Sinners On Tour 06 Sinners at the Altar (15 page)

Chapter Four

Rebekah had no idea where Eric was taking her, but she’d learned in the months that they’d been together that he was far more thoughtful than he looked and far more romantic than he acted. When he surprised a girl, it was a very good thing. She stroked the warm metal of her engagement ring, remembering the last time he’d surprised her. There was no way he could top that. Or could he?

“Are you going to give me a hint about where we’re going?” she asked, shifting her blindfold to a more comfortable position, but not removing it. She was determined to be a good sport about his plans, even if they did turn into a fiasco. So far he was doing well, but she never knew what to expect out of Eric. Usually that was a good thing.
But sometimes…

“Nope. No hints.”

She could hear the smile in his tone even over the road noise and the clunking of the cans trailing the car.

“Can I try to guess?” she asked.

“You can try, but I’m not going to tell you if you guess correctly.”

The car bumped over a curve, jostling Rebekah into clinging to the dashboard. She had a hard time with Eric’s driving when she could see where they were going
; it was a true test of her trust to ride in his passenger seat wearing a blindfold.

“Are we going to the tattoo parlor?” she asked. They did plan to have their vows permanently etched on their skin. They’d discussed it several times. She’d already written her vows and had them memorized. She wasn’t sure if Eric had given his much thought yet.

He chuckled. “You’re way off, sweetheart.”

“But you said you wanted to have your vows tattooed into your sleeve
, and I definitely want mine made into a beautiful work of art. Did you change your mind?” She stroked her bare upper arm, imagining a colorful and intricate design with flowers and butterflies and musical notes and words that expressed her love for Eric.

“No
, I still want to do that with you—for sure, can’t wait—but we can have the work done when we have more time. A big piece like that will take hours, and everyone is waiting for us now.”

“Where?” she asked.

“At your—” He broke off with a laugh. “You almost got me to say it.”

“At my…” she said, pondering places that belonged to her and coming up lacking. “
At my… At my
what
?”

Not her parents’ house surely.

He didn’t answer and met the rest of her questions and guesses with silence. Eventually the car pulled to a stop and she could hear voices speaking in a crowd, but they were too far away to make out any threads of conversation or identify who the voices belonged to. The blindfold suddenly dropped from her eyes to cover her nose as Eric tugged it down. She blinked in the glaringly bright light of the early evening sun and willed her eyes to adjust. Was that a circus tent? she thought as her aching eyes glimpsed something huge and white with two vertical stripes in some bright color. She squeezed her eyes shut again.

“Are we getting married on a trapeze?” she asked.

Eric laughed. “No, are you blind? We’re at your father’s church.”

Her jaw dropped. She lifted a trembling hand to her lips, her eyes swimming with tears. She opened her properly adjusted eyes and there it was
—just like Eric had said. Rebekah had so many happy memories of the little chapel with its tall stained-glass windows and white façade. Even though she’d been on the road and unable to attend church for months, she still recalled the worn but gleaming pews. The tall pulpit. The joyous choir. And her warm and welcoming father spreading the word of love to any who would listen. She didn’t have to go inside to feel her connection to this place. It was ingrained deep in her heart.

“I probably should have asked, but I thought you might like your father to marry us.
Since he’s in the business.”

“Did my mother put you up to this?” she asked, knowing the woman could be a bit overbearing and that Eric was not a religious person. She couldn’t imagine him wanting to get married in a church, and she loved him enough to be okay with that. God would understand. He knew love
, and he would never stand in its way. He didn’t care about gender or race or age or anything but the spread of his love. Rebekah had always believed that. Her father had been preaching it her entire life.

“
Okay
,” Eric said with a heavy sigh, “this was obviously a poor decision on my part. I’ll just turn this car around and make a speedy getaway.”

She covered his hand with hers before he could put the gears in reverse. “I would
love
my father to marry us in the church he adores, but I don’t want you to feel forced into doing something you aren’t comfortable with just because my mother happens to think she’s queen of the fucking universe.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. The woman had always been a bit too righteous. Even for a minister’s wife.

Eric grinned. “She never suggested it. Like the dress, it was my idea. I called your parents’ house and when your father answered, I asked him if he’d be willing to marry us instead of giving you away. I think he was crying by the time I hung up, so if I feel any pressure at all, it’s because I don’t have it in me to break that man’s heart. But if you don’t want to get married here, I’ll drive away now and let
you
tell your daddy later.”

She grabbed both
of Eric’s hands and clutched them to her chest over her pounding heart. “But I
do
want to get married here. I do. I do.”

“Hey, save all that
I do
stuff for the ceremony,” he teased.

She flung herself into his arms and kissed him,
the gearshift digging into her thigh—not that she cared just then.

After a moment, she pulled away and examined his face. God, she loved him. How did he know what things were important to her? She’d never told him
how much her daddy’s church meant to her. When they were off tour, she attended service on Sundays when she could, but Eric had never wanted to accompany her. He said church made him feel uncomfortable. So she’d gone by herself.

Eric caught a stray tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “These better be happy tears, damn it,” he said.

“The happiest,” she assured him.

Eric captured her face between his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. “So you said I do and we kissed and everything, so does that mean we’re married and can start our wedding night? Because I really want to do things to you right now. Things I
shouldn’t be thinking about in a church parking lot.”

Before she could answer, there was a loud thud on the hood of
the car. Eric jumped up and shot out of his seat to lean over the windshield and grab someone by the shirt.

“You deliver a guy’s lucky tuxedo…” Trey said, both hands
raised in surrender.

“Don’t hit my car,” Eric said through gritted teeth
. He shoved Trey in the chest as he released him.

“I’ve been standing here trying to get your attention for several minutes,” Trey said. “But I see why you were distracted. Hellooooo, Rebekah Blake.”

“Sticks,” Eric corrected.

“Not yet,” Trey said with a wink directed at Rebekah. “She’s still on the market as far as I’m concerned.”

Rebekah’s face flushed with heat. She wasn’t sure what it was about Trey Mills that made him such a walking aphrodisiac. She wouldn’t trade her Eric for a hundred Treys, but she wasn’t dead. The man was sexy in a flustering sort of way. She’d always thought so. Maybe it was strange that she could still find him attractive after knowing that he’d stolen her ex-fiancé Isaac’s heart and his cherry, but damn if she could hold that against the guy.

“You already missed your chance at a threesome with Trey,” Eric whispered in her ear. “You better get over him fast.”

She slapped him in the shoulder. “If I’d really wanted to have a threesome with Trey, I would have,” she said, just as her mother arrived at her side of the car. Thankfully her mom hadn’t heard what she’d said. Her mother freaked out over sections of Rebekah’s hair being colored blue or purple—as it currently was. Rebekah couldn’t imagine how many 360s the woman’s head would do if she’d known some of the things Rebekah had done on the Sinners’ tour bus outside the sanctity of marriage. Or even outside the propriety of a legitimate relationship.

“So glad it fits you, baby girl,” her mom said, smiling brightly at her wedding dress. “See, I wasn’t always so big boned.”

“You still look fantastic, Mom.”

“I would totally do you, Mrs. B,” Trey said with an ornery grin.

Rebekah was pretty sure that if any other man had said that to her mother—perhaps even her own husband—he would end up with a few less teeth, but Trey slipped a red sucker into his sensual mouth, clicking his tongue jewelry against it, and to Rebekah’s utter astonishment, her mother blushed and flicked her gaze to the ground.

“Ah
, well. Maybe twenty years ago,” she said, obviously flustered.

“I like mature women,” he said. “And younger women. And women my own age.”

“You like any woman with a pulse,” Eric said.

Rebekah was glad Trey didn’t mention that he liked men of all ages as well. She wasn’t sure how her mother would handle knowing about Trey’s lack of preference or that Isaac—the man her mother had been convinced was perfect for Rebekah—had been just as charmed by Trey Mills as every woman in the immediate vicinity.

“Will you stop fawning over Trey?” Eric complained.

“I’m not fawning over Trey,” Rebekah said. “I’m too in love with you to even notice him.”

“So you say.”

“Trey never would have asked my mother to borrow her wedding dress.”

“I’m a lot of things,” Trey said, “but a cross-dresser isn’t one of them.”

Rebekah would flip him off for that later.

“He never would have thought to ask my daddy to perform the wedding ceremony.”

“Yeah, because I’m never getting married.”

“Trey, I’m trying to have a private conversation with my perfect groom. Please see your way out of it.”

“Rebekah Esther Blake
, that was very rude,” her mother said.

Rebekah sighed. “Maybe we should just go back to the courthouse and avoid our respective families.”

“It’s closed by now,” Eric said.

“Then let’s get hitched so we can hurry home to celebrate in private.”

“I would very much like to celebrate your privates.” Eric sprang out of the car without opening the door and reached inside to scoop Rebekah into his arms. She laughed as he struggled to lift her out of the car through the open convertible top.

“This seemed like a good idea,” he said, groaning in protest as he hefted her up and against his chest. “I think I broke my back.”

“Then let me walk,” she insisted.

“I don’t want you to get away,” he said and squeezed her against his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere without you at my side.”

“Promise?”

“Pinkie swear.” She extended her little finger, and he set her on her feet so he could save his back and loop her little finger with his to give it a congenial shake.

Their fingers were broken apart as Rebekah was instantly surrounded by chattering women. Her mother was determined to remove thirty years’ worth of wrinkles from her borrowed wedding gown by tugging and smoothing the skirt with her palms. Everyone else had just discovered the bride had arrived and required a piece of her attention.

Sed’s gorgeous fiancée looped an arm through Rebekah’s and started towing her toward the church.

“We did the best we could with the decorations previous brides left behind,” Jessica said. “It’s a bit of a hodgepodge of styles, but it doesn’t look bad considering Eric demanded we fix it up less than two hours ago. Come see if there’s anything you want changed.”

Rebekah glanced helplessly over her shoulder at Eric. She just pinkie swore that she’d never leave his side and there were already several feet and a couple of extraneous bodies between them. He grinned at her over the crowd and waved her toward the church as the members of his band descended upon him with a bevy of fist bumps, bro hugs, and huge smiles.

“I’ll meet you at the altar,” he yelled.

“I’ll be there,” she hollered back.

Chapter Five

Eric watched Myrna, Jessica, and Mrs. B usher Rebekah toward the church entrance until they were out of sight. Everyone around him was talking at once, and he was too distracted to make sense of any of it.

A crumpled mass of black fabric was shoved into his arms. “You better wear this damned thing,” Trey said. “Besides a lucky tuxedo, you have some really weird shit in your closet, dude. I believe I’m scarred for life.”

Eric snorted. “Yeah, right. I don’t even want to know what’s in your closet.”

Eric and Rebekah did have a lot of kinky implements in their stash of carnal delights, but there
was no way their sexy costumes and sex toys rivaled Trey Mills’s stockpile of apparatuses. Now, if Trey had been going through Jace’s closet, Eric might have understood the affront to Trey’s feigned propriety.

“I guess I’m supposed to act like a girl today,” Aggie said, staring after where the rest of the wom
en had vanished, anything but longing in her blue-eyed gaze. “You know I’d rather stay out here with you guys, right?”

“Is that because women are less likely to be intimidated by you?” Eric asked. He’d never known a woman to wear black leather pants and an off-the shoulder red sweater to a wedding. Until now.

“Aggie has a couple of female slaves,” Jace said, slipping an arm around Aggie’s waist and kissing her. “I guarantee they are plenty intimidated.”

Eric’s brows rose in interest. “I didn’t know you swung that way, Mistress V.”

Aggie grinned deviously. “There’s a lot you don’t know about the way I swing, Sticks. There’s my overhand swing,” she said, demonstrating. “My underhand swing, and my all-time favorite, the backhand swing.”

Jace chuckled. “She doesn’t do anything but spank them. And I’d much rather watch her spank a submissive woman than
whip a man.”

“Aggie lets you watch?” Eric said, his jaw attempting to get acquainted with the ground. “Seriously? Damn… How do I get in on that?”

“It’s more like
make
him watch. For disobeying,” Aggie said.

She whispered something in Jace’s ear that made him blush to the dark roots of his bleach
ed-blond spikes. That thick, brown beard stubble of his didn’t hide his embarrassment one bit. Aggie gave Jace’s ass one hard smack and a punishing squeeze before turning away and striding off after the rest of the women.

“Okay, what did she say to you to make you blush like that?” Eric asked.

“If I tell you, she’ll punish me,” Jace said with a grin.

“And that would be a negative for you why?” Trey said around the sucker in his mouth. “We know you get off on that shit. And if she punishes you by making you watch her spank chicks, sign me up for some of that.” His words were further garbled by the barbell in his tongue.

Eric wondered what he’d interrupted when he’d called Trey earlier. Eric knew the guy only wore the barbell for special occasions. And Eric was pretty sure that weddings didn’t count as special occasions to Trey.

Jace stared at his boots as he said, “Mistress V has a group of six coeds coming over tonight. They think they want to try out some BDSM after their book club read
some kinky novel.”

“
Ooo,” Trey said. “Maybe I should lend you a hand. Six women at once. Not sure if even Sed’s gone to
that
extreme.”

“Maybe a few times,” Sed said with a deep laugh.

“So what did you do to deserve this hellish punishment, Tripod?” Eric asked with a snort.

“Not a thing. She needs my assistance is
all. Aggie thinks she can turn at least half of them into dommes when they use me as their plaything for the night. And watching a bunch of young women spank each other after I’ve been worked over for a couple of hours is bound to make my alone time with Aggie extra hot.”

“I totally understand the appeal of hitting you, Tripod. I just don’t get why Aggie lets other people abuse her sub.”

“I’m not her sub, Eric,” Jace said, pinning him with an annoyed stare. “I just get off on the pain.”

Eric lifted both hands in surrender. “My mistake.” He knew how hard Jace could hit when he was ticked off. And the only stars Eric wanted to see for the rest of the day were the ones in Rebekah’s eyes when she looked at him.

“Okay, Eric,” Sed said, scratching his neck and finding the cloudless sky a bit too interesting. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something? I thought you were getting married today.”

He was. Every other concern fled his mind in an instant. He shook out his tuxedo to find Trey had brought the pants and jacket, but no shirt or vest or tie or shoes.

“Trey?” Eric questioned. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“The rest of it?”

“The shirt and shoes and stuff.”

“You said to bring your lucky tuxedo. You didn’t say anything about a shirt or shoes.”

“You don’t expect me to wear this with a T-shirt and my Cons, do you?”

After a moment of reflection, all four members of his band nodded in unison.

“Yep,” said Brian. “I’d totally expect that.”

“Reb won’t mind. She gets you,” Jace said. “Like the way Aggie gets me.”

“And Myrna gets me,” Brian added.

“And Jess gets me,” Sed said.

“Psh, no one gets you,” Eric said. “Jess just puts up with you.”

Th
at earned him a teeth-jarring smack in the back of the head, which he probably deserved.

Eric slipped the tuxedo jacket on over his white T-shirt. He stared down at his belly, but couldn’t really tell how ridiculous the well-cut jacket looked without a proper shirt and tie.

“She won’t care,” Jace assured him and patted him on the back.

“I’m sure her mother will.”

“And that bothers you why?” Trey asked.

Eric shrugged. Maybe because his only memory of his real mother was her saying goodbye when she’d left him with child protective services. To tell the truth, he didn’t really remember
her
at all. Not what she looked like. Not the sound of her voice. He didn’t remember any of it. He just remembered what it felt like to wait for her. And wait. And wait. Only to finally realize that she wasn’t coming back because he wasn’t worth her time. The stupid bitch wasn’t worth his time either.

Eric and Mrs. B hadn’t started off on the best of terms, but he legitimately hoped that one day she’d let him call her Mom. Not that he would say any of th
at to the guys. Well, maybe Jace. Jace could understand where he was coming from, but the other guys wouldn’t really get it. Trey’s mother was eccentric but unabashedly loving, Sed had the poster mom for woman of the year, and Brian’s mother was a hottie who could not be ignored. Claire Sinclair wasn’t very affectionate, Eric supposed, but what the woman lacked in nurturing, she more than made up for with a fine body and supermodel face. Brian obviously wouldn’t care that his mom looked hot in a bikini, but all of their mothers were better than Eric’s. Even Jace’s mother wasn’t all bad. At least she’d taught him to play the piano before she’d died. It was something. Eric had nothing to cling to. Not even memories or photographs.

Eric wasn’t sure why he was even thinking about his junkie whore of a mother today. He’d abandoned her memory the way she’d abandoned him long ago and was better for it. He hadn’t really thought about her for over a decade. Not since he’d changed his last name from Anderson to Sticks. The name he would give his new wife. The one he’d chosen for himself. Now that he was no longer an eighteen-year-old punk with a chip on his shoulder, he realized Sticks was a pretty silly name for a drummer. Regardless, he was proud that Rebekah had chosen Sticks to be her name as well.

“Are you still with us, Sticks?” Brian asked.

“Yeah,” he said, surprised by how raw his voice sounded around the tightness in his throat.

It rattled him that even after all this time his mother could still get to him. She’d probably died long ago, and he was sure the world was a better place without her. He refused to give her another thought today. At least he’d
try
not to think of her. Or wonder if she’d be happy for him.

“Let’s get you married off then,” Brian said. He placed a hand between Eric’s shoulder blades and gave him a shove toward the church. It was the only prodding Eric needed. “You
were
slated to get married next.”

“I
was
? Since when?” Eric said.

“You caught Myrna’s garter, remember?”

Eric chuckled. He’d completely forgotten about that. “I still have it,” he said. “I saved it for luck. It’s in the glovebox of the Corvette. I was going to hang it from the rearview mirror when I got it fixed, but I forgot.”

“Maybe Rebekah should wear it today,” Brian suggested. “It could become a Sinners tradition.”

“One lucky garter coming up,” Jace said and trotted back toward Eric’s car.

Inside the church, Eric was shown to a small room behind the altar so he could change from his jeans into his tuxedo pants. He kind of liked that he was stuck wearing his Converse. He still wasn’t sure about wearing Hanes under Armani, but he had little choice. Unless he went bare-chested under his tux. He scratched that idea as soon as it occurred to him.

He hadn’t seen any sign of Rebekah as he’d walked through the welcoming church, but he had noticed that the bouquets of artificial flowers on the ends of the pews were bright pink and didn’t match the golden yellow roses on the big candelabras near the altar. Considering that the lady Sinners had had less than two hours to pull it together, they’d done an amazing job of giving Rebekah a real wedding. He figured Jess owed him one after he’d gone to jail for her proposal to Sed, but he’d have to think of something nice to repay Myrna and Aggie for helping out.

The door opened
, and Rebekah’s father poked his head into the room. He was dressed in full ceremonial garb, which made Eric even more nervous, but the pudgy balding man smiled a welcome and walked in, closing the door behind him. He sat beside Eric on the bench and clasped his hands between his knees.

“I figured I’d have more time to prepare my talk,”
Father Blake said.

Eric glanced at him, his stomach churning with nerves. He wanted this man’s respect, but wasn’t sure how to earn it.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Eric said.

“But I do. That’s my little girl you’re marrying.”

Eric steeled himself for the barrage of criticism that was sure to follow.

“For most fathers, letting go of a daughter so she can offer her love to a man is probably one of the hardest things he’ll ever do, but after watching my little girl get so sick and lose all her hair and almost die,
this
is easy.”

“If she gets sick again, I’ll be there for her,” Eric promised.

Father Blake smiled warmly. “I know that, son.”

Son…
All the air evacuated the little overwarm room.

Father Blake
patted Eric’s back and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “A lot of people will be there for her if she gets sick again. What I ask of you is that you’re there for her when the sink gets clogged or she burns the eggs or her car won’t start.”

Eric chuckled. “She’d be better at getting the car started than I would, but I’ve got the eggs covered.”

“That’s not what I mean. You don’t need to be there to fix everything for her. Just be there for her. And love her. Even when she doesn’t seem to need a reminder of how you feel, she does. Don’t forget to tell her. Show her. Not only when her world comes crashing down, but when it really matters most. Every day.”

“That will be absolutely no problem at all,” Eric said
without pausing between words.

“Good. If you forget, I’ll be sure to remind you none to
o gently.”

“I won’t forget. Your daughter—
Rebekah
—she’s my everything. My
everything
.”

Smiling,
Father Blake searched Eric’s eyes and then after a long moment, he cleared his throat. “Uh, we don’t need to have a sex talk, do we?”

Eric’s face went numb as the blood drained from his head.
“Uh, no, sir.” He shook his head emphatically.

“Good.
Because that would be awkward.” Father Blake laughed.

Awkward?
Uh, yeah. Just a little.

“I also wanted to ask if you were overly attached to the wedding bands you bought for the ceremony.”

“Wedding bands?” Eric shot to his feet. “Crap! We forgot to get wedding bands.”

“Good
.” Father Blake said. He fumbled in a pocket in his robe.

“Good?” Would they have to call off the wedding? Was that what
Rebekah’s father thought was good about forgetting something so important? Had he changed his mind? Did he not really want to marry them? Rebekah would be crushed. So crushed she’d probably call the whole thing off.

“Sit down, Eric.”

Eric sat. Partially because his knees were weak, partially because he was slightly terrified to do anything that would make this man dislike him. Father Blake pulled his hand out of his pocket and opened it to show Eric two silver rings resting on his palm.