The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient #2)(84)
But now, he didn’t care if he was a hero or a coward. All he wanted was to be Esme’s.
When he checked his watch, he was dismayed to see it was 10:22 A.M. He’d been wasting time with an emotional episode—him, emotional—and the wedding started in thirty-eight minutes. He was going to be late, especially because it was impossible to find parking in San Francisco.
For a car.
A motorcycle, however …
He swiped his sleeve across his face, pulled his helmet back on, revved the engine, and exploded onto the streets. Central Expressway W, 85N, 101N. He’d never ridden a motorcycle on the freeway, and it was terrifying and exhilarating. There were no layers between him and the cars speeding at seventy, eighty, ninety miles an hour.
Most alive when you might die, indeed. He would have attempted a hundred miles per hour just for the hell of it, but he didn’t want to willfully push himself into that 0.07 percent.
Once he reached the long stretch of the trip, he mentally tackled the problem at hand: He had a wedding to stop.
And there was only one thing that would make Esme change her mind. Only one thing she wanted to hear.
Three small words.
And the last time he’d tried to say them, he’d almost gotten himself into a car accident. He might as well practice now since he was living on the edge.
“I …” He tried to get the next word out, but his mind and body stubbornly resisted. Ten years of training were difficult to undo in such a short period of time. He forced the word out. “Love.”
His heart jumped and started sprinting as fast as the motorcycle.
“I. Love.” He took a heavy breath and plowed ahead with determination. “I love. I love. I love. I love, I love, I love.” The wind stole most of the sound, but he still felt ridiculous talking to himself.
Until he added the last word.
“Esme.” Everything softened inside of him. “I love Esme.”
That felt good. That felt right.
He hoped he wasn’t too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The minute hand on the clock ticked onto the six. 10:30 A.M. and still no Kh?i.
Esme hugged her hands over her stomach and stared at her reflection again. The bride in the mirror looked sophisticated and beautiful—a ten-thousand-dollar Vera Wang dress would do that to anyone—and pale as death.
Kh?i wasn’t going to stop the wedding. She had to marry his brother.
She’d told herself a thousand times he wouldn’t come, and yet, the reality of it still crushed her like a mountain. Tears threatened to spill and ruin her makeup, and she quickly blinked them away. She told herself to be happy. Any other girl back home would say this was a dream come true. Handsome husband, designer gown, city hall, extravagant floral bouquets, tons of guests, and on top of all that, she and her family would be able to stay. They’d have that new shiny life they’d hardly dared to hope for. She could follow her dreams and be a proper role model for her daughter.
But it was the wrong handsome husband. Quan was great, but he wasn’t Kh?i. He hadn’t rushed to see her at the doctor’s office or carried her to the car afterward. He hadn’t kissed her like she was everything. He didn’t reserve his best smiles for her only.
Without Kh?i, this wedding felt like a farce, but she was going to go through with it anyway. She’d told Quan everything, laid her secrets and flaws bare, and he still wanted her to have this opportunity. The government didn’t care about her, the schools didn’t, the scholarship organizations didn’t, but this one person did, and sometimes one person could make a world of difference. She was going to do everything in her power to make sure he didn’t regret helping her. She was going to make a difference to this world.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, feeling determination burn deep within. She wasn’t impressive in any way you could see or measure, but she had that fire. She felt it. That was her worth. That was her value. She would fight for her loved ones. And she would fight for herself. Because she mattered. The fire inside of her mattered. It could achieve and accomplish. People might look down on her, but she was making her way with as much integrity as she could with limited options. The woman in the mirror wore a wedding gown and high heels, but her eyes shone with the confidence and drive of a warrior.
If that wasn’t classy, she didn’t know what was.
“Má.”
Esme turned away from the mirror right as a small body launched itself at her. Little arms wrapped around her waist, and her heart burst with incandescence. She hefted her girl up and hugged her tight, pressing their cheeks together like she always did, and that enormous love bloomed inside of her. Baby smell, baby-soft skin, little body—well, not as little now.
“Here my girl is.”
A little face snuggled close, and over her girl’s shoulder, Esme saw her mom and grandma walk into the room.
They’d just arrived from Vi?t Nam yesterday and had to be exhausted and jet-lagged, but they’d both dressed in their fanciest áo dài and were grinning from ear to ear with excitement. Her mom even wore makeup. Esme had never seen her so beautiful, and suddenly, she was glad Quan had decided to have such an extravagant wedding. Weddings were as much for families as they were for the bride and groom, maybe more.
“Already, let your mom go. You’ll ruin her dress,” her mom said as she urged Jade to climb down. Then she hugged Esme tight, and Esme couldn’t help catching the light smell of fish sauce from her mother’s clothes and hair and grinning. Esme had to be half Americanized now if she detected that scent. She didn’t mind it, though.