The Rockers' Babies Page 16
“No, stupid. Five bucks. No way am I wasting five hundred on your ass. I love you, little bro, but Angel would kick my ass.”
“She spends that much on shoes, man,” Jesse scoffed. “Before she married you, my credit card statements were three pages of shoe stores alone.”
“Only three pages?” Drake grinned. “She really likes shoes. And I’m really weak when it comes to seeing her in them and nothing else. So she can bleed the bank dry buying all the damn shoes she wants.”
Emmie
I awoke before dawn, knowing that I had a million and one things to do so that Harper and Shane wouldn’t have to worry about them.
The wedding planner that I had hired to attempt to make my life a little easier planning the wedding was already waiting for me at Swiss Park Banquet Center. When we had been looking for venues for the wedding, Harper had fallen in love with the garden and gazebo outside. A team of thirty was already getting the white chairs set up, as well as the flowers and arbor in front of the gazebo.
Once I was sure everything was the way Harper had said she wanted it, I headed inside to the banquet hall to check on the tables and decorations. I was fighting my nausea, but I wasn’t going to let it stop me from making this the best day of Shane’s and Harper’s life.
It took three hours for me to get everything just right. Once the cake was in place I headed for the rooms that we were using to get ready for the wedding. It was nearly noon and I was expecting the girls to arrive before the guys. The limo should have already picked them up about an hour ago, but with traffic they should be arriving any time now.
“Momma!”
I turned at the sound of Mia calling my name. She was holding Lana’s hand as they walked toward me. I crouched down to give my baby some sugar before straightening to face Lana. When I saw her frown I knew something was wrong. “What?” I demanded.
“Harper’s stepdad just called me. Cecil said that the bitch twins have found out where the wedding is and most likely will crash the party.” She rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly, looking as stressed as I suddenly felt.
When Harper had given me the list of guests to invite she had told me that under no circumstances were her mother, father, or stepsister to be invited. Harper didn’t even talk to her mother or stepsister anymore. Her father only called once in a blue moon. All caused her trouble and heartache, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let them ruin Harper’s day.
“Okay, I’ll deal with it,” I assured her. “Where is Harper?”
“She’s getting her hair done. The stylist is taking good care of her, don’t worry.” Lana offered her hand to Mia. “Let’s go, brat.”
“I’m not the brat, Aunt Lana. You are.”
“You’re as sassy as your momma. I should swat your butt.”
“No way!” Mia giggled when Lana took a mock step toward her. “I’ll tell Uncle Drake!”
“Uncle Drake has to put up with me more than he does you. He would so pick my side.”
“I’m his favorite.” Mia wiggled her eye brows in a way I had seen Nik teaching her lately and I couldn’t help but grin as I watched them walk away.
When they were out of sight my grin fell away and I pulled my cell out. Security was already tight. The death threats from crazy female fans had been coming in higher counts this last week. Harper’s safety as well as the need to keep the press out had made things extremely difficult. Everyone from the caterers to the florist had all needed to pass three security checkpoints to get into the building.
“No one gets in without an invitation and photo ID,” I told the head of the security team we had hired. “If you suspect anything from anyone, I don’t care if it’s the freaking minister, you call me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered without hesitation.
An hour later the guys arrived. Nik found me in the reception room going over last minute details with the photographer, as well as the caterer. Harper was going to take the shots the photographer did and use them for her magazine as an exclusive on the wedding. Her boss nearly pissed his pants when she promised him a front cover with her in her wedding dress with Shane holding her and the three other band members standing behind them.
“You look tired.” Nik wrapped his arms around me, lowering his head for a kiss. “Have you eaten anything yet?”
“Some fruit salad,” I assured him, holding on tight for a little longer. “So… I found out something.” He raised a brow and I smiled. “Looks like this baby is going to be a lot like me. The smell of bacon made me throw up.”
His lips twitched. “So you won’t be wanting bacon ice cream sundaes or bacon smoothies? Or bacon and peanut butter sandwiches?”
My stomach roiled at just the thought of those things. “Please stop.”
“Sorry, baby girl.” He brushed a tender kiss over my lips then stepped back. “I hate bothering you, but Shane is about to lose his shit. He’s been a basket case since he got out of bed. You think Drake was bad? He’s got nothing on Shane now.”
I frowned. “What? What’s wrong? What did you guys do to him last night?”
“Hey.” Nik raised his hands as if to ward me off when I took a step in his direction. “We didn’t do squat. He was fine when he went to bed last night… Or really this morning. It was nearly three when he finally went to sleep. Then he woke up this morning and… Just go talk to him, baby. Please?”
Muttering a curse I followed Nik to the opposite side of the building where the guys were all supposed to get dressed. I walked in to find Drake and Jesse already half dressed in their tuxedos, but Shane was walking around in basketball shorts and a T-shirt. He was pale as death, his eyes bloodshot, and I was sure he hadn’t gotten any sleep at all.
“Talk to me,” I commanded, grabbing his arms and making him stop his frantic pacing. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“What?” He looked startled by my question. “No! I’m fucking ready to make that woman my wife.”
“Then what’s the matter?” I kept my voice low, calm. “I can’t take care of whatever is wrong if you don’t tell me, Shane.”
“I did something stupid. I think I messed up big.”
“What?” Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing to turn and face him. I swallowed hard, terrified of the answer to the next question that I had no choice but to ask. “What did you do?”