Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
The world settles, even though it still feels like it’s on the verge of blowing away like a dandelion puff.
“Getting cold feet yet, Pages?” he whispers.
“Never! You?”
“Hell no,” he growls back, the corner of his mouth quirking as we both turn to face the priest.
Let’s do this.
Let’s get married under the sinking red sun, before these gold trees and God, with his calloused fingers sliding a ring on my finger, sealing our eternity.
And once we’re official, once our vows are spoken, once we’re really, truly, inseparably married, he catches me around the waist.
He bends me over.
He kisses me with the rough, yet tender reverence I get to relish forever as Mrs. Ethan Blackthorn.
“You look incredible,” he tells me as he sets me back on my feet. “That dress is a dream. Christ, is any of this real?”
“Marrying me?”
“Yeah. I had to check.” Grinning, he shakes his head. “I’ve been pinching myself all damn morning.”
“It’s real, all right. I’m your wife, silly. No getting out of it now.”
“My wife. Goddamn, that’s glorious.” Smiling, he cups my jaw and swipes his thumb over my bottom lip. His gaze darkens. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.”
“Please don’t. I don’t ever want to take this for granted.”
I reach up, pressing my lips to his again.
Our hands are linked, so it’s easy to walk down the aisle, past the people we love enough to be at our wedding.
No press, thank God—that was the promise we made.
No media coverage on our wedding and no cameras for the ceremony, aside from the photographer.
Our biggest wedding present might be total privacy.
Today is for us.
The rest of the world can wait.
Before, Ethan was so caught up with expectations. Keeping up appearances for the sake of his company, so intent on making this thing seem legit to everyone around him.
Not anymore.
The only thing that matters to him is my smile.
And I’m freaking grinning as we break away into the cool evening air.
The photographer snaps off rapid-fire shots as we walk the lakeshore, a welcome break from the small crowd, holding hands and talking about the future.
All the things we want.
All the dreams to merge.
We’ve had these conversations before, but it’s different on your wedding day.
After you’ve waded through the ‘until death do you part’ spiel, the future isn’t this far-off murky thing anymore.
It’s waiting in front of us like a red carpet.
After what feels like an hour of photos, a car drives us back to the reception, set up in the same converted barn we started with.
Since the service, it’s been transformed from rustic beauty to modest glamor. Soft orange lights trail the ceiling, framing every door.
It’s a joy to just sit at our special table and bask in the scene.
Lovely, white-clothed tables fill the room. There’s an open bar at the far end of the room. Margot insisted on that.
Every detail looks exquisite.
We wanted simple, but the napkins twisted in heart shapes next to our plates make me want to tear up.
So do the personalized notes we spent hours writing for every guest.
I search the room for Ethan’s parents, watching as they pick up name cards and read the note Ethan wrote on the back.
“What did you say?” I whisper.
Elvira stiffens like she’s trying to hold her emotions in. Scott reaches for his wine, the shock on his face palpable.
Ethan’s hand finds mine under the table. His thumb swipes the back of my hand.
“I told Dad he’ll always be my father in all the ways that matter.”
“And your mom?”
Even if they’ve been cordial, things are strained ever since Ethan found out about his origin.
I get it, though I’ve tried to encourage a little healing.
Not easy when the rift started well before her secret fell out.
I think they’ve misunderstood each other since Ethan was little. Elvira has some seriously complex feelings about her son, but at the end of the day, they’re family to the core.
They still love each other, even if it’s over some distance.
Old wounds like this don’t just scar over effortlessly, no, but I believe they’ll find their way through it.
Love is relentless, right?
She looks up at him now, her face pale and her lips pressed together.
“Well? What was it?” I ask again. I can’t look away from the desolate yet loving expression in her eyes.
He hesitates before he looks at me and smiles.
“I said we both had to deal with Gramps’ meddling growing up, one way or another. And we could either let that define us or we could grow. Our decision.” Ethan glances down at me, his blue eyes softer than I ever imagined. “I told her I loved her and I always will.”
“It’s healthy to say it,” I tell him, pulling affectionately on his sleeve. “I’m proud of you, hubby.”
“It’s the fresh start my wife deserves, and so do I.” He squeezes my hand.