Disclaimers etc. in Part 1.
All this wedding stuff is definitely a chick thing. No man would ever
put together something so expensive and girly -- unless, of course,
there was either a fast car or some nice tail waiting for him at the end
of it. And I suppose the second goes for a wedding.
Jean made me shave and promise not to wear jeans. She picked out my
clothes before she left to get dressed in Jubilee's room, with the other
women. With Marie.
God, she looked exactly the same, and yet so different. I couldn't help
but stare at her as she got out of that truck. No flashy German cars for
Whoa, Logan, where the hell did *that* come from? She hasn't been your
girl in *years* and don't you forget it.
And even when she was my girl, she wasn't really. I knew I'd never be
able to keep her, not with that damn Cajun sniffing around all the time.
Why would she want me -- old enough to be her father and no memory, to
boot -- when she could have someone young and pretty? She deserved
something better. Especially since I was too stupid to realize how good
I had it -- I spent a lot of free time lusting after Jeannie, then, and
that ain't the best way to be in a relationship.
I'm trying to do better now -- be happy with what I got. I love Jean. I
think, anyway. How do you know? I know it's more than just sex -- I feel
like I can relax with her and I enjoy being with her. She never asks me
if I'm interested in other women and she never bugs me when I take off
for a few weeks.
Sometimes I wondered if I'd like it better if she did. Not bug me, but
maybe ask if she could come along? I don't know. I ain't offering,
because that's not my style, but just once would it kill her to do
something I like?
Shit, I've been watching too much Oprah with Jubilee.
I watched as everyone danced, even let Kitty pull me out onto the floor
for a go-round, but mainly I watched Marie.
She looked sad. I hated seeing her look sad. It made my chest hurt, made
it hard for me to breathe. And then Scooter pulled her out onto the
floor, and she was laughing and she looked so young, so beautiful.
Jean was chattering away as I massaged her feet, asking me if I thought
I'd like to have a wedding like this and -- "Hold on a minute, there,
Red. What did you just say?"
She grinned. "I thought that'd get your attention, Logan. You've been
staring off into space for the past half hour."
"Well, you've got my attention now, Jean."
"I can see that," she purred, rubbing her foot in my lap. "Kitty and
Bobby are leaving in a few minutes. What do you say we follow suit when
I stopped myself from doing more than giving her a half-grin, but I
really liked that idea. "Sounds good to me. I can take off these
freakin' ridiculous clothes you bought me." She dressed me up like the
man in black. It was cool, actually, but I couldn't tell her that. I've
got a rep to maintain.
Unfortunately, before the newlyweds left, there were a couple of stupid
traditions that had to be trotted out, in order to humiliate the guests.
Kitty stood at the front of the room, tossing the bouquet from hand to
hand, as the deejay called all the single women onto the floor. I
watched them jockey for position; Jubilee and -- fuck -- Jean were
jostling each other up near the front of the crowd. Maybe she was
serious about that wedding crap. Marie stood in the back, talking
animatedly with Storm, who'd dragged her out there. Neither seemed
interested in the proceedings. Technically, 'Ro was married (and I
suppose I'll have to actually congratulate Scooter on that one), and
Marie was divorced, so I suppose that makes sense.
Kitty tossed that sucker for all it was worth, and it went sailing over
everyone's heads, banging Marie right in her deadly cleavage. She
grabbed at it in surprise, and everyone whooped. The deejay called her
over and announced, "We have our lovely bride-to-be here. What's your
"Rogue," she muttered, blushing. I always liked the way she blushed. You
know, it goes all the way down to her toes if she's really embarrassed.
Jean came back to the seat next to mine and smiled, but I could tell it
was false. She was angry. I shook my head slightly. I really don't get
The deejay was still talking, walking Iceman through the farce of
pulling off Kitty's garter as everyone whooped and cheered.
Then the schmuck turned back to us. "Now who's going to be the lucky
fella who gets to walk her down the aisle?" the guy said, and all the
guys in the place flooded the dance floor. She really did look hot in
that gown, and she carried the gloves better than anyone, being so used
to them, I guess.
Jean gave me that same tight smile. "Aren't you going to go out there?"
she asked before taking a long sip of wine. I just shook my head. No
fucking way in hell. She pressed up against me. "I think you should,"
See? Women make no sense. No matter what I did at this point, I was
fucked. I growled as I realized that. I made my way out onto the floor
and stood off to the side, next to this guy named Doug, who wasn't
looking too thrilled, either.
Bobby tossed the garter, and the idiots batted it around until it landed
on the floor in front of Chuck. I picked it up and handed it to him.
"It's all yours, Wheels."
He laughed. "I think you'd be better suited to this task, Logan," he
I shrugged and walked over to where the deejay was standing. Marie was
sitting in a chair and he was telling her to lift her dress up. I
growled and he moved out of the way quick.
"Make it snappy," she whispered, and I could tell she was as embarrassed
as I was. It was sheer hell, running my hand up that leg -- I used to
get to do whatever I wanted with those legs, and let me tell you, they
are mighty fine legs, some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen a
The crowd started chanting "Higher" in tune with that dumbass song they
were playing, and I slid the garter gently over Marie's ankle and began
pushing it up her leg. She might have looked annoyed, but she was
feeling that connection between us, whatever it is, too. I could smell
it on her, hear it in the way her heart sped up and her breath caught. I
wasn't exactly immune to the attraction myself. I was kneeling there, my
hand on her thigh, her hand on my shoulder, and I just wanted to lay her
out flat and take her right there, wedding guests be damned. The asswipe
deejay had to call my name three times before I snapped out of it, and I
saw Jean's face with an expression I don't generally get to see. She was
pissed as all hell, and I hoped it didn't mean I wasn't getting laid
tonight, because I really needed to, right then.
Marie and I just looked at each other for one final moment and then we
both moved at the same time, away from each other. She practically
knocked the chair over in her hurry to get away from me, and I was glad.
Because I wasn't going to mess up what I had now, trying to fix what I'd
fucked up before.
I walked over to Jean and rubbed her shoulders, placing a kiss on her
neck, and another on her mouth. She softened then, and I knew I was
forgiven. Hell, it's not my fault nobody wanted to catch the damn
Kitty and Bobby made their last rounds. Jean and I said goodbye to the
happy couple, who teased us about being next in line. "What the hell was
that about?" I snapped.
She shrugged. "We've been together a while now, Logan. People start to
talk." She was annoyed again, but I knew it wouldn't last long.
We got up to our room and almost before the door was shut, I was
stripping that gown off her gorgeous body and pushing her down on the
bed. She wasn't wearing a bra and I paid very special attention to her
breasts. Her arms were around me, one hand in my hair, and the cool
satin of her gloves was just making me crazy. She went to pull them off,
and then I made mistake number three for the evening.
"Leave 'em on," I muttered, going back to sucking at her nipple.
Most women would be okay with that, right? I mean, satin gloves ain't
exactly on the top of the kinky list, you know? But most women don't
have lovers whose exes wore gloves all the time.
Jean shoved me so hard I went sprawling on my ass. She used her
telekinesis, because no way she could move me like that without it.
"What the fuck--"
"Get out, Logan. If you want someone wearing gloves, you know where to
I stood. If that's how she wanted to play it, fine. I walked out without
"I'd join the movement if there was one I could believe in / I'd break
bread and wine if there was a church I could receive in" - "Acrobat" -
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