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They heldthe wedding reception on the castle’s enormous grounds, where a mini city of tents, lights, and tables reigned. A good number of guests were fellow Hollywood people, but everyone Nate and Kris cared about was there, too: their families, including Marty, who had stopped dicking around after Nate hit it big and was now one of the most sought-after agents in the biz; Kris’s study abroad friends from Shanghai; MentHer staff with whom Kris had particularly bonded over the years; Risa, the Carreras’ retired L.A. housekeeper, who ran a thriving banana bread business after Nate shouted her out on social. At age sixty-eight, she was the Internet’s favorite baking grandma. Nate’s closest pre-Hollywood friends were in attendance as well, including his best man Elijah and groomsman Will, who’d lent Nate his boat all those summers ago. The boat now belonged to Nate and Kris—Nate had bought it from Will as a five-year dating anniversary present for Kris. He could’ve bought any number of bigger, newer boats, but none of them held the same sentimental value.
Nate also spotted Teague and his family, with whom he’d spent quite a few holidays by now, given how serious Teague and Skylar were. He wouldn’t be surprised if Teague popped the question soon; though Nate would never admit it out loud, he could have a worse brother-in-law than a wave-surfing, plane-flying, computer-hacking film animator.
He’d still break Teague’s face if he hurt Skylar, though.
Teague’s father and Linda had split up two years ago, citing “irreconcilable differences.” Nate wasn’t sure if Steven Collins ever found out about Linda’s indiscretion while they were dating, as neither he nor Roger had clued him in (no one wanted to open that can of worms), but Steven looked so happy with his new girlfriend it didn’t matter.
The reception ran into the early hours of the morning. It was a wild, exultant affair, filled with the expected (Courtney leading a conga line; Kris’s friend Luke Peterson from Shanghai, whom she always complained about for being so “uncouth”, burping out the alphabet to the fascination and disgust of other guests) and the unexpected (Scott West dancing with Susan, the MentHer director; Nate’s father and his girlfriend Diana getting down to the latest Cardi B. hit with surprising skill) but nothing shocked Nate more than the scene he stumbled on when he tried to sneak a private moment with his wife.
Wife.
The word sent all sorts of emotions swirling through his body. When he’d seen Kris walk down that aisle, resplendent and beaming and—dare he say it—teary-eyed, he’d been afraid he would break down himself.
Luckily, he’d spared himself the embarrassment and kept it together throughout the ceremony, the receiving line, the best man and maid of honor toasts, the cake cutting…
Jesus, weddings werelong.
As much as Nate appreciated his friends’ and family’s well wishes, he wanted to be alone with his wife. Not to spoil their wedding night, because he wasn’t an asshole, but because he needed a breather from all the people and a moment to connect with Kris.
Ironic how it was their wedding day and yet they’d had less than five minutes alone together so far.
“Where are we going?” Kris laughed as he tugged her closer to the castle, where there were plenty of shrubberies and marble statues to get lost in.
He’d have opted for a room in the castle itself, except there were a zillion stairs leading to the back entrance and the building was a maze.
No one had time for that.
“Wherever Janet can’t find us,” Nate said, naming their highly organized, highly scary wedding planner.
He spotted the pursed-lipped woman out of the corner of his eye and quickened his pace, pulling Kris around the corner just before Janet’s eyes homed in on them.
Kris landed against his chest, and he tightened his arms around her. She glowed beneath in the moonlight, her silk reception dress pouring over her curves like cream, and Nate marveled for the millionth time how lucky he was to have her by his side.
“Hey there, Mrs. Reynolds,” he said, his mouth curling up into a satisfied grin.
She smirked, no doubt spotting the devilish glint in his eyes. “Mr. Reynolds, are you trying to seduce me at our wedding reception? Next to—” She glanced at the statue towering next to them. “A statue of Cupid? Well-played.”
He hadn’t noticed Cupid hovering there like a creeper until now, but whaddaya know, even the gods and castle grounds layout were on his side.
“Of course not.” Nate feigned innocence. “I—”
A sound to their left interrupted him.
Nate’s eyebrows shot up to the sky when Olivia and Sammy tumbled out from the shrubbery on the other side of Cupid, clothes rumpled, hair mussed, and—was that a hickey on Sammy’s neck?
Damn. Go, Sammy.
Nate didn’t know too much about the pair’s backstory, but he did know that they used to date in Shanghai, that they’d broken up the summer after returning to the States, and that they’d hated each other ever since. Nate had witnessed their animosity firsthand several times.
Animosity and sexual tension,he amended.
Though judging by the state of their clothing and their deer-in-headlights expressions when they saw Nate and Kris, that tension had just found a release valve.
“Hello,” Kris said, her voice suspiciously bland. “Nice night for a stroll.”
It was fascinating, watching Olivia and Sammy turn the color of a fire hydrant at the same time.
