Defenseless (Salvation, #5)(50)

Before he can respond, the music pipes up. I take a moment to soak it all in. The sun is starting to set behind the orchard. There are white chairs that line both sides of a makeshift aisle, their backs wrapped with lavender bows. The trees behind the pergola are filled with tiny white twinkling lights. Every detail was thought out, but before I can get too deep, Jackson and Mark emerge at the front.

I can’t see anything but him. It’s as if the entire wedding fades and all I can focus on is Mark. His blonde hair is pushed back, and his green eyes penetrate through me. No one exists but us. Mark’s broad shoulders stretch every inch of his tuxedo, showing all his strength. The jacket tapers at his waist to show off his trim frame. He’s positively sinful. The grin that paints his face tells me he can read my thoughts. He winks as the music switches to Pachelbel’s Canon in D.

This is the moment I love most about weddings. The bride entering and seeing the man she loves. I may not have been the Barbie and princess little girl, but a wedding I dreamt of. I imagined it in my head. With my parents being the epitome of love and devotion, always kissing, touching, and telling each other how much they loved one another. Dominic and I thought they were gross, but now I appreciate the gift they gave us. I won’t settle for less.

I realize the emotions stirring in me are dangerous. For me to want this, to wish it were me. Even to entertain the notion of gazing at Mark with anything close to what I feel now is terrifying. Maybe I could trust him. Maybe we could find ourselves in this same situation.

Catherine continues down the aisle. She doesn’t look at anything other than Jackson. I turn back to see Mark’s eyes meet mine, and hope blooms deep in my heart.

One day.

The ceremony is exactly as I imagined—timeless. They say their vows, tears flow, and you can see the love they share. The sunset casts its blessing in pinks, oranges, and reds throughout the sky overhead. We move into the huge white tent set up on the other side of the vineyard. The tables are decorated with centerpieces of various glass candlestick holders surrounding tall vine-wrapped willow branches.

Being the date of the best man puts me at the wedding party table. However, thanks to Catherine’s thoughtfulness, I know everyone. Ashton, Gretchen, and Aaron all make me feel like a lifelong friend. Not that I can’t handle being in uncomfortable situations, but it’s nice feeling like I fit in.

Mark is with the bride and groom taking pictures, so I head to the bar.

“A glass of chardonnay please.” I smile as Jackson and Catherine enter the tent. Their smiles are electric. Their love is palpable.

“Having a good time?” Mark bumps my hip and hands me a flute. “Don’t worry, it’s safe to drink here.”

“How do I know you didn’t slip me something?”

“I don’t have to drug you to sleep with me. You know you can’t resist me.”

“Is that so?”

“I rev your engine, baby. I speak your language. I’m your weapon of choice.”

“Oh, Jesus. You need a shrink.” I laugh and take a sip.

I lean against him. The urge to be close is stronger than I can fight. He makes me happy just to be around him.

“They’re really happy together,” he muses.

“You mentioned they didn’t have it easy.” I never pressed for more answers. It kind of seems fitting to talk about them now.

Mark takes a swig of his beer. Only he would drink beer at a vineyard. “Yeah, Jackson has a history of keeping secrets to himself. He’s a weird guy. We’ve been friends for a long time, but even I don’t understand his thought process. The thing about secrets,” he pauses to cast me a look. “Is they eventually become uncovered. No matter how hard we try, they don’t stay buried forever.”

My heart races at his words. My life is a stack of carefully constructed secrets. If one were to get pulled out, everything would fall. People—colleagues, friends, loved ones—would all be in danger. I would literally have to disappear, because I would be killed. The more time I spend around Mark, the more exposed I become.

“Hopefully, people don’t dig. Sometimes it’s the thirst for knowledge that ends up making things worse.” I plead in my own way that he’ll understand.

Mark mulls over my words, but the intensity doesn’t ebb. “The truth, though, can’t be denied.”

“Sometimes the lie is safer than the truth.”

“I’ll protect you. Do you believe that?”

“Mark.” I can barely speak. I know he wants to think he can, but there are some things even he can’t stop. Instead of letting me finish, he takes me into his arms.

“I can live with your lies, Charlie. As long as you don’t lie to me.”

“I won’t always have a choice. If I go back to the agency, my life isn’t always my own.”

This has always been the struggle I’ve faced. Loving someone, letting them into my life, doesn’t provide them with any promises. I’ll do whatever my country needs me to do. I’ll go where I have to go and use those around me to get information—at any cost.

Mark takes my drink and sets it on the bar. “Your life is always your own. It’s what you choose that makes it someone else’s. Come.” He puts his hand out. “We have people to make jealous.” His smile is inviting, and my hand slips right into his. “Right after I give my speech. You ready for epic?”