Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
My blush deepens, and I’m not sure how to answer him. He really thought his brother and I would end up married?
“You really shouldn’t cuss in church, you know,” I tease instead of directly answering his non-question.
He snorts. “Trust me. God doesn’t have time to worry about me. He’s too busy making sure Brooks’s bullshit doesn’t catch this place on fire.”
I laugh. He’s probably onto something there.
“No, but seriously … welcome to the family,” Gray says.
“I appreciate that very much.”
He gives his arm to Markie as she returns and takes a breath. “It’s go time.” They step into the foyer and face the doors, sealing the entryway from the sanctuary. The music changes, growing slower, as the doors creak open.
My heart begins to pound so hard that I’m woozy on my feet. I clutch my flowers, watching Lilly’s reaction to the number of people in attendance. Her wide eyes and hushed whispers to her mother make my stomach flip.
Suddenly, I wish I weren’t alone. I knew Miles wouldn’t attend well before he told me that, and I didn’t think it would matter. But I just wish there was someone here to make this journey with me, someone who I could call in a moment like this.
When did my life become so solitary? Is it just because I’m surrounded by all of these people who obviously care deeply about each other? Does that make my loneliness feel bigger than it really is?
I’m wearing my mother’s wedding dress in an impromptu wedding with the only man I could ever fathom marrying. That could be the cause. Well, that or my nomadic lifestyle has been a little too effective at making me a loner.
Do not cry, Mira. You’ll ruin your makeup. My chest shakes as I breathe, and I know tears are a moment away.
I take the blue handkerchief that Lolly gave me and dab my eyes. Just as Markie and Gray take their first step toward the aisle, I feel a hand on my shoulder.
Miles?
I gasp a breath and look over my shoulder to find Brooks watching me.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him. “Shouldn’t you have taken your seat?”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, his usual mischievous smile gone.
“You know, I don’t know if I ever told you this or not, but when I was about eight years old, my dad had me around the throat after a baseball game,” he says.
My heart drops. Why are you telling me? And why are you telling me this now?
“He was shaking the shit out of me for missing a ball at shortstop,” Brooks says, somber. “And your dad came around the concession stand and saw us. In no uncertain terms, he told my dad that if he ever saw him touch me again, he’d break every one of his fingers so that he’d never be able to grab anything again.” He looks at the ground, as if he’s replaying the memory, before lifting his gaze to mine. “I was just sitting in there with Audrey, thinking about our upcoming wedding. And I got to thinking about how beautiful she’ll be when she walks down the aisle with her dad.” He licks his lips. “And then I realized that you’d be walking yourself down the aisle today.”
My bottom lip trembles.
I know Brooks, but we aren’t exactly great friends. And maybe he’s not doing this for me, but he’s doing it for Hartley, knowing Hartley would want that for me. Either way, he didn’t have to get up and leave his fiancée and come back here to offer something so kind to me.
But he did. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell him how much his kindness means to me.
“If you’ve got this by yourself, I’ll go back to my seat,” he says. “But if you don’t want to walk alone, I’d love to walk with you. I kinda feel like I owe your dad a favor, and handing you off to the best man that I’ve ever known seems like a good way to repay him.” His lips twist. “I’d also like to see the look on Hart’s face, but that’s me being petty.”
I laugh through my tears as my heart swells, doubling in size. “I’d really, really appreciate you walking with me, Brooks,” I whisper, struggling to keep my emotions at bay. If Brooks has me ready to cry, I’m probably screwed.
He stands tall beside me, offering me his elbow. I slide my arm through it and take a long, deep breath.
“For the record,” he says, “I do want to be invited to every holiday and cookout, no matter what Hartley tells you.”
My cheeks ache from smiling. “Noted.”
The bridal chorus begins to play, and Jessica motions for us to begin our walk.
“Here we go,” Brooks whispers as we step into the foyer.