Chapter Fifty-Seven

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        As promised, the wedding reception was boring and stuffy. For starters, almost all of the guests were over fifty. There was a small group of girls in the corner that I guessed were Gracelynn's friends, but other than that, it was all family friends and acquaintances. Business partners. Other lords and ladies.

        To say that it was intimidating was an understatement.

        At least I had my own set of friends there. Clay and Kylie sat at our table, and then I noticed that they were playing Spot It under the tablecloth. I pointed this out to Grayson, who almost choked on his laughter.

        "I swear, he's still six years old," he muttered. We were dancing to the live band. That might sound exciting, but it was all slow, classical music.

        "What music are we having at our wedding?" I asked.

        He shrugged. "Whatever music you want. Just no country."

        "Oh, thank goodness," I sighed. "I should've asked you that the morning we got married but I forgot in the chaos. I'm so glad you're a normal person."

        "As am I. But yeah, we can have pop, or rock, or whatever, just no country, and it can be as loud and crazy as you want," he said with a grin. 

        "Do you want any songs?" I asked. "Because I still need to put it together for Riley."

        A smirk came over Grayson's face. "Marry me by Bruno Mars."

        "Oh, come on!" I said, certain my face was red.

        "What?" he asked, his eyes sparkling. "It's super common for people to play at weddings."

        "Yeah, but..." I struggled to call him out while not calling him an idiot. "Don't you think it's a little too relevant to our actual wedding?"


        "Jacks, I think it's extremely relevant to our actual wedding."

        I groaned, dropping my forehead against his chest. "Sometimes I think you're the worst."

        "Ah, we both know I'm the best husband ever," he laughed, kissing my cheek.

        "Fine, we can have that one," I sighed. "Only because it looks innocent."

        "That's practically our definition," Grayson said. "Looks innocent." 

        I rolled my eyes and for a while he (thankfully) shut up. Looking around, I saw Gracelynn with her new husband, and I had to admit, she looked genuinely happy. Even if she wasn't totally sure about him yet, it had to be pretty cool to have a wedding of these proportions thrown for you.

        "Hey, Grayson?"

        "Yeah?" he asked.

        Lowering my voice, I whispered, "If you ever get remarried, would your wedding be like this?"

        He grinned. "Come on, Jackie, you know you've spoiled me for all other women."

        "No, for real," I complained, my face burning.

        "Seriously, yes, this is what it would be like," he confessed. "But I really doubt I'll ever marry anyone else."

        "What about your mother? And an heir who isn't Clay's fake child?" I asked.

        Grayson laughed a little before saying, "She can deal with it. I'm not sending someone else through this turmoil. Especially when I wouldn't love them."

        I opened my mouth to ask what he meant, but we were cleared off the dance floor so that Lord and Lady Seymour could have their first dance. We sat back at our table, next to Kylie and Clay, and the dance began.

        I'd always been a sucker for the first dance at a wedding. It's just so beautiful. Even when you don't know the couple all that well, it's still such a magical moment that stuns the whole room into silence. I couldn't help but be a little envious of Gracelynn as well; with that gorgeous dress and a literal ballroom, she had to feel like a princess. Like Cinderella.

        "Grayson?" I murmured, leaning over slightly.

        "Yes, Jackie?" he whispered.

        "Can I ask you a favor?"

        He smiled. "Probably. What is it?"

        "Can our first dance be beautiful and romantic and fairytale-like even though we don't love each other?" I asked, knowing he probably would (and should) say no.

        Instead, he took my hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. "That can be arranged," he said softly, his smile heartwarming.

        Fuzziness swept over my body as I whispered, "Thank you, Grayson, you're the best."

        He winked. "Of course I'm the best, how could you assume anything else?"

        I groaned under my breath, murmuring, "You've been hanging out with Clay too much."

        But Grayson simply laughed, squeezing my hand as the song ended. Again, my heart thudded for an extra beat, clearly enjoying the way he could laugh so wonderfully.

        Maybe my wedding won't be so horrific after all.

        

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