Page 2 of Wedding Whitney (Alaska Blizzard #4.5)
Jake
I knew Canyon Ravenworth, III—my future father-in-law—was going to be pissed when he found out Whitney wants her grandmother to walk her down the aisle, but I didn’t expect yelling at the dinner table.
Lillian arranged a quiet family dinner for us—me, Whitney, her parents, and Lillian—so we can casually drop it into conversation.
She hopes Canyon will be surprised and just let it go, but instead, he goes off on Whitney.
“This is by far the most selfish and thoughtless thing you’ve ever done,” he says, pointing a finger at her. “And you’ve done quite a few.”
“Calm yourself, Canyon,” Lillian shakes her head at her son. “The two of you haven’t had a relationship in years and you’re not paying for the wedding. It’s perfectly legitimate for her to ask me.”
“You always find a way to make yourself the center of attention, don’t you?” He scowls at his mother. “You never had any daughters, so you had to steal away mine.”
“I’ve stolen no one,” she replies calmly. “You have never had any patience for girls, not when she was a child and certainly not now, so why would you assume her loyalty would be to you?”
“She’s loyal to you because you’ve dangled a board position under her nose for years. What she doesn’t realize is that everything will change once you’re gone.”
“Well, lucky for her, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a long time. Now, let’s not argue anymore so we can enjoy our dinner.”
“The two of you are going to make a laughingstock out of me!” he cries, throwing up his hands. “Do you know how it’s going to look to my friends and business associates that I’m sitting there in the audience and not walking my only daughter down the aisle?”
“So this is about you, not me?” Whitney speaks up for the first time.
“Of course, it’s not about you.” He stares at her as if she’s stupid.
“This is all about the optics. What, you think your grandmother is hosting a wedding for five hundred for you? This is about her. Me. The family. The business. The Ravensworth Cosmetics cover model is getting married—and to a professional athlete, no less—this is the Dallas social event of the year!”
I glance over at Whitney, whose cheeks have turned a faint shade of pink.
“But it’s still our wedding,” I say when no one else says anything. “Still our day. And if Whitney wants her grandmother to walk her down the aisle, that’s who’s walking her down the aisle. As you all know, she and I would be perfectly happy eloping. So whatever she wants, that’s what she’ll get.”
Canyon looks over at me disdainfully. “You should mind your own business,” he says quietly. “This is?—”
“What if you both walked her down the aisle?” Whitney’s mother, Delilah, almost never speaks up, so everyone turns to stare at her in shock.
“What did you say?” Canyon demands.
She clears her throat and takes a sip of water. “I said you could both walk her down the aisle, as a show of how much she loves both of you. Then you won’t be embarrassed, and Whitney can still have Lillian at her side.”
No one speaks for a moment, then Lillian chuckles. “It’s always the quiet ones,” she says, smiling at Delilah.
“I suppose that’s not the worst idea ever,” Canyon says, glancing at Whitney. “Whitney? Is this acceptable to you?”
“That’s a compromise I can live with,” Whitney says after a moment, though she reaches for my hand under the table.
I lean back, glad this is settled because I’m going to fight for anything and everything she wants since we didn’t want this wedding in the first place. If she wants a freakin’ kangaroo to walk her down the aisle, I’ll make it happen.
Hopefully, it won’t come to that.
Dinner is pleasant after that, talk turning to how the Dallas Cowboys are going to do this season, when I’ll start training camp, and the cities we’ll see on our honeymoon.
“Paris.” Lillian smiles. “Your grandfather and I went there for our tenth wedding anniversary. It was the only time we were there together, and I cherish those memories. Neither of us dreamed one of us would pass away so young.”
“Dad was always so lost in his books and laboratory experiments, he lost sight of everything else,” Canyon says.
“Your father was a brilliant, special man,” Lillian says sadly. “I miss him every day.”
“Is that why you never remarried?” Whitney asks.
“I never remarried because I would never love anyone the way I loved my Canyon, and as far as companionship goes, I never met a man I found interesting enough who wasn’t after my money. I figured it was just easier to be alone.”
“That sounds so lonely,” Whitney says.
“There’s more to life than romance,” Canyon says. “Ask your mother.”
Delilah lifts one perfectly arched brow. “Oh, there’s certainly more to life than romance. God knows, Canyon wouldn’t know romance if it bit him in the ass.”
Canyon glares at her, but Delilah merely lifts her wine glass and takes a sip, meeting his gaze over the rim almost defiantly.
It’s always like this whenever we’re around her family.
Her parents don’t like each other much, her mom usually drinks too much, her brother mocks everyone and everything that isn’t part of his inner circle, and Lillian merely tolerates everyone except Whitney.
Tonight, Delilah has been nursing the same glass of wine for an hour, her brother Brett isn’t even here, and yet, the dynamic is almost exactly the same.
No wonder Whitney left at eighteen and only came back when her grandmother asked her to sign another contract modeling for the family cosmetics line.
Our wedding is supposed to be different, though.
I’ve made it clear I want whatever Whitney wants, and I don’t really give a shit about anyone in her family beyond Lillian.
Whitney says she doesn’t care either, so I’ve promised myself and her that I would have her back no matter what.
It’s ironic that it was Delilah who came to the rescue tonight, which I don’t think anyone expected.
“Brett and I are going golfing on Thursday,” Canyon says to me before he and Delilah leave. “I’d love it if you joined us. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other man to man.”
“I didn’t bring my clubs,” I respond, though I’m lying through my teeth since I don’t own golf clubs and hate the sport.
“No problem. We’ll get you some.” Canyon claps me on the back. “We’ll swing by the house to pick you up at about nine.”
“Uh, sure. See you then.” I really don’t want to go, but everyone is watching me so I muster up a smile and nod.
“You didn’t have to say yes,” Whitney whispers as we walk up the stairs hand in hand after everyone has left. “You hate golf.”
“Yeah, but I love you.” I kiss the tip of her nose.
“It’s a good thing.”
We pause in front of her bedroom door and I pull her against me, pressing my lips to hers. She sighs, sliding her tongue between my lips and wrapping her arms around my neck.
“Baby, don’t tease me,” I whisper, chuckling.
When we arrived in Dallas, Lillian announced we weren’t allowed to share a room. Even though we live together in Alaska, she made an old-fashioned, unilateral decision that it would be more romantic for us to be apart the last two weeks leading up to our wedding night.
Whitney fought it at first, but I came up with the compromise, saying we could sleep in different bedrooms, but we were both going to stay at the house.
I refused to go to a hotel and threatened that we would go back to Alaska until the wedding if she didn’t agree, so her grandmother finally gave in.
At least this way we see each other in the morning and at dinner, and I can stop by her room at night before I go to bed too.
Gran goes to bed early most nights, and her room is on the other side of the house, and neither of us cares much if we get caught.
We’re adults who live together and have a full life in Anchorage, so we’re indulging her because we love her, even if we don’t agree with her assessment of the situation.
“This sucks,” Whitney whispers.
“She won’t know…” I whisper back.
Whitney glances over my shoulder, as if checking to see if the coast is clear, grabs my hand, pulls me into her room, and firmly locks the door behind us.
“You’re a naughty girl,” I chuckle, squeezing one of her ass cheeks.
“Do I need a spanking?” she asks, laughing.
“Absolutely.”