“Whoa,” was Eve’s opinion on the matter.

Sandy hugged her and Shawn melted into the warmth of that embrace. “Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you.” She meant that most sincerely. She had deceived Rhett’s family, and they were showing her nothing but love. She was truly grateful for that.

Especially given that her own mother chose that moment to come into the room. “What’s going on, Shawn? Why are you serving so many beef products?” she said by way of greeting.

Raising her head, Shawn swallowed hard. “Mom, please. Everyone was nice enough to help me with this party, I don’t want to hear any criticism.”

“I’m just saying.” Her mother pouted, her long hair loose from its usual braid, gray streaked throughout since she didn’t believe in using chemicals to dye it. Her dress was more of a wrap-and-sari combination in a vivid purple, which Shawn knew was not a color that could be achieved with natural dye. So, as usual, her mother selectively chose her moments to be environmental.

Still feeling a little weak, she took a deep breath and was standing up, holding on to Sandy’s arm, when Rhett came into the room, with a pointless knock on the door as he was already entering.

“This is the ladies’ room,” Charity told him.

“I’m coming to see what’s taking so long. Everyone is here, and they’re devouring the appetizers.”

He looked very handsome in his suit, his tie straight, a jaunty red for the Valentine’s Day theme, and Shawn willed him to meet her eye. She needed him to look at her, to reassure her. He did, giving her that sexy smile that she had first noticed in The Wet Spot, her insides turning to liquid.

“Hey, beautiful. You ready to do this thing?”

She nodded, immediately feeling better, then immediately after that freaking out that she needed him to make her feel better.

He held his hand out for her.

She took it.

* * *

SHAWN looked a little green, but Rhett knew she was nervous about being the center of attention. He found it interesting that for a woman who ran a business and had spent all those years on the youth racing circuit, she wasn’t comfortable with entertaining. Parties and anything that could be classified as an event seemed to generate nerves. Yet in his mind, every weekend at Hamby Speedway during the season was an “event.”

Maybe it was just that she didn’t really like wearing dresses, which was a damn shame, because she was a knockout in them. Especially this one. It looked every inch what he would imagine a bridal gown to be, from the strapless fitted top, to the flowing skirt that looked a little like soft-serve ice cream to him. He wanted to lick her.

“You hungry?” he asked her, as they moved down the hall, her friends and their mothers following them. “There is enough food in there to feed the fans at the Daytona 500.”

It was an inane thing to say, but he wanted her to relax. He squeezed her hand a little and she squeezed back.

“I actually have an upset stomach,” she said. “I think I’m having stage fright.”

“It’s just our friends and family. And the hard part is over. If you didn’t faint in that courthouse,” he murmured to her, “I think you’ll be fine. I mean, let’s face it, it takes a strong woman to agree to put up with me for even six months.”

She gave a brittle laugh, but the tension lines in her forehead smoothed. “True. You are a whole lot of something, Rhett Butler Ford.”

He winced. “Don’t trot out the middle name unless you’re pissed off at me. Or I may not contain my spankings to the bedroom.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

She smiled up at him, and he was glad to see she was genuinely amused and looking less sallow. “Don’t try me,” he teased. Then he pushed open the doorway to the banquet room that his sisters had spent the last two days decorating.

“A big Charlotte welcome to the brand new Mr. and Mrs. Rhett and Shawn Ford!” his brother-in-law Mark boomed as they stepped into the room.

Mark had gotten a microphone from God knows where, and he appeared to have nominated himself for MC/DJ, an iPod and speakers set up behind him.

Even Rhett wasn’t quite prepared for the loud pronouncement of them as man and wife and the thundering applause and hoots and hollers that followed. For a second he just blinked.

Shawn murmured, “Good Lord, it looks like Cupid shart in here.”

Rhett choked back a laugh and managed to smile and raise their clasped hands together in a victory shake. Then he fought the urge to drag Shawn through the crowd and the explosion of pink and red hearts, and took a nice, steady pace instead. He wasn’t exactly sure where they were supposed to go, so he took the opportunity to just stop every few feet and greet guests and receive hugs from ancient great-aunts and his grandmother.

Suddenly he wasn’t sure this party had been such a fabulous idea after all, because while he knew for certain he loved Shawn and she loved him, they had gone about this all ass backwards. Instead of taking their vows in a church with family present, meaning each of those words they’d spoken, they had stood before a judge and lied through their teeth. It left the stain of dishonesty on this party, and that pissed him off. He didn’t want there to be any whiff of falsity to the night, and while he was used to being hugged and cosseted from female family members, the truth was, he didn’t have his brother’s easy charm. Playing host wasn’t any easier for him than it was for Shawn to tackle the hostess role.

So as soon as they had reached the head table, crowded with giant vases of red flowers, he deposited Shawn in a chair and went for some liquid fortification. Shawn shook her head when he asked if she wanted a drink, already turning away as her mother swooped down on her like a purple dragon. He’d barely exchanged five words with her, and he had to say quite honestly, he despised her mother. From her made-up first name of Mati, stolen no doubt from the legendary spy, to her insistence that marriage was for the weak-minded, she grated on his nerves.

Rhett had kind of always thought marriage was for the monogamous, but go figure. He ordered a shot of whiskey from the bartender.

“Eight dollars,” the bartender told him.

He didn’t even have his wallet on him. “I’m the groom.”

“I’m sorry, sir, that doesn’t matter.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Rhett turned to go find someone to bum a ten off of, when he almost ran into his father.

“Let me buy you a drink, son.”

“Thanks, Dad,” he said, more relieved than he cared to admit. He wasn’t usually one to crave alcohol, but neither did he usually have this much emotion churning inside him like a cement mixer.

“Whatever he wants,” his father told the bartender. He handed the bartender a hundred dollar bill. “For the rest of the night so we don’t have to keep doing this every time he or his bride need to wet their whistle.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Rhett was touched.

His father smiled at him and held his hand out. They shook. “Congrats. I hope you and Shawn will be as happy as your mother and I have been.”

Yeah, that was a lump the size of a baby’s fist in his throat. “Me, too,” he said. He meant it with every bone in his body.

“My youngest married.” Nolan Senior shook his head. “Damn, I must be old.”

“Nah.” Rhett clamped him on the shoulder. “You still have a lot of Saturday afternoon delights with Mom ahead of you.”

“Don’t be smart, boy.” But his father did laugh, even if the tips of his ears were a little pink.

Rhett grinned and raised his glass. “Cheers.” He drank the shot of whiskey and felt the slow burn down his throat, knocking through that lump in there like Drano. That was better.

Somehow as various brothers-in-law and uncles and cousins came up for a drink, Rhett found himself trapped at the bar for over an hour. During which he might have done another three shots. Feeling pleasantly buzzed, he finally made his way over to the buffet of food and attempted to load himself up a plate. After he dropped the slotted spoon in the green beans three times, his Aunt Trudy took his plate from him and not only spooned up his beans for him, but went down the whole line, loading him up with eats.

“Don’t trip on your way to your table,” she told him with a wink. “And lay off the whiskey if you want to make your bride happy tonight.”

Ha. As if that was ever an issue. His chest inflated with more than a little manly pride. “How do you know I’ve been drinking?”

“I married your Uncle Georgie, didn’t I? That man has pickled his liver.”

Rhett couldn’t really argue with that. Georgie was a pretty hard-core drinker. He’d been known to fall asleep with his forehead on the bar top in his local watering hole, then rousing long enough to order another one before passing out again.

“I smell it on you.”

“Oh.” That was his stellar whiskey-stunted brainiac reply. “Good party, huh?” he asked, feeling satisfied with the way it was turning out. Sure, there was an excess of pink and Ford relatives, but everyone was happy and having a good time. Mark was spinning tunes, or more accurately, had hit play on the playlist, and there was some early dancing starting up, still a little timid and demure at this point. Another hour, the jackets and the ladies’ shoes would come off, and the hip shaking would begin in earnest. Just like a real wedding. It felt like a real wedding.

Which reminded him. He hadn’t seen Shawn in quite a while.

“Excuse me, Aunt Trudy. I need to find my beautiful wife.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Shawn snapped at him when he returned to the table, balancing his plate with one hand while swiping a deviled egg off the pile with the other.

“I went for a drink.” He pointed to his plate. “And food. Do you want me to get you some?”

“I want you to not abandon me again like that. God, I just met a thousand relatives all on my own. Eve brought me a plate.” Shawn was sitting down, and her dinner was really just a pile of shredded biscuits with some uneaten ham next to it.

“Do you want something else?” he asked. “I can go back up for you.” He sat next to her and kissed the side of her head. “Sorry. I got waylaid by congratulations.”

“Are you drunk?” she asked him, sounding very suspicious.

“No. I am buzzed. There is a big difference.” He shoveled pasta into his mouth. He was suddenly very hungry now that his nerves had worn off.

“Oh, Lord,” was her opinion.

“Aren’t you drinking?” he asked her. “You didn’t drink much last night either. Just a couple of beers.”

“I have a headache and my stomach is queasy. Plus I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of your family, so no, I’m not drinking.”

“I doubt you would do that. You’re the king of the car bomb, remember? You can hold your liquor. Have a drink if you want one.” It might do her some good.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay.” See how good he was at being a husband? He was already agreeing to everything she said.

There was a violent clanking of forks on glasses throughout, and Rhett grinned at Shawn. “They want us to kiss.”

She leaned forward and gave him the most chaste kiss they had ever shared, then waved in acknowledgment to the crowd.

“What kind of a kiss was that?” he complained. “Next time, I think you should slip me some tongue. Show me you mean it.”

“Rhett, don’t piss me off right now, seriously.”

“What?” he asked in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, babe, are you really feeling that awful?”

She nodded, her eyes suddenly welling up with tears.

Seeing her expression, he felt horrible, and he reached over and brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Did you take any aspirin?”

“No. I didn’t bring my purse.”

“Honey, there are thirty females in this room. We could medicate a small hospital once they open their purses. I’ll get you something.”

“Thanks.”

“And as pretty as your hair looks, maybe you should loosen that knot thing it’s in. That can’t be helping.”

She nodded, and he went off in search of pain relievers. Within five minutes he had them and had brought them to Shawn. But then he was called over to the bar by his father, who was telling a story to a group of cousins involving Rhett’s first dirt bike and a certain accident involving his jeans.

“Dad, this is not a roast. It’s my wedding. You can’t be telling about every stupid thing I did as a kid.”

“The hell I can’t. It’s a father’s privilege once his son is grown. Someday you’ll understand that yourself. Let’s do a shot.”