Kiss My Boots (Coming Home #2)

Clay and Leigh stand back and wait for Tate and me to walk the distance to where everyone else is standing. I walk past Jana, giving her a watery smile, and stand where I’m supposed to. Tate nods at Mav, whose eyes are trained on Leigh like a thirsting man parched for a sip of water, before standing next to Jana and Bart. He’s close enough that I could probably reach out and touch him, but not directly next to me. Leigh was clear that she only wanted her family here—Tate included—and that the only people she wanted standing up with her and Mav would be Clay, myself, and Trey.

I know my brother well enough that I can tell when he’s working hard to keep control of himself, but just as it is for me, it’s a futile effort for him. I look away, knowing that if I see him—the strongest man I know, except for maybe Clay—start to tear up, I’m done for. Leigh is smiling like a loon through her tears.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, my dumbass self looks at Maverick, and I turn into a big fat baby.

Unlike Clay, he clearly doesn’t give two shits if he shows how much this moment means to him. His mouth is slightly open, just a tiny gap, but with each heavy breath he sucks in, his bottom lip quivers. Tears are slowly falling down his face and even though his ever-present black Stetson is on the top of his head, I don’t need to see his eyes clearly to know those tears aren’t going to stop any time soon.

I sniffle, loudly and pathetically, before soft, hiccupping sobs start leaving my body. I figured I was doing a good job of being quiet, but by the time Leigh is halfway toward her groom, I see an arm coming toward me and Tate’s handkerchief being waved in my face.

“Th-thanks.” I sob, taking it and wiping at my eyes before blowing my nose in it.

He laughs softly and shakes his head.

Clay reaches Maverick and, after giving him a huge hug—making me cry a little harder—he leans back and presses a soft kiss against Leigh’s cheek. When he comes to stand next to me, both of us facing the pastor, Maverick, and Leigh, he wraps an arm around me and pulls me hard into his side. This is so much more than our brother marrying the woman he loves. Both of them came so far to get to this point—but having witnessed firsthand the pain that followed Maverick around until it pushed him to the point where he didn’t come back for years and years, I know just how monumental this moment is for him.

I listen to Pastor John talk, my brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law looking at each other with so much love that it hurts to think they almost lost this. I think all of us Davis kids have all wanted, begged, and prayed for the pure and accepting love of another person: not a sibling or a best friend, but a soul mate, someone with whom we can form an unbreakable bond, who will become family. Corny as it sounds, it’s the truth. There isn’t a single person outside of that who will love you with such unstoppable and unbreakable force, whose whole purpose in life is to make sure you feel how much they care for you and always will. Those that will fight for you, protect you, die for you.

My brother found it with Leighton.

I hope to God Clay finds it with someone, too.

And me . . . I draw in a shuddering breath and look to my right, expecting to see Tate watching Leigh and Maverick being united, but find his eyes on me. What I see in them is powerful enough that had Clay not been holding on to me, I would have eaten dirt.

He’s looking at me like he’s the one that’s found all that in me. I’ve spent so much time worried that even though I’ve fully committed myself to our reunion, he might vanish again, that I completely missed it.

I’ve always known that being abandoned by my mom would make me crave that pure love from someone with a ferocity that bordered on unhealthy—I was desperate for it.

I found it with Tate every summer from age eleven until eighteen; then the void of it made that desperation multiply until I knew I would only be complete with him and that no one else would do. During the time he was gone, I convinced myself that there was no way he could have felt the same and not come back.

However, not once did it occur to me he’s been just as frantic for the same thing. He might have had the love of his grandparents, but there’s no mistaking what’s written all over his face for me to see. He’s struggled, felt the searing pain, and known that void just as violently as I did. He fought for me—for all those I love, too. He protected me, my family, and his grandparents selflessly. And, I bet if it would have come to it, he would have died for us, too.

My God.

My eyes widen. I’m still looking at him and missing the whole ceremony in the process: I know we are right where we need to be. Where we’re meant to be.

Together, forever.

He must see what I’m feeling—my love for him—because his eyes soften and he gives me a small nod before mouthing the words I’ve longed to hear from him for so long.

I love you.

Then, timing be damned, I give them right back, feeling that void inside of me fill up, so full it’s running over the edges, causing a waterfall of pure happiness to flood my body.

I love you, too.

His eyes close as he savors this moment, and I look back at my brother and best friend just in time to see them kiss for the first time as husband and wife.

- -

When we walk into the Dam Bar later that night, after our group and the wonderful pastor enjoy a big wedding lunch at Leigh and Mav’s, the whole place goes nuts. I smile at my brother when he takes his wife and dips her low, laying a huge wet kiss on her mouth, commanding attention.

Looking around, it seems like the whole damn town came out tonight to celebrate, which makes sense seeing how everyone’s been waiting for this moment a long time.

“You want a drink?”

I look away from the happy couple and smile at Tate, nodding and leaning up to kiss his jaw before he walks toward the bar.

Maverick and Leigh walk farther into the bar but are stopped and surrounded by well-wishers before they can get too far. They knew this would happen and gladly welcome it, seeing as we purposely chose to go out to celebrate instead of them hiding away.

“You look happy,” Clay observes, bending so he can say it low enough that I can hear him over the music.

“My brother just married my best friend. If I look happy it’s because I am, big brother.”

“It was a beautiful day, but I meant a little more than the weddin’, sugar.”

My eyes travel from Mav and Leigh to where Tate is standing, hip against the bar, smiling at the new couple.

“I feel whole, Clay,” I tell him, still not looking away from Tate. “So completely full that there isn’t a part of me that remembers what it felt like to not feel this way. I thought . . . I thought I wouldn’t get this, even with things bein’ perfect with Tate, I figured there would always be somethin’ lackin’.”

“What do you mean?”