Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
“It’s true that without Alan, maybe the idea of marriage would never have occurred to me, but I’m so glad it did. I never thought I’d be a good husband to anyone, but you made me want to try. Because I love you, Hazel, and everything between us has been one hundred percent real. If you can forgive me, if you give me a chance, I’ll show you that I meant everything I said. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone before.”
Before I have a chance to respond, Rafe says, “I love you, too. Nothing’s right without you. Please come home, Hazel. We miss you.”
Bron takes my hand from Conal and kisses it. “I love everything about you,” he says. “Your kindness, your spirit, your generosity, your curiosity. Everything.” He squeezes my hand. “We’re all in love with you, Hazel. Will you please let us show you how much?”
“I love you all, too,” I say, my voice husky with unshed tears. “That’s why it hurts so much.” I pull my hands back into my lap. “But I don’t think I fit into your lives.”
“You do,” Rafe says, with absolute assurance. “You fit in our lives like you were born to it. But whatever we need to do to make you comfortable, we’ll do it.”
“We’ll make everything up to you,” Conal adds. “We promise.”
I look into his eyes, searching for the reassurance I need. “So if you had to do it over again—if all the stuff with Alan hadn’t happened—would you still marry me?”
“Yes. A million times,” Conal says. “I fell for you that night, Hazel. I didn’t realize how much at first, but you’re everything to me.”
I blink away the tears in my eyes. “I love you so much,” I whisper.
He cups my face with one big hand. “Yeah?”
I turn my head and kiss his palm. “Yeah.”
Conal reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out my wedding rings. “Will you wear these again, baby?”
I can’t speak, so I just nod my head. Eagerly.
After positioning the bands over the tip of my finger, his eyes are on mine as he slides them all the way up, and I have no doubts at all about how much our marriage means to him. About how much I mean to him.
Then he pulls me out of the chair and into his lap. He doesn’t even try to kiss me, just crushes me to him like he’ll never let me go. I cling to him, and let the rightness of being in his arms seep into my cells.
Eventually, each of the men kisses me, and that’s what we’re doing when my mom walks in with my sister, who lets out a gasp worthy of a melodrama. I roll my eyes at her and smile at my mom, who smiles back.
Conal kisses my forehead. “We'd love for you to come back to Vegas with us as soon as you can. Will you come?”
“Yes, but I need to pack.”
“We’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe,” he says, and gives me a look when I open my mouth to protest. “But if there’s anything here with sentimental value that you’d like to bring back, go ahead.”
A few minutes later, I’m ready. I hug my mom and my sister and promise that I’ll be back to visit before long.
We all put our sunglasses on before we brave the gauntlet outside. The security team escorts us safely to our SUV, and we head for the small airfield where the band’s plane landed.
I sit on the plane between Conal and Bron, then Conal and Rafe, all of them holding my hands, touching me, kissing my cheek. Not constantly, but steadily, as if reassuring themselves that I’m really there with them.
When the lights of the Vegas house appear, I can’t deny the relief that fills me. I’m back home where I belong.
HAZEL
Everyone has welcomed me back, even Roddy. “These guys were miserable the whole time you were gone,” he tells me. “Worst I’ve ever seen them. And they made shit progress on the album.”
I’m both sorry to hear it, and selfishly gratified that they missed me that much.
No matter the reason that our marriage began, Conal and his brothers have shown me through not just words, but actions, that our love is real.
And speaking of action, on my first night home the sex is urgent, needy, riding the edge of frantic. We all need to reestablish this part of our relationship, and the unspoken promises we make to each other keep us going through the night.
The next morning, we sleep in, tangled together in the bedsheets. We finally wake up around midday and make our groggy way downstairs, and it strikes me that this self-indulgent start to the day feels much more like a rock star’s life than the men’s usual up-and-at-’em approach to their work. If I’m honest, I wouldn’t mind it if we lazed around like this sometimes.