AVERY (The Corbin Brothers Book 2) by Lexie Ray

I mumbled.
    "As I was saying, do you, Avery Corbin, take Paisley Summers to be your wife?"
    Had we already passed the part of the ceremony where people could object to this union? If so, why hadn't anyone done so? Would I have been able to if I'd been paying attention?
    There was nothing left to do but say, "I do."
    Paisley beamed at me, and repeated the same words when the minister asked her about whether she was ready to be my wife. She seemed a lot more sure of it than I had.
    The minister had more words to wrap up everything -- platitudes about love and fidelity and faith -- and I turned back to Paisley.
    "Why didn't you wear a white dress?" I asked quietly.
    She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Did you want me to?"
    "No, I mean, I don't care -- you can wear whatever you want." I blinked rapidly, not sure if I had fallen into a hole or was digging myself deeper. "I was just wondering about the color."
    Paisley leered. "White's a little too virginal for me, don't you agree?"
    She actually made me blush at my own wedding. "Jesus, Paisley."
    "Oh, stop," she whispered, her shoulders shaking from repressed laughter. "I wore green because that's what color I want the grass to be. Maybe our wedding will bring rain."
    That was pure superstition, but I'd heard even the congregation at the church had been praying for it to pour each Sunday. There was nothing people could do to change the weather except wait and hope.
    "You may now kiss the bride," the minister said, cutting across my thoughts once more.
    Was this the moment I could run for it? Would the touching of our lips seal this contract? Even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew it was ludicrous. After the ceremony, we would be filling out and signing the real contracts -- marriage licenses and the stipulations for merging our family's ranches. There was so much damn work to do, and this was only the beginning.
    Paisley lifted her face up to mine expectantly and I obliged with a peck on her lips.
    "Oh, I think you can do better than that," she said loudly, eliciting whoops and laughter from the guests behind us.
    I flushed even deeper before kissing her again, letting my mouth linger against hers. Everyone applauded, and the guitarist struck up that exact same song for us to walk out to.
    "Don't you like any other songs?" I asked her, the reality of the wedding not yet sinking in.
    "I've always sort of considered this one as ours," she said with a shrug. "Do you always have to drink whiskey to keep it up?"
    I blinked. "Excuse me?"
    "I know you're drunk," she said, continuing to wave and smile even though those words weren't anything to wave and smile about. "I get that this isn't what you want. But could you at least try and scrounge up some respect for me?"
    Paisley had been nothing but a doll for the duration of our time together -- sweet and mindless and unrelenting in her affections. What was this new attitude she had? Where had she been hiding it?
    "This is my wedding, too," I said. “This is what I want to do to enjoy it.”
    “Need alcohol to enjoy life events?” Her words were so angry, but that smile was still firmly in place. “Sex, too?”
    “You’re the one who suggested we wait until our wedding night,” I said, mystified as to how she had such a good poker face. “Is that what this is about? That we haven’t had sex since that night?” Because we hadn’t, not that I was lusting over Paisley, especially not now.
    “This is about you being drunk for your own wedding,” she said. Out of sight of the crowd, she slipped her hand from my arm and looked up at me. “Do you hate me?”
    “No, I don’t hate you.”
    “Then act happy,” she said. “You looked terrified up there. Please don’t embarrass me.”
    “I’m not doing anything on purpose,” I assured her. “It’s … natural for a person to be nervous ahead of their wedding.”
    “Says who?”
    “Says, um, Emmett.”
    “What does Emmett know about it?”
    “That’s what I