PRINCE CHARMING: A Stepbrother Secret Baby Romance(52)
Quincy laid his hand on Pascal’s shoulder. “I know, but sadly she’s the logical choice. I’ll be fine, really. Just have to learn to accept the hand I was dealt, right?”
“Sir, if you talked to your father—”
“Really. I’ll be fine, but I appreciate your concern, as always. Now then, am I presentable or do you need to tweak me some more?”
He saw the question in Pascal’s eyes and the worry as he sighed. Quincy begged him with his eyes to let it go, and his friend bowed his head. “You are ready, sir. They will be waiting for you downstairs, as will your father.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
On his way through the corridor, his thoughts returned to Olivia getting ready with Melinda in her room. He wanted to talk to her before he escorted her down the aisle, but he wasn’t going to get that chance, apparently. They needed to talk, and it was killing him to see her look at him the way she had. Not cold, exactly, but she’d put up a wall to keep herself from getting hurt. Quincy hated that he’d done that to her. He loved the damn woman, and he couldn’t be with her.
He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t.
“Ah, Son, you look classy,” Lamont said as he paced back and forth in the foyer.
“As do you, Dad. But you look a bit nervous,” he said and smiled, sincerely happy for his dad and laughing at his nervousness. “You need a drink before the ceremony?”
“I never thought I’d get married again,” he admitted.
“I’m happy for you, Dad, really.”
Lamont smiled. “Me too, Son. I was worried what your mother would think, but then I heard her yell at me last night in my dreams.”
“She tell you to stop being a fool and follow your heart?”
Lamont laughed. “Just like always. Right then, let’s get going. Don’t want to be late. Pretty sure Melinda would not like that.” They walked to the waiting car, and Quincy felt his chest tighten at the thought of being so close to Olivia again. He needed one moment alone with her, just five minutes so he could tell her one last time how he felt.
***
Melinda was hidden behind a partition set up on the beach while the guests for the wedding—pretty much the entire isle—found their seats to watch the royal wedding of their beloved king to his new queen. Olivia was to wait at the end of the aisle and greet guests as they entered. It would have been fine except for one thing. Quincy stood by her side, greeting guests as well.
“Thank you for coming,” he said, shaking the hands of an elderly couple. He glanced over, and she hurriedly looked away. “Are you going to say anything to me at all?”
“I have nothing to say at the moment.” Except I want to take you somewhere private and kiss you and tell you I’m pregnant with our child. “We’re supposed to be here for our parents, so I’m here.”
“Please, Olivia. Let me talk to my father. I need to find a way to make this work.”
No, stop saying things like that. Her gut clenched, and she almost let her hand go to the baby but stopped just in time. “I can’t let you do that to your father, or to your kingdom, Quincy. We are doing what we have to do.”
His face scrunched in annoyance and anger and something else she couldn’t place, but there wasn’t time for this. The wedding was happening in a few minutes, and after that, the reception. Then, tomorrow morning, she’d be on a flight back to Nebraska, and this would be a wonderful dream she would get to remember every time she looked at their son or daughter.
“Just let it go, Quincy. Time to do our duties, and then we’re finished,” she said and hoped he didn’t hear the longing in her voice or the hurt underneath that. From the look he shot her, she’d failed miserably.
“Prince Quincy, Princess Olivia, we are ready to begin,” the wedding planner said as she hurried to them. “When the music starts, you will walk down the aisle and part and everything else has been gone over, yes?”
They nodded, and the wedding planner clapped her hands and pointed them to the end of the aisle. Olivia gripped her bouquet tightly and reluctantly slipped her hand into the crook of Quincy’s arm, hating the way that one touch immediately set her nerves on fire. Everything in her said to pull him over by his tux and kiss him hard and deep, but the music started, and they walked forward down the aisle.
“Olivia, please,” he whispered to her.
“Stop it. This is not the time.”
“Are you going to give me the time?”
“When? You’ve been busy with your future wife,” she snapped and took a deep breath to calm herself. They were supposed to be smiling, not arguing as they walked down the aisle.
“I’m telling you, I’m going to try and make this work.”
“No. It will ruin you, and I can’t live with that.” They neared the end of the aisle. “Stop, Quincy please, just… just let me go. I can’t do this.” Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but with her smile, everyone probably thought they were happy tears for her mother. When they reached Lamont and the priest, they separated, though he tried to hang on to her a moment longer.
The music changed, and Olivia forced her gaze away from Quincy’s pained expression to her mom standing at the end of the aisle. The guests stood, and Melinda’s smile brightened her face, but she only had eyes for one person—Lamont. He shifted and cleared his throat as she made her way down the aisle to gasps and happy whispers of the guests smiling at her dress. Olivia was genuinely able to smile at the sight of her happiness and knew from now on, her mom was going to be living the life she’d always wanted.