“We’ve been through this. Paris is our home, and we’re happy here. I’ve just got everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m not going to start over just to be closer to you lot. The dance school is really taking off, and I don’t want to jeopardise anything.” It’s true; I finally feel like I’m in the right place and that I don’t need to battle to prove I’m the best anymore. I’ve reached the pinnacle, and I don’t need anyone’s validation except my own. That’s something that Scott’s taught me, and I love him for it. “At least you’re not the one keeping us away this time, Big Brother.” I grin up at him and poke my tongue out.
“Speak for yourself. Brother-in-law or not, I’m not sure I could stand to be in the same city as Landon for more than a few days.” I roll my eyes at my husband as he squeezes me closer to him. He offers his hand out to Landon, and he takes it, shaking it confidently. They both give a roguish smile, which shows the mutual respect for one another that's somehow occurred. And, thankfully, there’s no more fighting. Which I’m taking as a definite win.
“Excuse me. We’d like to take the bride and groom for their photographs,” a smartly dressed woman announces. She takes the glasses from our hands and heads off in the opposite direction.
“We’ll catch up later. Thank you for everything.” I kiss Landon and hug him, knowing that it was his doing that conjured the wedding day from a fairy princess book. His and Mother’s, anyway. Well, Willow, probably. She gives me a sly smile as I blow her air kisses with my free hand that's not gripped in Scott’s grasp.
“I won’t make it through the rest of this without some time alone with you, Seffi. You in that dress is something that is testing my resolve.”
“Oh, relax. You should see what’s under the dress.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
“One dance, then I’m taking you to the bridal suite and tearing that fabric off whether you like it or not.” He seals his threat with another scorching kiss, tipping me back to make me gasp as he holds me comfortably in his arms.
The sound of a camera clicking breaks the magic. “Perfect. Now, if we can take you over by the blossom.”
We both grin at each other. Scott’s smiles are free and honest with me now and make him all the more devastatingly handsome. And I vow to do whatever I can to keep us smiling, even with all of my family around.
LANDON
For the first time in nearly nine hours, I’ve got her to myself. It’s been a whirlwind of action since eight this morning, and whilst the pomp and circumstance are somewhat exhilarating, and walking my sister down the aisle was reasonably idyllic, the constant fucking hassle of talking and socialising is not.
“What are we doing now?” Willow asks as I drag her through the event space towards the stairs.
“Fucking.”
“Landon!”
“And don’t bother acting coy about it. You’ve done nothing but prance around in that dress and wind me up.”
“I have not. I’ve been the very essence of haute couture and French fashionista.”
“Slutty. And purposefully so.”
I pull her around the corner of the stairs, aiming for our suite, and then can’t damn well be bothered with the distance. My shoulder barges at a door a maid just came out of, maybe hoping it’s a cupboard. I haven’t done cupboard fucking before.
This is as good a time as any.
It opens on the second shove, and she’s bundled into the room and the door closed behind her before she can even think about protesting. The layers of green skirt get rucked up in my rush, and she’s pushed back towards a stack of shelves.
“I can’t believe you’re even thinking of doing this,” she says as I wrap her leg around my back.
“I can, hold on.”
“You’ve got to be down there giving speeches in precisely eight minutes.”
I push the non-existent scrap of underwear out of the way and get my hand where it wants to be, eyes looking down at the vision. “Which is plenty of time for what I’ve got in mind.”
“Landon. Look at me.” My gaze comes up to her as my fingers stroke inside her. She flutters her eyelashes at me, tips her head back and moans. “While this is lovely, your sister has one wedding day with any luck. You should be concentrating on that.”
“Lovely? I am not fond of that word in this particular instance.” A point proved by me making the feeling inside her not quite so fucking lovely. All those features harden on her, and she squirms, moving her leg from around my waist back to the floor.
Her hand goes to my chest, pushing me away. “She needs you in these minutes,” she says, straightening her dress. "Stop being a selfish arse.”
“Selfish?”
“Yes. Behave. You’ll get plenty later, and you know it. Go and be big brotherly.”
She smiles and cocks her hip as if demonstrating the kind of entertainment that might be on offer. I can’t say the thought will help me much with speeches.
