Page 22 of Shattered Hearts
“I’ll be good to him,” I find myself saying. “I’ll love him extra, for all the people who aren’t here. All the people who can’t.”
The scariest part is that I’m not sure I’m acting.
Chapter 7
Riley
With all the commotion around me, my brain races a million miles a minute. Reception hall attendants roll out an ornate cart on top of which a five or six-layer wedding cake stands tall, decorated with blue, green, gold, and purple frosting crafted to resemble the shimmery tail feathers of a peacock.
A peacock cake…Jesus, Harper.
The crowd oohs and aahs at the massive wedding confection’s intricate design. I’m grateful for the distraction. Because right now, all of my emotions must be written across my face. Hopefully anyone who sees me will chalk up my behavior as that of a blushing bride.
Rough fingers appear on the small of my back, and I flinch when I find that Finn has materialized beside me. His brown eyes churn as I gaze into them, eliciting a shiver along my skin. I step away from him as his fingers travel around the small of my back to settle on my waist.
“Don’t touch me.” My words come out sharper than I expect, and a tense moment of irritation unfolds between us until I hear the snap of an HDR camera.
Against my better judgment, I lean in closer to Finn and give the wedding photographer a smile.
He’s taking pictures of us with the cake. That’s the only reason Finn put his hand on me.
“And now, the bride and groom will cut the cake!” Rory’s eager voice bounds through the sound system.
Annoyance lines the muscles in Finn’s forearms as he snatches a giant cake cutting knife stationed on the cart. For a moment, he seems angry enough to cut me with that knife. I remember what I’m supposed to do and settle my tentative hand over Finn’s so it looks like we’re both holding the knife.
His eyes flick to mine. Cameras snap at us like alligators.
Finn guides the knife to the lowest tier of the cake and slices into it. The room applauds, and I manage to plaster on one last fake smile before I remove my hand from his.
At least that part’s over.
I’m one second from walking away when Rory comes in again with, “And now, the ceremonial cake tasting.”
It takes everything in me not to march over to the stage and smash the microphone down Rory’s throat. How many more stupid wedding rituals will I be forced to go through?
I turn toward Finn, expecting him to share my exasperation. Instead, all I find is a handsome man holding out a forkful of cake.
My heart stutters. All the emotion I had dancing with his father returns in a rush. My lips part, not because I want to taste the cake, but because I want to yell at Finn.
Why didn’t you tell me your mom and brother died when you were little?
As if Finn and I have ever been the kind of close where a reveal of that magnitude would’ve been appropriate.
Still, I’m angry. Angry at him for agreeing to marry my sister. Angry that he kissed me like he wanted me. Angry at my stupid heart for continuing to hope when it knows better.
But after that dance with Shane, all I see in Finn’s face is the hardened exterior of someone who lost everything at such a young age. And he lost everything a second time when his wife died.
It’s impossible to hate him. After everything he’s been through…he deserves to be happy.
Will he find that happiness with Harper?
Finn lifts the fork full of cake to my lips, and I open my mouth wide enough for him to slide it inside. The act of being fed by another person in front of an audience is oddly sensual. By the time I close my lips around the fork, my face is hot.
He fixates on my mouth again, the way he did before he kissed me on the dance floor. I try to distract myself from the memory by focusing on the sweet vanilla buttercream melting on my tongue.
Finn watches me chew like he wants a bite.
Whether he wants to taste the cake or a bite of me remains unclear.