Whitney
Six months later…
“I feel rather conflicted,” Mom said.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My long-sleeved, heavily beaded and sequined lace wedding dress tightened around my lungs with my inhale. I couldn’t exactly blame the seamstress. She did the best she could seeing as we knew my baby bump would be more prominent when I walked down the aisle.
I opened my eyes and met Mom’s gaze. “Why do you say that?”
Mom pressed her lips together, and suddenly stopped, likely because she remembered she was wearing lipstick. “It’s not like I didn’t know this day was coming… but I never expected you to pull it off.”
I scoffed. “It’s not that hard to plan a wedding, Mom.”
She shot me a knowing grin. “Yes, but I didn’t expect you to find an actual mansion that hosts weddings. Though I shouldn’t be surprised since you talked about getting married inside a mansion since you were six years old.”
No matter how much I wanted to shake my head, I couldn’t because Riley was pinning my hair up into an intricate up-do with twists and braids.
“I never said I wanted to get married in a mansion.”
Mom laughed. “You most certainly did. We gave your grandma the full first season of Dynasty on DVD when you were six. With just one look at the sweeping staircase, you said, you were going to get married there. Went on and on about it for a month. Probably gave your dad his first gray hair.”
My brows drew together. I had a very vague memory of Gran being thrilled to watch her favorite nighttime soap opera whenever she wanted, but beyond that… nothing.
Mom blinked and her eyes held a question. “You really don’t remember that?”
I wheezed out a chuckle. “No.”
She fussed with her corsage. “Well, you did. Said Dad would walk you down the staircase rather than down the aisle.” Her eyes came up to meet mine. “And you forced the management to rearrange their whole entryway just so you can do that.”
My head reared back. Luckily, Riley had leaned over to grab a bottle of hairspray. I had done that, and Mensa had questioned it at the time we were planning this shindig. I couldn’t justify it then; I just knew that was what I wanted, and I didn’t care what it took to get it.
“I sure wish Momma were here,” Aunt Nadia said from the other side of the dressing room. Her eyes held even more of a twinkle, and I realized she was holding back a tear. “She’d be eating this up because at that rehearsal yesterday, you looked just like a Carrigan coming down that staircase.”
“Close your eyes, I have to spray your hair,” Riley said.
The hiss of the spray cut the heavy silence.
“All done, you can open your eyes now.”
In the mirror, I locked eyes with Riley and smiled.
She grinned. “I never saw this Dynasty show, but you look so gorgeous and regal, your photographer better take a bunch of photos of you on that stairway because you look just like a movie star.”
From the other side of the door, Finn called, “Can I come in? It’s just me.”
Aunt Nadia opened the door a crack. “Not that I don’t believe you, Finneas. I’m a believer in trust, but verify.”
Finn stepped into the room and his eyes locked on me for a moment before he swung his gaze to Riley. “You did that? Made her hair look that fancy?”
Riley nodded. “Yeah, but I watched a crapload of YouTube, so this isn’t something I can do all the time.”
Finn dropped his chin toward his neck. “Just sayin’ you got talent, Riles. And you can do anything you put your mind to. If you like this sort of thing, don’t waste your time at Har’s shop.”
Riley nodded again.
Finn looked at me. “You’re stunning, Whitney. Gonna have to make sure Mensa doesn’t fall down when he sees you.”
I smiled. “Thanks. Something tells me you’re here for more than just a check-in.”
“Yeah, there’s some confusion about whether there’s an open bar or a cash bar. Cynic’s threatening to call—”
Aunt Nadia held up her hand. “Have you gone ‘round the bend? Do not bring this problem to the bride on her day. Tell William to sort it out.”
The door swung open, and Wyatt came into the room. “Dad’s trying, but we thought Whitney might know something or can call someone.”
Mom stood. “Oh, let me through. I’ll take care of it.”
It was only when Finn and Wyatt stepped to opposite sides that I took in their appearances fully. “Why are you in tuxedoes? Mensa and I agreed, no tuxes.”
The idea of my man in a tux did things to me. Seriously though, asking my biker bad boy to don a monkey suit was taking it a step too far.
Wyatt shoved his hands in his pockets. “I hung up my leather gear when I took down Rod and six other Corrupt Chrome members. I can’t show up in jeans for my sister’s wedding.” He jerked his head toward Finn. “I don’t know what his excuse is.”
Finn wouldn’t meet my eyes, but he winked at Riley and sauntered out the door.
I focused on my twin, and took a mental snapshot. “I’m glad you put in the effort, Wy.”
A soft smile played at his lips. “You’ve never looked better, Whit.” His lips twisted. “It’s not too late if you want to run. I can get you into an unmarked vehicle and have you up in Jackson before the sun sets. Might even get you on a plane if you want.”
My eyes widened. “Forget it, little brother.”
His eyes hardened. “I’m not your little brother.”
I grinned. “I’ll always be thirty-nine seconds older.”
“Stop bickering with the bride,” Mom said, hurrying back into the room.
Dad stood at the doorway and poked his head inside the room. “It’s handled. Sorry they came up here.”
Mom waved a hand at him. “You can come see your daughter.”
I heard a snapping sound, a flash went off, and I spied Sherry, my photographer, shooting over Dad’s shoulder.
“So gorgeous,” she crooned. Her eyebrows shot up and her eyes widened. “Wait! The whole Blume clan is together. Let’s do group shots before we run out of time.”
I stood and reflexively ran a hand along my small belly.
Snap.
I glanced up and had new respect for celebrities dealing with paparazzi. Sure, I’d paid for Sherry’s services, but the random snap-flash combo unnerved me.
“Sorry, that’s the last candid. Your face was perfect though. So tender. I love it. You’re going to want that shot framed.”
I had little doubt my face was tender, and if the photo came out as I expected it to, it would be framed. But I didn’t believe word one of her first statement. That wouldn’t be the last candid…hopefully all the others would be just as frame-worthy.
***
Mom put her hand on Wyatt’s elbow, and he covered it with his. I watched him escort her down the stairs to the lobby. Moments later, Aurora headed down the stairs holding a bouquet of gerbera daisies. When Aurora was halfway down the staircase, Riley followed her.
Dad let out a soft sigh and shook his head. “This might not be such a great idea, sweetheart. You’ll be lucky if I don’t trip on those stairs. Are you at least wearing sneakers?”
I jutted a foot forward and raised my gown. “Nope.”
The flash went off and I pulled my foot back.
“Great,” Dad muttered. “I’m seeing spots. The odds are not in our favor.”
I chuckled and patted his bicep. “It’ll be fine, Daddy.”
He tipped his head back and gave a half-groan. “Now you break out the big guns.”
The Bridal March started, and I heard the rustle of everyone standing.
Dad nudged my shoulder with his. “Are you sure you’re sure?”
I closed my eyes against the threatening tears. Dad asked me that from the time I was little until the day I applied for the FBI.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I whispered, fighting tears.
He took a step forward, and so did I. “It’s a big change, but if you’re sure. I trust you.”
The grand staircase in this mansion wasn’t a sweeping curve like the one on Dynasty, but it was equally grand. The stairs went up and at the halfway point, there was a spacious landing with a stairway to the left and the right. Ordinarily the landing housed a small table with a humongous vase of flowers. Since I wanted to use the staircase for my big entrance, the staff had relocated the table and flower vase.
At yesterday’s rehearsal Sherry insisted I use the staircase on the right – even though I’d wanted to use the one on the left since it was closer to the dressing room.
“No, Miss Whitney. I’ll have another photographer with me, but if you enter from the left, your groom will see you in profile before he gets the full magnificence of you in your gown. Trust me, using that other staircase means I can get a great shot of you on the landing, and my co-photographer will get a picture of Kenneth the very moment he sees all of you.”
Sherry’s flair for drama made me doubt her about the staircase. But the moment Dad guided me around to face the lobby, I knew Sherry had serious expertise.
I’d never seen such an expression on any man’s face. Mensa’s mouth dropped open just a touch and he licked his lips. His dark eyes held a blend of awe, surprise, a hint of lust, and even a touch of reverence.
To be fair, my eyes probably held much of the same for him. I’d never seen Mensa in a suit, so the vision of him in a full-blown tuxedo took my breath away.
Mensa stepped forward, but Finn clapped a hand on his shoulder. My man tilted his head by a fraction, but didn’t look at Finn. He got a lock on his control and eased back to his place.
His eyes never left mine as he twisted his head toward Joules – who was wearing a three-piece suit, but not a tux. It looked like Mensa said something.
Joules hung his head and I saw his shoulders shake.
Finn shook his head, and I noticed he said something also.
The smile on my man’s face dimmed just a touch. Dad and I had reached the aisle runner, and the closer I came to him, the more Mensa’s eyes heated.
“There’s a chance I underestimated him. As long as he always looks at you like that, he’s the right man for you in my book,” Dad murmured.
***
As soon as Joules gave Mensa the go-ahead to kiss the bride, Mensa laid a very hot and heavy kiss on me.
He broke it, pulled back half an inch and murmured, “I hate to say this, but we’re cutting this party short. I want you all to myself, and I don’t give a damn who that bothers or even offends.”
While I loved that he wanted me that badly, my mouth ran away from me. “I only get one wedding day, honey.”
His head tipped back, and he groaned, reminding me of Dad doing the same thing less than an hour before. I couldn’t hold back my giggle.
He tipped his chin down, his heated eyes searing into me. “Two hours, tops, baby. I’m serious. We got a room to check into, it isn’t here which means we gotta make an exit, and the sooner we do that the better.”
My head tipped to the side. “I better get to dance for more than two songs, Genius. It’s the best part of any wedding… you’re not allowed to let me down.”
When I convinced Mensa to dance with me prior to the wedding, he’d laid down a single rule. For our first dance, he’d only dance to Bob Marley, Slightly Stoopid, or Nightmares on Wax. No question Bob Marley was a legend, but I hadn’t found any of his songs connected with us. Nightmares on Wax had interesting songs, but for a first dance… I wanted something meaningful.
Gamble and Victoria’s wedding a few months ago had been heavy on songs by Slightly Stoopid. Afterward, I went home and read the lyrics to some of their songs, and it hit me instantly. “Ever Really Wanted” by Slightly Stoopid spoke to me, and it had enough of a beat that Mensa wouldn’t have to just wrap his arms around me and sway.
Our DJ, Gabe, must have been given a directive because precious little time passed before he cued up John Mayer’s “Daughters.” Dad and I swayed for almost four minutes, and I diligently ignored how shiny his eyes were.
“Do you know what you’re having?” Dad asked, his voice husky.
“Not yet. We find out in a couple more weeks.”
It was the middle of the song where Mayer does a brief guitar solo, then sings about boys. The way Dad looked at me, I knew he’d listened to the lyrics before tonight.
“This singer’s wrong. Son or daughter, the idea isn’t to break them or see what they can take. It’s important to be good to both.”
I nodded.
Dad lowered his head toward me as though to kiss my cheek. Instead, he murmured near my ear, “I know you’re going to be a mother who’s good to her daughter or her son.”
I fought hard against my sob, and succeeded. But I couldn’t contain the tears.
“I learned from the best,” I croaked.
Dad gave a small shrug, and the moisture had receded from his eyes. A steely glint taking its place. “I mean it, though. This guy does you wrong, it’s the last thing he’ll do.”
“Dad, he’d never do that.”
Dad nodded. “Yeah, but you know what they say… never say never.”
“Seriously?”
He grinned. “I love you, Whitney. Nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing. Only thing I’ve ever wanted for you, sweetheart, is your happiness. I can see he does that… so it’s a hollow offer. Sort of.”
The song ended, I went up on my toes and kissed Dad’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.”
Everyone clapped, and Mensa led Celeste onto the floor as the first notes of “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac filled the room. While Mensa danced with his mom, Riley handed me a plate with a full-sized crab cake, a stuffed mushroom cap, two meatballs, a few grapes, and a couple strawberries.
“The caterer was supposed to have mini crab cakes. How did you score one so big?”
She grinned. “Mensa knows how much you love them, and insisted that you get full-sized ones.”
I stared out at my man dancing and whispered, “I love the way he takes care of me.”
“Yeah, Uncle Dean takes great care of Auntie Celeste, so get used to that from him.”
I turned to smile at her.
She tipped her chin toward my plate. “Eat the mushroom first. That filling is spectacular.”
I popped the mushroom cap in my mouth and turned wide eyes to my matron of honor. My groan could be heard over the music, but only to Riley.
She chuckled. “Yeah. I got half a mind to call this caterer up just to get a tray full of those.”
By the time I had scarfed down the food on my plate, “Landslide” ended, and Mensa hugged his mom. As soon as she pulled back, he whirled a finger in the air, and “Fire” by The Ohio Players began.
At the edge of the dance floor, Trinity tugged at Roman’s hand to get him to dance. Mensa crooked a finger at me, and I wandered toward him. Over his shoulder, I saw Tiny guiding Sierra toward the floor.
I boogied up to Mensa. “Between rumors that went around about your club, and the fact Roman and Tiny are the first two getting onto the floor, I get the feeling this song has more meaning than it should.”
Mensa’s lips quirked. “You’re imagining things, Ragstone. It’s a great song about a shit-hot woman.”
In no time, the Riot brothers and their women crowded onto the floor, along with my extended family and any thoughts about criminal activities fell by the wayside. I didn’t know if Mensa had given Gabe a list or not, but we danced to three more songs before my man pulled me from the floor.
Gabe’s smooth, deep voice cut through the room. “If there’s anything I’ve learned from being a DJ at a Riot MC wedding, it’s that anything goes, and tonight… Mensa and his woman are going out early. Everyone grab a bottle of bubbles from the bowl by the doors and wish them well.”
“What? We haven’t even cut the cake,” I said.
Mensa grinned at me. “I told you I was cutting this short, and we don’t have a cake.”
He was right. We didn’t go the traditional cake route. Most cakes contained tons of dairy products, so we’d found a baker who made dairy-free donuts, and we’d ordered three-tiers of donuts. I’d been looking forward to feeding my man in front of everyone.
“Are we at least taking a few donuts with us?” I asked.
My husband grinned. “Already in the SUV.”
Two minutes later, we were hustling out of the mansion.
“Where are we going?” I cried while ducking my head from the onslaught of bubbles being blown at us by friends and family standing in the courtyard of the mansion.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m driving, Mrs. Ragstone,” Mensa said, leading me to his gleaming, black Tahoe.
He’d bought the huge SUV the same day as my first OB-GYN appointment.
The moment he learned I was pregnant a few months ago, Mensa made love to me. As soon as he knew I had cleaned up and was good – he whipped out his phone and started searching for a vehicle.
“I do have a sedan,” I muttered.
He cut me some side-eye. “You’re a twin. They say it’s unlikely you’ll give birth to twins, but I’ll be damned if we don’t have another vehicle so there’s enough room for you and our baby…or babies.”
I’d balked at such a gas-guzzler. Not to mention, I’d had to drive one a time or two in the FBI, and I wasn’t a fan of driving a modern land-yacht.
Now, as my husband helped me angle up into the vehicle in my wedding gown, I was glad he’d insisted on such a big vehicle.
He drove us away from the mansion, toward Gulfport.
“You aren’t taking me back to the Holiday Inn Express are you?”
He chuckled and grabbed hold of my hand. “No. We did that the night I put my cut on you. Though, we are staying at a Holiday Inn property.”
I turned my head to stare at his profile. “We are?”
His lips quirked. “Yeah, because we got an early morning flight.”
“We do? Where are we going? How could you have planned a honeymoon without me knowing about it?”
“Not telling you how I did that, woman. But, I will tell you we’re going to Orlando so you get to see 3 Doors Down.”
“What?” I shouted.
He smiled.
“That’s awesome. I can’t wait! Jonah told Riley she had to see them the next time they came to town because their show was so good.”
Mensa glanced at me and back to the road. “He told me that, too. Now you get to find out for yourself.”
“I love you so much.”
“Love you, too, Whitney.”
***
Mensa
Two years later…
Mensa watched L.J. (short for Liam Jonah) toddle around the living room on his mini-Harley push toy. It was amazing how their son had grown and changed so fast since birth. His dirty-blond hair had more wave to it. He had a stubborn streak that matched Whitney’s.
L.J. stopped, looked around, then at Mensa. “Mama?”
Mensa grinned. “She’s in the bathroom, buddy. Do you want a snack?”
His boy nodded enthusiastically.
Mensa picked up his soon-to-be two-year-old and took him to the kitchen. He put him in the highchair, strapped him in, and gave him some grapes.
Whitney being in the bathroom shouldn’t bug Mensa, but he’d noticed she wasn’t eating much. When she did eat, she couldn’t keep it down.
Mensa whipped his gaze to the calendar stuck to the refrigerator. He didn’t have the exact dates, but things were adding up.
Whitney trudged into the kitchen. “Oh good. You gave him the grapes.”
Mensa nodded slowly. “You got something to tell me, baby?”
Her eyes locked with his. “What do you mean?”
He arched a brow. “I don’t think you’ve got some sort of stomach bug. I’m pretty sure you’re gonna give me another baby.”
Her eyes widened. “Why hadn’t I thought of that?”
He sauntered across the kitchen to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “Because whenever you can, you’re sleeping. Another sign I should have picked up on.”
She rested her hands on his chest. “You and me both, Genius.”
“Are you excited?”
She smiled. “Of course, I am. But, I should take a test first, so we know for sure. I was on the verge of calling my doctor because this fatigue is kicking my ass. If the test is positive, I’ll call my OB-GYN instead.”
Mensa dipped his chin. “And your parents. My math might be off, but you’ll probably be due the same week as their trip to Oregon.”
She nodded. Then those blue eyes twinkled up at him. “Are you excited? Two little people and you’ll be close to forty then.”
He gave her a light squeeze. “I don’t care how old I am as long as you’re healthy and happy.”
Her head tilted. “And the baby is happy and healthy, too.”
He kissed her forehead. “That’s a given, woman. Go take the test.”
Seven minutes later, she leaned a hip against the island. “You were right. Our family’s growing.”
“Get over here,” he growled from his seat at the kitchen table.
She came closer, and he pulled her onto his lap. “Thank you, Whitney.”
“What for? Pretty sure I should be thanking you for knocking me up.”
He cupped the back of her head and pulled her lips to his for a long kiss. “Thank you for giving me our babies and your love.”
She slid a hand along his bearded cheek. “That’s a given, baby. The pleasure is all mine.”