Quarterback Bait by Celia Loren

Author:Celia Loren [Loren, Celia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hearts Collective Publishing
Published: 2015-10-18T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Ash

July 23rd

My mother looked surprisingly good in her polka-dotted white chiffon dress. Carson had deigned to help tailor it, and the fabric magically seemed to make curves of her nonexistent hips. When she said “I do,” Anya's face broke open like a raincloud, and I felt for an instant that maybe—just maybe—all this marriage hullabaloo was for real.

The Pastor, in his rented tux, didn't look half so trucker-y as usual. His greying hair was slicked back from his face, and without the shadow of his baseball cap covering his eyes, I was more than a little shocked to learn that his cheekbones were strong and his jawline pronounced. I couldn't quite understand what she saw in him, but when I saw his eyes also go liquid at the sound of the tinny wedding march sounding from the out-of-tune piano, I felt relief. Perhaps things wouldn't go to shit after all.

Mr. Dempsey—or Nate, as he'd told me in the truck—seemed more emotionally affected than the whole congregation slapped together. He fidgeted beside me, and I snuck a peek of a fat tear hovering on the lip of his eyelid as the newlyweds sashayed down the aisle. I smiled to myself. He was definitely cute, in a hipster kind of way. He was older, and sort of a teacher, sure—but he was kind. And I figured I deserved to have someone who was kind to me.

Carson shot me a strange look from further down our little bridesmaids’ aisle (for the “church” was too small for us to stand up next to our mother, like proper attendants). At one point, I caught her trying to mouth a question in my direction. She had a right. I had basically brought a stranger along to my family's most intimate moment to date. But my sister's curiosity was nothing compared to the unrelenting gaze of Landon, who hadn't stopped staring at me since I climbed out of Denny's truck in my bridesmaid gear. I was aware of his eyes on the side of my face throughout the whole ceremony, despite him being clear on the opposite side of the church, flanking his Dad. Beside him, his haughty, beautiful girlfriend kept her mouth in a rigid line—but he didn't even glance her way. I didn't know what the intention of his gaze could be, but I felt the whole, concentrated force of his wet brown eyes on my body as I bent to pick up a hymnal, as I slid a tendril of hair behind my ear, as I walked down the aisle to receive communion.

In turn, I tried not to look at him. It was kinda creepy. There was something almost violent in his intensity—and an irrational part of me wondered if he would come gunning for me like a charging rhino, were we to make eyes. I supposed he was cross because I'd brought along a stranger to his Pop's wedding, but Nate Dempsey had been nothing so far but perfectly polite. Even though

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