“My parents don’t even send me birthday cards anymore. You think they’re going to attend their only daughter’s wedding? Highly doubtful.”
My heart plummets when the truth comes out at last. Indie has been pushing off on setting a wedding date because of her horrid parents.
“We don’t need your parents there,” I reply through clenched teeth. “Truth be told, I don’t even want them there.”
“Who will walk me down the aisle?” she sobs, and the pain on her face cuts right through me. In a flash, I kick all the balls out of my way and pull her into my arms.
She presses her face into my chest as her body trembles against me. I haven’t seen her get emotional about her parents in a long time. I’m such a prat for not realising this is what has been bothering her.
“Any of my brothers would love to walk you down the aisle. You can take your pick.” I run my hand down the back of her neck and she sags into me a bit. “I know my dad would be honoured, Specs. Hell, I’ll walk you down the aisle myself if you’ll let me.”
“I’m sorry, Camden,” she mumbles against my shirt before looking up at me, her brown eyes full of pain and embarrassment. “This is so stupid. I shouldn’t care about this, but I do. I don’t want to be the bride everyone feels sorry for because there’s only one friend on her side of the church.”
“So let’s get married alone!” I reply, my voice rising in pitch.
She scoffs and shoves me in the chest. “Be serious. Your family would murder you.”
“I don’t give a toss!” I tilt her chin up so she looks me in the eyes and sees how serious I am. “I care about you and me. My family will get over it. Most of them at least. Tanner will probably weep for a few weeks, but he’ll be fine.”
Indie smiles at the image and shakes her head from side-to-side. “We can’t possibly elope, can we?” she asks, her voice sounding mildly hopeful.
“We can do whatever we want!” I exclaim, tossing my hands out wide. “Let’s do it this weekend. We’re both off, which basically never happens in the world of football. It’s a sign, Specs. It’s meant to be.”
Indie bites her lip and adjusts her glasses, clearly thinking through all the details like the sexy nerdling she is. “Are you completely sure you’re okay with it just being us? I don’t want you to do this because of what the players are saying, and I don’t want you to have regrets.”
“I’m one hundred percent sure I want to marry you this weekend…Just us,” I add, stepping in and hugging her to me again. I press my forehead to hers and whisper, “Let’s go make those cocky bastards shut their arrogant mouths.”
Two
Cocky Bagpiper
Indie
“The piper’s ready for ye!” the wedding planner states in a thick Scottish accent as I stare at myself in the mirror of the hotel lobby in Gretna Green, Scotland.
I’m wearing a simple pleated, strapless wedding dress. The ivory colour compliments my fair skin, and the skirt is just full enough to make it feel like a wedding dress. The sweetheart neckline gives it a sexier feel while the row of buttons up the back adds a touch of elegance. No accessories and definitely no glasses. I can’t wait for Camden to see me.
We only had three days to prepare everything, and doing it all without his family finding out was incredibly difficult. Those five Harris siblings are balls-deep in each other’s lives. His sister called three times when we were on the train yesterday. Even my best friend, Belle, nearly figured things out when she caught me shopping in our old neighbourhood in East London a couple days ago. It’s been a whirlwind!
But Cam has always loved a challenge.
Now we’re here, at the Gardens Hotel in Gretna Green—a village in southern Scotland, over the border of England. It’s famous for runaway weddings, dating back to the 1800s. Young lovers would cross the border to defy their families and get married in secret, which is perfect for what Cam and I are doing.
The Harris family is going to flip when they find out what we’ve done, but I couldn’t be happier right now. From the exciting train ride, to arriving at the station, to a limo escort, everything has clicked into place. The wedding planner took care of all the details, including separate hotel rooms for the night before. It was important to me to have some traditional aspects in our elopement. I didn’t want to lose all the elements of a normal wedding just because it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.
At our romantic dinner the night before, I swear you couldn’t wipe the smiles off our faces because we knew what we were about to do. Not even rain on my wedding day will bring me down.
I move through the lobby to the rear exit that leads to a stunning garden filled with perfectly manicured hedges and a giant Japanese red maple tree. Drops of rain glisten on the petals of purple heather blooms that head toward a small pond where Camden awaits.
“Whenever yer ready,” the wedding planner says, handing me an open umbrella. “Good luck.”
She moves back as I tuck myself underneath and step out into the light mist. An elderly man strides up from behind her, wearing a traditional Scottish kilt and carrying enormous bagpipes in his arms.
He smiles a crooked-tooth smile and says in his thick accent, “They say rain on yer wedding day means good luck for fertility.” He shoots me a lewd wink and I can’t help but laugh.
“That’s good to know.”
“Are ye ready, lass?” he asks, putting the reed of his instrument in his mouth.
I clutch my bouquet of pink roses and give him a quick nod. “Completely ready.”
And just like that, I’m walking through a beautiful—albeit wet—Scottish garden with a traditional Scottish bagpiper leading me down the aisle.
When I carefully cross over a stunning, red-railing arched bridge, I finally see my future husband standing tall and proud under the rustic pagoda.
Camden is, of course, kitted out in a kilt himself. It was a bit of a shock when he said he wanted to wear one. But when the wedding planner showed him the tartan for the Harris name and he nearly wept with joy, I couldn’t say no.
God, he actually looks sexy. The knee-high socks are exactly like the ones he wears on the football pitch, and the suit jacket is tailored to his build perfectly. What can I say? I like my man in a skirt!
My focus on him is diverted when the bagpiper in front of me trips over a stone. He belts out a cringe-worthy, nasally note as he tumbles to the ground, landing hard on his elbow. Without pause, I rush over to him and drop my umbrella on the ground.
“Are you all right?” I ask, squinting through the rain and placing my free hand on his ankle.
The Scotsman’s eyes go wide. “Yer hair, lass. Yer dress!” He nearly drops the bagpipes as he grabs the umbrella to hold over my head from his position on the ground.
“It’s fine,” I state, pushing my long red hair back behind my shoulders. The hairdresser spent hours taming my mane into perfectly smooth tendrils, but I knew it would never last as soon as I saw the rain. Curly hair problems. “Are you hurt, though? It looked like you might have twisted your ankle. Stay still while I have a look.”
His eyes are nearly hidden amongst the crinkles that take over his entire face. “Aye, I’m right as rain. Just an old geezer who cannae watch where he’s walking.” He wipes away the mud on his knee and smiles apologetically.
I smile and shake my head. “It must be difficult with that thing strapped to your front.”
He nods and hands the umbrella back to me so he can stand. With great effort, he pushes up off the ground and readjusts the bagpipes over his chest. “Let’s get ye married, aye? Or perhaps ye want tae ditch this wee lad and run away with me instead? I promise, I’m more agile than I look.”
I erupt into laughter as the cocky bagpiper waggles his brows at me suggestively.