“No, I love it,” I assured him. “It’s perfect.” And then I smiled. “My new lifeline.”
Jared snorted, remembering my lifelines from high school. The things I always made sure to have on me when I went out, just in case I needed to escape him.
He leaned in, kissing my hair. “I don’t want to wait to marry you,” he whispered, and I nuzzled into him, loving him so much.
I didn’t want to wait, either.
Chapter 18
Jared
Three Months Later
“Knock it off.” I jerked away from Madoc’s hands as he fiddled with my tie.
“But it’s crooked,” he argued, yanking me back. “And it looks like shit.”
I gave in, standing still and trying not to feel creeped out as another guy straightened my necktie.
My entire suit was black, of course, but I’d added a vest for extra effect.
Madoc leaned in, his mouth inches from mine. “Mmmm, you smell good,” he purred.
I jerked back, wincing. “Get off me,” I grumbled, shoving him away, and he hunched over, his face turning red from laughing so hard.
Jax hurried over to my side, smiling. “She’s here.”
I grinned but then hid it right away. Grabbing the back of my neck, I put my head down and tried to get my pulse under control. Hell, get my temperature under control, for that matter. I felt sweat on my back, even though it was late September and the weather had started cooling off already.
I looked around the pond—our fishpond—and focused on the small man-made waterfall display with little rapids cascading down the rocks, and I remembered her here when we were little.
This was where I’d thought I lost her when I was fourteen, so as a measure to make sure that no bad memory ever controlled us again, we both agreed that this was where we’d be married.
This was the start of new memories and new adventures.
Jason and Ciaran, Fallon’s father who had employed my brother for a time and become part of the family in a way, stood off to the side, chatting casually—which was surprising, considering they worked on opposite sides of the law. My mom—glowing and with newfound energy—sat on a ledge, holding Quinn in her arms, while Pasha stood next to the pond’s edge dressed in a tight silver and black dress, standing out like a sore thumb.
Lucas, Madoc’s “little brother”, played on his phone, while Lucas’s mom and Miss Penley—or Lizzy, as we were allowed to call her now, but I refused, because it was weird—cooed over my new little sister.
James, Tate’s dad, and his new fiancée had bought a house between Chicago and Shelburne Falls, an easy commute that wouldn’t disrupt either of their jobs. They were planning a summer ceremony next year.
Juliet, Fallon, and James were all with Tate, I assumed, and Madoc and Jax were standing up for me.
“You know, you didn’t have to do this,” Madoc spoke up, straightening his own tie. “Jax is your brother. It would make sense that he’d stand up for you at your wedding.”
I saw the officiant approach and pointed out to Madoc, “You’re my brother, too. I can’t choose between either of you any more than Tate could choose between Fallon and Juliet.”
When we’d had to tell the officiant the names of my best man and her maid—or matron of honor, we didn’t second-guess ourselves. Fallon and Juliet for her, Jax and Madoc for me.
“You know we could’ve just had this at my house,” he suggested. “There’s plenty of room on the grounds, and you wouldn’t have had to limit the guest list.”
“We limited it out of preference,” I corrected him, “not necessity. Tate and I wanted small and private,” I told him, knowing he preferred big and flashy. “And we wanted it here,” I added.
“Okay.” He dropped the subject, accepting my reasoning. And I knew he understood.
Although Madoc had had an impromptu wedding at a bar, I don’t think he regretted it for a second. He loved Fallon, and they had just wanted to get married. The rest didn’t matter.
Tate and I waited a little longer than he and Fallon did, but not by much.
We’d spent the rest of the summer between Shelburne Falls—relaxing with our friends and enjoying our family—and California, looking for an apartment near Stanford and spending time at my shop.
Once school started, Tate got settled in as I commuted home to her as much as possible. The wedding date and details here were already set, so all we had to do was fly in and then fly out.
For Christmas, we were spending a week here with family and then a week locked in a cabin in Colorado for a delayed honeymoon. Tate had it in her head that we’d ski.
Yeah, no.
Just the thought of her walking around a cozy cabin dressed in nothing but a long sweater that showed off her beautiful legs in the firelight . . .
I might ski. If she was really nice.
After the ceremony today, we were having a small, private dinner and then going home to our house; we were already having fun planning what to renovate whenever we were able to make it home in the future.
“You didn’t invite a shitload of people to your house for a party tonight, did you?” I shot Madoc a knowing look. He loved parties and looked for any excuse to have one.
But he looked insulted. “Of course not,” he answered and then jerked his chin, standing up straight. “Here we go, dude.”
I turned my head, hearing the music start, and suddenly my pulse starting raging—pumping like a machine gun under my skin—and I focused on the path next to the rocks. Where I knew she was coming from.
Four cello players sat above us on a rock landing, playing Apocalyptica’s rendition of “Nothing Else Matters,” and everything hurt as I looked around. In a good way, I guess. I just wanted to see her so badly.