Page 38 of Craig

Clive stared at him for a minute, before laughing out loud, eyes dancing.

"You really are a cold son of a gun, aren't you, boy? Deny it all you want, but you're more like me than you care to admit."

"Oh, please don't insult me."

The droll comment brought on another fit of laughter.

"Let's go get you hitched."

Craig had to hide the smile as they left the room.

*****

The day was indeed perfect, with nature putting on its best show. The few guests were seated on the rented chairs that had been draped in blue and white material.

A soft green runner had been placed between the chairs, from the front porch to the pergola which was decorated with an abundance of flowers. Birds tweeted and competed with the sounds of the stream gently rushing over stones.

The air was scented with summer, flowers, and trees in full bloom.

The sky was a perfect blue with just a few white clouds gliding along.

Craig could almost pretend it was all real. That he was standing in the scented air beneath the arch, waiting for his bride.

That he was going to be pledging his lifelong commitment to love and cherish her. Then afterwards he was going to be whisking her off to some exotic location where they would spend the next two weeks naked and making love at every turn.

But it was all a charade, a wedding put together to please his grandfather so that they both could get some financial gain. It sickened him and had him wishing things were different.

He wanted it to be different.

He wanted there to be a real priest or minister performing the ceremony, not some drunken has-been who had lost his license and one he was bribing. He wanted it to be real.

He never knew how much until he was standing here waiting for her to appear.

When the music changed, he tensed, the movement automatic. His first glimpse of her had his heart stopping.

He had to use his power of self-preservation to wipe his face clean. She wasn't real.

How could she be? When she looked so perfect, so heartbreakingly beautiful?

He had expected something skimpy; instead, the dress was classy and suited her to perfection. She had made the effort to appear like a bride, and he had to thank her for that.

Forcing himself not to walk over and whisk her away from her brother, he stood and waited, his fingers clenched into fists.

It wasn't until she was standing in front of him that he reached for her.

With her eyes holding his, she handed the bouquet to Kelly and took his hand.

The vows rang out in the stillness of the air, and within minutes, they were pronounced husband and wife.

"You may now kiss your bride," the fake minister told them with a cheeky smile.

He felt when she went stiff as a board as he turned her to face him. He was originally going to go for a peck on the lips when he caught his grandfather's watchful eyes.

"We have to make this look good," he murmured in her ear.

"What?"

"We're being observed, closely." Tilting her chin up, he searched her face and saw the wariness in her eyes.