’s a stunning redhead, and I quickly glance at her left hand for a ring. Empty.

  “I’m already dressed, but if you insist, I don’t mind undressing for you.” I speak up before anyone else has the chance. All heads turn toward me, but the only reaction I’m concerned about is Trent’s, especially considering we’re not on very good terms. Kiera told me he hired her, and she’s a longtime family friend, which I’m pretty sure means former fuck buddy. Though I know he’d deny it if I asked.

  Maybe I should ask just to see his jaw clench. It’s quite amusing to rile up the tool bag.

  “Watch your mouth, Bishop,” Trent growls, and I smile in victory before flashing a wink at Lindsey. His face turns red as if he’s contemplating on giving me a black eye, though he knows better.

  I knew it.

  “Let’s do some in front of the barn since the ladies are still getting ready,” Lindsey interrupts, plastering an awkward smile on her face.

  The barn. The same barn I kissed Kiera against last night.

  I needed one opportunity to see if she had any lingering feelings for me, and though my timing was shitty, I now know she does. Anyone who kisses another man the night before their wedding isn’t as in love as they claim. I know I’m not being fair. I’m just as selfish and self-centered as she says, but it’s for a good reason. Kiera isn’t the type of girl you hit-it-and-quit-it with. She’s the forever type, and I’ve known that since we were fifteen years old. I’ve never been able to give her what she needs or deserves, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it. Keeping my distance all these years gave me the Guinness World Record for blue balls.

  “Okay, if you could all stand in one straight line and face me,” Lindsey instructs, waving her finger around. “Trent in the middle and five of you on each side.”

  I line up as directed, thinking how stupid we all look in these vests. Trent’s wearing a tan vest while the rest of us are wearing brown ones. They’re paired with dark wash blue jeans and long-sleeve, button-up white shirts underneath. And if that’s not country enough, we’re all wearing tan cowboy hats.

  At least we’re not dressed up as penguins, so I can’t complain too much. Still, I hate it.

  “Alright, everyone look up here. Going to take four shots.
Ready?” Lindsey holds her hand up, counting down, and then starts snapping away. She then directs us to make a V shape so Trent’s in front, looking like a smug asshole. He deserves to have his face punched in, but I’m really trying to be on my best behavior for Kiera’s sake.

  “Great. Just a couple more,” Lindsey announces. “Just the groomsmen for one shot and then Trent and the best man.”

  As I walk toward the other guys, I lose my balance and trip on a rock sticking out of the ground. I’m quick to catch myself, but not before Trent blurts out a comment.

  “I knew you’d be a drunken mess. Should’ve never let Kiera invite your ass.”

  My hands ball into fists, the temptation to push him and put him in his place rising every second I’m forced to be near him.

  “You wanna handle this like men, Laken? Or you gonna be a big ole pussy?” I step closer, ready to get in his face before a hand wraps around my wrist to pull me back.

  “Walk away, Jackson.” Mila’s voice is soft but stern. If she wasn’t my sister-in-law, I’d jerk my arm out of her grip and maul Trent’s ass right here and now. That guy has been pushing me ever since he proposed to Kiera. It’s as if he thinks he owns her now and tries to tell her what she can and can’t do, and the thought pisses me off to no end. “It’s time to head to the ceremony and get lined up,” Mila informs me.

  “We can take the rest of the shots after,” Lindsey blurts out to break the tension.

  I turn and face Mila whose arms are crossed over her chest, looking moderately pissed.

  “What?” I furrow my brows.

  She makes a big show of slapping her arms to her sides and huffing. “Really? You gonna give the groom a bloody nose before the wedding? What’re you thinkin’?”