Catching Texas

My Best Friend

Hey, guys! I'm sorry for the wait. I'm trying to find time for everything and still be able to write. But I haven't forgotten about it. Here's the next chapter!
<3 Kay

Texas

Splashes of golds, burgandys and tones of brown were dotted around the massive hall, mixed with warm touches of oranges and greens. The site of the ceremony was beautiful, in a grandiose sort of way. The plantation was an hour outside of town and built in the early part of the 19th century. Originally, it was used as an opulent home to showcase the overwhelming wealth of some banker and his mail-order bride, now it was the hottest destination for weddings and posh parties. Personally, I would've gone for something smaller and more personal, but hey, it wasn't my wedding. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of movement and had to fight to contain my laughter.

The boys were too busy fidgeting in their suits to pay attention to the couple exchanging vows up on the densely decorated podium, and more than half of the congregation was too busy watching them to keep their eyes on the main focus. I had to admit, it was amusing watching them anxiously scratch or pull at their collars, but I could see the color rising in Tennessee's face and the agitation on Yates'. The chuckles from the guests definitely wasn't helping anything.

"...and with this ring, you promise..."

My focus was in and out as the preacher, a monotoned man of God from Yate's family line, droned on about the sacred promise of marriage, but I tried to listen. Of course, when they weren't playing with their torture devices, Stetson and Knox were making faces and gestures to keep attention on them. They had promised to behave, but I guess for the pair of them, that's exactly what they were doing. I shouldn't have expected much else.

"It is my pleasure to introduce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Yates Draven." They made out on the stoop in front of the old preacher, who stood there stony faced as they couple went at each other's mouths. It was definitely a sight to see. Before they could continue their exploration of each other's tonsils in front of everyone, Mrs. Draven cut in with her smooshed face and her coiffed hair to announce that cocktail hour would begin in ten minutes.

Yay, booze!

Knox

They were playing the cheesiest country music possible as people entered the reception area, which was also dotted all over in the tackiest fall decor possible. Aside from the God-awful suit I was forced to wear, I had been forced to toss out handfuls of maple leaves as I walked toward the ceremony area, listen to some single-toned preacher prattle on about love and fidelity to two of the least loving people in the world, and I wasn't allowed to drink until after all toasts were given. Stetson, however, was three sheets to the wind and wobbling toward our assigned seats as he mumbled incoherently about vows and marriage being a trap.

The process of wedding planning, or watching someone plan one, had been a stressful event. Flowers had littered our apartment for two weeks straight, bolts of cloth for dresses scattered my bedroom every afternoon and there was an endless supply of crappy romantic music on replay so Texas could set up a mix for the upcoming reception. She spent most of her spare time on the phone with caterers and vendors, arguing about the price per plate and cost of delivery, or talking to Donny, her boss, about the six tier Italian creme cake with edible gold accents and imported butters. And if I had to listen to the debate between matching and non matching charger plates and silverware I might possibly have a mental break.

You'd swear Texas was getting married and not Tennessee. In the last few months, I hadn't seen hide nor hair of Tennessee while all of this furious planning was going on. She'd been tucked safely in the cocoon that Yates' money provided her: shopping sprees, spa says, enjoying the finer points of having family money and not having to bust your butt for it. And the whole whole, Texas had busted her ass to take care of everything so the day in question went smoothly, all the whole balancing a new job and helping take care of things at home.

The only upside to being stuck at this festival of torture?

Texas.

She'd been done up from head to toe for the occasion and she looked absolutely breathtaking. It was a huge change from seeing her in boots, jeans and dirty ball caps, but no less alluring. She practically glowed tonight, and I wanted so badly to catch the light.

All of the bridesmaids wore identical colored dresses in different styles, but in my opinion, Texas' was the most flattering. It was a floor length strapless dress that hugged every curve snugly and left my back teeth aching from the sweetness of it. Burgundy silk kissed every inch of her chest, caressing against the smooth golden flesh like whispers in the night. Her thick auburn hair was done in cascading curls down her back with glittering pins pushed in at different points, the sparkle catching under the light. I knew that instead of the death traps every other woman in the bridal party wore, she had a pair of boots on under her dress, covering the pedicure she'd been forced to get. She wore a light brushing of mascara, but refused anything beyond that. Every single time she turned around and caught my eye, my gut clenched and my blood boiled in my veins. By the looks that were cast her way as she walked through the room, I knew I wasn't the only one.

I knew I would have to make my move tonight if I intended to keep her.

And I definitely did.