Cruising for Love (The Escape Series Book 2) (4 page)

BOOK: Cruising for Love (The Escape Series Book 2)
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Chapter 9

 

My nerves kick in fully as we take the elevator up to the pool deck.
What is my groom-to-be like? Will I have a chance to talk to him before the ceremony? What if I can't stand him? What if he can't stand me?

"I feel like a herd of butterflies have been set free in my stomach," I confide to Syd.

"A
herd
of butterflies?" he grins at me, and I raise my shoulders, smiling back. Seeming to catch on that I need to focus on something innocuous, he decides, "I bet it's a gaggle of butterflies."

"A gaggle?" I shake my head. "That's geese." Deciding to throw out some more silly guesses, I suggest, "A pride? A litter? A pack? A school?"

He is shaking his head to shoot down each of my suggestions. Once we emerge from the elevator, he pulls out his cell phone––apparently his hasn't been confiscated. After asking his voice recognition personal assistant what a group of butterflies is called, he turns to me and announces excitedly, "It's a flutter!"

Several people turn to give us strange looks at his odd declaration, but neither of us care. "A flutter of butterflies makes perfect sense, and that's exactly what it feels like in my tummy," I tell him.

We are shuffled over to a waiting area behind a double set of doors, which an arrow sign indicates lead out to the pool. For the first time, I see a camera recording all of the action. T.J. and Jamie appear suddenly. She works to hide a wireless microphone pack on my back as T.J. asks, "All ready, dear?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." I try to smile at the camera, despite my nerves.

"Pretend they're not even here," T.J. instructs me, indicating the cameraman, before swishing away.

Nodding, I attempt to dry my sweaty palms on the handkerchief Baggy has given me. I turn to tell Syd it is a good thing I have it, but he is gone. The small crowd gathered around me is filled with strangers, and I already miss him immensely. Even though I've only known him part of a day, I need a familiar and friendly face nearby right now.

I don't have too long to worry about it because the double doors are pulled open and the wedding march begins playing. I am handed a sweet-smelling bouquet of fresh peonies––my favorite flower––before being ushered forward.

I never envisioned myself walking down the aisle alone. Knowing that my family will be watching this when it airs, I wonder if my father will feel cheated at not having been permitted to guide me along the path to this major rite of passage.

Emerging from the covered area, the first thing that catches my eye is the gorgeous sunset over the water. The sky is filled with an amazing array of oranges and reds. The producers have planned the timing of the ceremony perfectly because the lighting is amazing.

Following the white runway, I turn from side to side and notice for the first time that there are brides on either side of the ship. They are both beautiful––one with platinum blond hair, the other with long red waves. Three walkways head towards the pool and three men in black tuxes await us near the edge of it. I am surprised to see the other couples, but am pleased to have been placed in the middle.
That has to be a good sign, right?

Speaking of good signs, the man fidgeting nervously in the middle of the grooms appears to be tall, dark, and handsome from this distance. I hope that holds true as we get closer to each other. Excited, I pick up the pace, wanting to get a good look at him.

"Cut!" The sharp word interrupts the reverie of the moment.

T.J. appears from nowhere. "Ruthie, darling, you have to stay even with the other brides." He sweeps his hands out in both directions, indicating how far ahead of the other two I am.

Both of the other ladies are giving me disgusted glares, as if I have just ruined their big moment. "Oh, ummm, sorry," I stammer.

"Let's try this again, sloooowly." T.J. gives me a patronizing smile before shuffling me back to the entrance doors.

I am turned and fluffed by a pointy-nosed lady holding a clipboard, then the music restarts, indicating it is time for me to walk down the aisle––again.

This time, I nervously watch the brides on either side of me to make sure I am proceeding at the proper pace. I am so busy monitoring their progress that I almost forget to check out my husband-to-be. Once he captures my attention, I am unable to look away. I have definitely hit the jackpot in the never-before-seen groom department.

He is at least six inches taller than me, and if the way his tux tightly hugs his torso is any indication, he has a magnificent body. The best part about him is his piercing green eyes that are gazing at me with a mixture of relief and lust. It is obvious that he likes what he sees, and I feel exactly the same way.

I am so busy looking at him that I fail to hold up my gown as I'm walking up the two steps to the pool platform where he and the other grooms are waiting. On the second step, the front of my high-heel catches in the hem of my dress and I stumble forward. My quick-reacting groom saves me from falling all the way to the ground by catching my arm to steady me.

Our eyes lock as he helps me regain my balance, and I feel a definite spark of attraction zing between us.

"Cut!" The sharp voice interrupts the moment again. "Let's try that one more time without anyone tripping over her own feet."

The other two brides and I are led back to the mid-point of each of our white paths. I can feel the woman on the right shooting eye daggers at me. I turn to mouth the word "Sorry" to her, but she looks angrily away before I have a chance. She has gads of blazing red curls that trail down her back, and I'm sensing that she has a fiery temper to match her locks. I fear that my clumsiness has already made me an enemy of hers.

Silently vowing to be more careful, I slowly and steadily march up the aisle for the third time. This time, when I get close enough, Mr. Handsome reaches out a hand to assist me up the steps. I smile at him in thanks, thinking that maybe––just maybe––he could be my knight in shining armor.

I can feel the bouquet of colorful peonies shaking uncontrollably in my hands as I turn to face him. The silver ribbons dangling from it are visibly swaying.

"Cut!" The now-familiar, but still annoying voice breaks in. "She's shaking like a leaf." The director points at me and I hear a loud huff of frustration emit from the red-haired bride. "Plus, she's managed to get her dress all twisted. Can someone fix her, please?" he yells to the myriad of stagehands and assistants who have unobtrusively moved in behind the cameras.

I can feel my cheeks burning hot with embarrassment as my clipboard-carrying helper dashes in to take the bouquet and straighten the train of my gown. "Sorry," I mutter, but she ignores me.

I'm not sure why I'm the only one who seems to be having any troubles. The other two brides have their own assistants who whisk their bouquets out of the way and re-fluff them, but apparently I'm the only one who
needed
the break. It makes me wonder what would happen if this had been a real-time wedding, rather than a made-for-television one. 
Would I have fallen or gotten married with my dress a twisted mess? How do the other two make it looks so easy and natural?

Trying not to worry too much about it, I focus on my groom after the director calls for "Action!" We each repeat what the Captain of the ship guides us to say. I'm not a big fan of the three-for-one vows, having always thought that my wedding would be my own special day, but I try not to let that ruin the monumental moment.

When it comes time to insert our names, the Captain turns to each of us. When it's my turn he instructs me, "I, Ruth, take you, Cameron, to be my lawfully wedded husband." I bristle at his use of the name Ruth and utilize my preferred moniker, Ruthie, when I repeat it back. I'm pleased to hear my almost-husband's name, though. I've always liked the name Cameron and wonder if he goes by Cam. It's a sexy name that suits him well.

A stagehand appears at the appropriate moment to hand us the wedding bands. Glancing down as we exchange them, I'm pleased to see simple, elegant platinum rings.

The rest of the ceremony goes by in a blur and before I know it, the Captain indicates it is time for the grooms to kiss the brides. As Cam pulls me into his arms, I sidle closer and tip my head back, awaiting our momentous first kiss to seal the deal on this marriage.

Cam moistens his lips with a flick of his tongue before pressing them to mine. I close my eyes, wanting to remember this life-altering moment forever. When he opens his lips slightly to deepen the kiss, I follow suit. Our tongues brush against each other tentatively, and it feels glorious––like the perfect first kiss.

Forgetting everything except our mouths, I allow a groan of happiness to escape. Apparently viewing my approving sound as permission for more, Cam deepens the kiss. Before I have time to react, his tongue fully invades my mouth, forcefully probing in further––nearly gagging me. I yank my head back instinctively, trying to end the onslaught, but his hand on the back of my neck effectively holds me in place. I try not to be overly obvious in my distaste, ever mindful of the camera on the step below us recording every move we make––probably in close-up, high definition.

Finally, I am able to tip back and far enough away from him to end the kiss. Cam smiles at me before saying, "Wow!"

"Yeah, wow," I reply, quite certain that I don't mean it in the same way he does.

He helps me stand back up straight, and I realize that the other two couples are gawking at us. Evidently our first kiss lasted longer than either of theirs had.

The Captain clears his throat before announcing, I now present to you, "Mr. and Mrs. Paul Thomas," indicating the bride with the whitish blonde hair and her new husband. Turning to us, he says, "Mr. and Mrs. Cameron Belchmeister."

"What?!?" I blurt as he turns to the couple with the redheaded bride. "My last name is now Belchmeister?" I screech without thinking. I wonder why they don't pronounce the "ch" with a hard "k" sound so at least the name wouldn't sound like the King of the burpers.

My new husband is looking at me as if he can't imagine what my problem could possibly be with his surname. The bride whose announcement has been disrupted by my outburst is glaring at me as if she wishes I would keel over on the spot. The director is holding a palm to his forehead and shaking his head back and forth as if he suddenly has a piercing headache.

At least he hasn't called "Cut!" again on my account. Deciding to try to smooth things over, I add quietly. "I was planning to keep my last name, Rose."

The Captain turns to announce the final couple with a look of exasperation evident on his face. I don't even register the names because of the blood rushing in my ears. I so wanted to make a good first impression with my television debut, yet had somehow managed to make a complete ass of myself at my own wedding. Hopefully, they will cut out the embarrassing parts of the ceremony in editing.

After the final couple is presented, applause erupts on the deck above us. For the first time, I realize a crowd of actual passengers on this cruise has gathered at the railings to watch our weddings. Feeling silly about my numerous faux pas, but grateful for their warm reception, I wave timidly up at them.

With perfect timing, "At Last" by Etta James begins playing over some hidden speaker system. My new husband takes my hand and guides me to a makeshift dance floor on the pool deck. We dance slowly, and I lean my head against his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being held in his embrace.

As we dance, I decide that everything can still turn out okay. I'll keep my last name and apologize to the other girls for my klutziness during our wedding. I'll be more careful going forward, and I
will
win over the viewing audience.

That horrible kiss is still weighing somewhat heavily on my mind, but that can be fixed, right? I can train Cam on what I like and don't like. It will be fun to practice, and I'll be careful to approach the subject sensitively, so as not to hurt his feelings along the way.

When the music changes to a more upbeat song, Cam swings me around, proving that he does have some smooth moves. We are laughing, swaying to the music, and having a grand time. As the song comes to a rousing end, Cam lifts his arm to twirl me around. I gracefully spin around a couple of times before knocking into the red haired bride who is chatting with the Captain and manage to knock them both into the pool.

As I stand at the pool's edge, still dry and gorgeous, the furious, dripping wet bride splutters to the surface. If I had any doubt before, I'm certain that she hates me now. The Captain glares up at me as he retrieves his waterlogged hat and returns it to his nearly-bald head.

I'm horrified by this entire turn of events. As much as I'd love to blame the rocking of the ship, I fear it's just my clumsiness that has caused this catastrophe. Wanting to do anything I can to help, I reach a hand down to the soaked bride. "I'm so sorry! Here, let me help you."

I only have an instant to see the gleam in her eye as she accepts my offered hand, just before yanking me into the pool with her. I break the surface, shocked that she would purposely dunk me, when what I had done had clearly been an accident. Taking a moment to calm down, I decide to make the best of a rotten situation.

The other bride is still glaring at me. Obviously, getting even hadn't lessened her anger. I look at the black streaks trailing from her eyes and realize that I must look just as ridiculous. Unable to stop myself, a snort of laughter bubbles out of me.

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