Holiday Hoax: Chapter 21

‘Time to get up,’ Melanie chirps.

I roll over in bed. I’ve been awake for hours, pretending to be asleep. My stomach won’t stop flipping in a nervous heap of butterflies. I open my eyes, claiming, ‘Still too early.’

‘It’s almost nine o’clock, girl. Everyone’s going to be in the room soon,’ she scolds.

I groan, then roll over, opening my eyes.

She sits on the edge of the bed. ‘That’s my girl.’

‘You look like you’ve been busy.’

She points to a small cart in the room. ‘There’s your breakfast.’

‘Wow. How’d you do that?’ I ask.

How did I not hear her?

Because I’m so lost in my thoughts.

‘Thanks,’ I offer.

She stares at me for a minute, and I cringe inside. It’s the look she’s been giving me since she arrived yesterday.

I ask, ‘What is it now?’

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ she questions.

My chest tightens.

Am I sure I want to marry Sebastian Cartwright, god of sex and the hottest man on the planet?

It’s not real.

‘Melanie, can you stop, please?’ I beg.

She turns toward me more. ‘Okay, but, Georgia, I don’t understand the rush. Like, how do you know that Sebastian is the one? A week ago, all you could talk about is what a jerk he was.’

‘Things have changed. He’s not a jerk,’ I announce.

She tilts her head. ‘Is something else going on?’

My pulse quickens. I ask, ‘Such as?’

She peers at me closer. ‘Sebastian Cartwright is known for being sneaky and callous.’

Offended, I declare a little too loudly, ‘He’s not sneaky and callous!’

She huffs. ‘Please. He’s known all over Dallas as ruthless.’

My head spins. I wish I could think of Sebastian as ruthless, but I can’t. I’ve gotten to know him, and he’s generous, kind, and even funny at times. ‘He’s only ruthless in business. And never with me.’

She gives me a challenging look, stating, ‘He was at the start.’

‘Drop it! And you should get to know him. It’s not right for you to think about him that way. I’m marrying him!’ I cry out, my insides quivering.

I’m marrying Sebastian Cartwright for less than thirty days.

She holds her hands in the air, surrendering. ‘Okay.’ Then she adds, ‘But you’re positive?’

‘Melanie. Stop,’ I firmly assert.

My door opens, and Emma and Isabella come running into the room. Relief hits me with their entrance.

‘Georgia! It’s the wedding day!’ Isabella shrieks.

Emma jumps up on the bed and hugs me, along with Isabella. I hold them tight. I’m going to miss them so much. They’ve won my heart over, and the thought of them not being in my life hurts. Tears well in my eyes, but I blink them away.

All of Sebastian’s sisters and his mom come in, beaming. Ruby chirps, ‘Time for the bride to get up.’

‘I know, I know. Okay, girls, you got to get off me, or I’ll get in trouble.’ I give them a wink.

They jump off the bed, and I rise. A makeup artist and hair stylist enter the room. Within minutes, I’m behind the vanity. Excited chatter fills the air, but it only makes my nervousness intensify.

Melanie tries to get me to eat breakfast, but I can barely stomach more than a few bites of toast.

‘How do you want to wear your hair?’ the stylist asks.

‘I was thinking down with curls, with a small section pulled back,’ I state.

She glances at my hair and picks up a handful of my locks. She nods. ‘Perfect choice.’

The room becomes full of chatter while my hair and makeup get done. Melanie takes me aside and hands me a box when I’m finished.

‘What is this?’ I ask.

‘Just a little gift,’ she chirps.

Suspicion fills me. ‘Why do I feel like I shouldn’t open this?’

She smirks. ‘You totally should.’

I remove the lid and pull out a white lace thong. It’s delicate and probably costs way more than she should have spent.

My flutters dance in my belly. I glance at her. ‘Thanks.’

She winks. ‘If you’re going to do this, you might as well have a good time tonight.’

My face heats. Sex with Sebastian is unlike anything I’ve experienced. My normal rule about only sleeping with a man who loves me and who I love no longer exists. Now that I gave in, I’m like an addict jonesing for another hit of him.

‘Time for your dress. We have to get moving here,’ Ruby announces.

The nervousness flares all over. I stare at my wedding gown hanging against the door. It’s beautiful. It’s everything I could have ever wanted.

Too bad it’s for the wrong guy.

Is it?

Of course it is. He’s going to get our marriage annulled come January 2nd.

Ruby helps me get in my dress, and I stand in front of the full-length mirror. Too many emotions race through me as everybody fawns over me.

Evelyn claims it’s time to leave.

We go outside, and a limo’s waiting to transport Melanie, Emma, Isabella, and me to the secret garden.

The drive is short—too short. I’ve never felt so nervous. Emma and Isabella get out, then Melanie. I tell her, ‘I need a moment alone.’

She scrunches her face, then sticks her head back inside. ‘Are you sure you’re okay? We can still run.’

Maybe I should.

No, I signed a contract.

He’s already breaking my heart.

I fight more tears and somehow answer, ‘No, I’m fine. I just want a minute.’

She reluctantly agrees and shuts the door.

For several moments, I breathe slowly, trying to calm my racing heart and flipping stomach.

Am I really going to do this?

Yes.

Besides, I can’t leave Sebastian in there all alone. That would be worse than what anybody else has done to him.

I muster my courage and exit the limo. Melanie hands me a huge, beautiful bouquet. Dried chocolate-brown and cream flowers and the same color feathers create an exquisite work of art.

It’s perfect. Everything about this entire situation is, except for the fact that it’s fake. And it hits me harder than I ever anticipated.

The music plays. Emma and Isabella step through the door, tossing soft pink petals on the runner.

Then Melanie leans into me, whispering, ‘Last chance.’

I glare at her.

She holds up her hands. ‘Kidding.’

‘No, you aren’t.’

She kisses my cheek. ‘You look incredible. I’ll never say another word.’

I exhale. ‘Good.’

She steps through the door, and the wedding planner shuts it.

It takes less than a minute before the music changes to the traditional wedding march.

Too many thoughts hit me at once.

No one’s walking me down the aisle. I didn’t feel right asking anyone. I don’t know the Cartwrights well enough to do that. And something about asking Sebastian’s dad felt wrong when this isn’t real. Now, I wish I would have because I’ve never felt so alone.

I miss my grammy. Even though this isn’t real, her absence is felt.

The never-ending question about what I’m doing persists.

The door opens, and the wedding coordinator motions for me to come through. My knees wobble, but I step through the door.

Sebastian appears from behind a row of people, and I almost freeze. My blood pumps so hot, I feel slightly dizzy.

He’s picture perfect in a chocolate-brown tux. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine a man as stunning as him, standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for me. And not once did I anticipate my future husband giving me a look like the one he’s giving me. It’s as if he could have his way with me at any moment, and no matter where we were or what he wanted to do, I’d let him.

Somehow, I manage to make my way down the aisle. Sebastian steps forward, away from the crowd. His blues never leave mine, nor does that dirty expression on his face. It’s the look that always makes me squeeze my thighs, and I reprimand myself.

This isn’t the time to think about sex.

He takes my hands, leans down, and says, ‘Wow, you’re more beautiful than I imagined you’d be, Sunshine.’

My heart soars. I take another breath and smile, telling myself to pretend this is real. Then I’ll be able to get through it.

The officiant says, ‘Should we start?’

Sebastian takes another moment, keeping me entranced in his gaze, then leads me closer to the officiant. I barely hear what he says, grateful Sebastian has his arm around my waist, helping me stay on my feet.

All I can smell is his praline, citrus, and sandalwood scent. And his palm grasping the curve of my waist has a constant supply of tingles racing several inches below it.

When it’s time for the vows, Sebastian turns and grabs my hands.

I realize I’m shaking.

‘Give me a minute,’ he quietly says to the officiant, squeezes my hands, then leans into me, whispering, ‘You okay, Sunshine?’ He puts his face in front of mine and arches his eyebrows.

I nod and force a smile.

He studies me closer, and I nod again.

He murmurs in my ear, ‘Do you wish I invited Ho-Ho-Holly?’

I burst out in a laugh.

He grins and caresses the back of my hand with his thumb.

It helps calm me, and he mumbles, ‘That’s my girl.’

The officiant turns to Sebastian. ‘Ready?’

I nod at Sebastian again.

‘Yes,’ he states.

The officiant says, ‘Repeat after me. I take you, Georgia Peach, to be my lawful wife.’

Sebastian looks at me. ‘I take you, Georgia Peach, to be my lawful wife. I vow to love, protect, and cherish you beyond what you or anyone else would expect me to. I promise to put your needs first, mine second, and not take you for granted. I pledge this in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, until the day I die.’

I gape at him. This isn’t what we discussed. We agreed on normal, boring vows.

His statement affects me. I try to hold back tears, but one escapes.

What is he doing?

Why did he say that?

His words are everything I would ever want to hear from my husband-to-be. I don’t understand why he’s doing this to me.

Maybe I was wrong and Sebastian is cruel.

Is it part of his ruthlessness?

No, he’s not anything but good to me.

The officiant glances at me. ‘Would you like to make your vows, Georgia?’

Panic fills me. My insides turn into a quivering, chaotic mess. Flustered, trying not to cry more, and wondering what I’m going to say, I close my eyes briefly.

Sebastian cuts in, ordering, ‘State the regular vows for Georgia, please.’ He squeezes my hands again and refocuses on me.

I open my eyes, grateful he stepped in. He gives me his award-winning smile, and a part of me calms.

The officiant comments, ‘I take you, Sebastian Allen Cartwright, to be my lawful husband.’

My voice shakes and then it grows stronger. ‘I take you, Sebastian Allen Cartwright, to be my lawful husband.’

Sebastian clenches his jaw, his eyes twinkling.

‘To have and to hold from this day forward,’ the officiant adds.

My lips tremble and my knees wobble more. I repeat, ‘To have and to hold from this day forward.’

Sebastian steps closer, caressing my hands again, and somehow it magically reduces my anxiety.

The officiant states, ‘For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.’

I repeat, ‘For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health.’

The officiant continues, ‘To love and to cherish until death do us part.’

I swallow hard, then raise my chin and square my shoulders, locking eyes with Sebastian. ‘To love and to cherish until death do us part.’ My insides roll so fast that I feel like I might get sick.

Sebastian gives me a small smile.

The officiant beams at us. ‘By the power vested in me by the glorious state of Texas, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Let me introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Sebastian Cartwright.’

The entire room breaks out in applause and shouts.

Mrs. Sebastian Cartwright.

The officiant looks at Sebastian. ‘Well, you may kiss your bride.’

Sebastian tugs me into him and slides his hand under my hair, grasping the back of my neck. He briefly studies my face, then brings his lips to mine.

The room disappears. My body submits against his, molding into his hard frame, and he owns me once more. Only this time, I’m legally his wife.

He pulls back and murmurs against my lips, ‘You did good, Sunshine.’

I stare at him, still processing everything.

‘Or should I say Mrs. Cartwright?’ He winks, then takes my hand and leads me past the chairs.

Everyone begins to congratulate us. By the time we’ve been hugged and kissed by all the guests, the chairs have been moved out of the way. That space is now a dance floor. Servers in tuxes and short black dresses roam the garden with trays full of appetizers. Champagne toasts are being made all around, yet I barely hear anything the entire time.

All I want to do is leave and be alone with Sebastian.

He never leaves my side the entire night. His hand’s always on my bare back. I scold myself a million times for getting a dress that didn’t have a back. I should have known he’d have his hand on my bare skin all night, putting my spine in an overload of tingles.

After dinner and a few dances, it’s time for the bouquet toss. I go to the dance floor and throw it in the air. Paisley catches it and shrieks with excitement.

Alexander moves a chair to the dance floor and orders me to sit. Sebastian gives me his dirty, sexy look, and my butterflies reignite.

The song starts. Sebastian slides his hand up my leg slowly, his lips twitching. I try not to squirm, but I can’t help it and shift in my seat.

He puts his lips on my ankle, moving up my calf, over my knee, and past my garter to the highest part of my inner thigh as possible.

And I swear that I feel him inhale deeply. That only creates more heat searing through my veins.

He finally removes the garter, and I’m positive my face is as red as a tomato. It’s so hot, I’m going to break out into a sweat.

Sebastian’s arrogant expression doesn’t help cool me off. He tosses it, and I don’t know who catches it.

Paisley and the man who caught the garter dance to a song. Halfway through it, Sebastian tugs me into him, and we dance.

There’s no room between us. He can’t get any closer. He leans into my ear and murmurs, ‘Glad your pussy’s on fire for me, Mrs. Cartwright. I’m over this party. How about you?’ He gives me a challenging, dirty stare.

There’s no other answer I can give him. ‘Yes,’ I say breathily, wanting more than ever to be alone with him.

Satisfaction erupts on his chiseled features. He guides me away from everyone, and we don’t even say goodbye.

There’s a limo waiting for us. We get in, and he pulls me onto his lap, kissing me with a newfound fire.

I barely realize we’ve passed the house, but when I do, I question, ‘Where are we going?’

His eyes twinkle. ‘I’m taking you on a honeymoon, Mrs. Cartwright.’