Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Embry had tears in his eyes when he turned to me and said, “This is absolutely perfect. Thank you again, Ryder.”
That seemed like a lot of emotion for a pretend wedding. Maybe there was more to this than met the eye. “I’m happy to help. So are the rest of the guys.”
For the ceremony, they decided Embry would enter from the pool house on the right, Hal would bring in Bryson through the gate on the left, and they’d meet in the middle at the gazebo, where the officiant would be waiting. Embry asked what they should do for music while he and his fiancé were making their entrances, and I said, “Three of my teammates are in a gay men’s chorus. Want me to ask them if they’ll sing something?”
He liked that idea, so I sent a message via the team group chat, because it was quicker than contacting the three guys individually. That turned out to be a bad idea. The singers said yes right away, but so did several more of our teammates. I hoped their enthusiasm would make up for any actual skill, because some of these guys couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.
Now that the ceremony was decided, Embry said he was going to go work on the cake, and Vee offered to help him. Hal asked, “What should I do?”
That made Embry grin. “Hang out with Ryder. The cake’s going to take some time. Once it’s done, I’d love it if you could help me straighten my hair and get my outfit together. But it’s going to be a while.”
Embry and Vee went back inside, and Hal leaned into me and smiled. “You heard him. I’m all yours until the groom needs help.”
“That’s excellent news.” I brushed my lips to his and said, “Let’s go sit in the shade, while you tell me about the wedding venues you saw today.”
I took a seat on a lounge chair in a corner of the yard, under a pergola covered with some sort of ivy. I was both surprised and happy when Hal climbed on top of me, straddling my lap. He took a sip of iced tea before setting his glass on an end table, and then he rested his head on my shoulder while I rubbed his back.
“I can appreciate the kitsch of a drive-through wedding presided over by an Elvis impersonator,” he said. “And some of these places offered theme weddings, where everyone would dress up as gangsters, pirates, disco dancers, or whatever. I was secretly hoping he’d go with disco so I’d have an excuse to raid the local thrift shops for bell bottoms and platform shoes, but Embry wasn’t feeling any of the places we saw. He really wanted his fake fiancé to be happy with his decision, and maybe he was worried Bryson would think those places were tacky. I mean, they were, obviously. But intentionally so.”
“I’m not sure how I’d feel about a kitschy theme wedding, personally.”
“You and your ex were together a long time. Did you ever talk about marriage?”
“I tried to,” I said. “Whenever I brought it up, he’d tell me he wasn’t ready. I thought maybe he was dragging his feet because he didn’t want to move to the country. It would have meant commuting into Austin for his job and giving up all the perks of city life, like having his choice of twenty bars and restaurants within a mile of his condo.” I paused before saying, “But maybe deep down, he knew all along that I wasn’t the one.”
Hal muttered, “Fuck that douche canoe and his twinsie goatee. You’re much better off without him.”
“I know.” I slid my hand under the hem of his tunic and began gently rubbing his back as I asked, “If you could plan your perfect wedding, what would it look like?”
“I used to know the answer to that, but I don’t anymore. My ex and I would talk about it a lot. We weren’t officially engaged, but we were living together, and there was always this assumption that we’d take that next step eventually.”
Hal sighed before continuing, “He’d come up with these incredible ideas, like getting married on the lawn at the Griffith Observatory, which has the most stunning views of L.A. I’d wear something fabulous that I designed, of course. We’d invite hundreds of people, and our reception would be a huge party with a great band, champagne, the best of everything.” He whispered, “I hate him so much for making me think that might happen, while he was banging other people behind my back.”
“I’m really sorry he did that to you.”
“I dodged a bullet, just like you did,” he said, as he idly traced my flannel shirt’s plaid pattern. “And really, that dream wedding we talked about was too much—too ostentatious, too big, too much about showing off and making people think we had it all. I don’t want that. I don’t even know if I want to get married anymore.”