Chapter Thirty-six
Thirty-six
Ryker
Afew weeks later, the sun dips low over Paradise Hill’s acreage, bathing the rows of vines in a coppery glow. Lights are strung above the courtyard, and for a moment, everything feels still, like time has slowed to let us enjoy Sadie and Beckett’s rehearsal dinner.
Guests fill the long tables, the air buzzing with clinking glasses and easy laughter.
I’ve been on my feet since mid-afternoon, helping Ginny wrangle place cards and reworking the seating chart after someone’s plus-one turned into a plus-three.
But it’s finally settling down, and I let myself breathe.
Across the courtyard, Beckett steps out of the crowd, holding two glasses of our family’s vintage. He heads straight to me. “Thought you might need a refill,” he says, handing me one.
“You trying to get me drunk the night before I give the best man speech?”
He cracks a grin. “You’re funnier with a buzz. Less likely to roast me.”
I take a sip, watching him. He’s quiet for a second, just looking over the crowd. “They’re all here,” he says, voice soft. “Even Caleb. I didn’t think he’d make it.”
“He wouldn’t have missed it.” I bump his shoulder. “You’re his brother too.”
Beckett nods, but his gaze drifts toward Sadie, who’s laughing with Caleb’s girlfriend, Katy, and Mom near the dessert table.
“She looks happy,” he says. “Like…really happy.”
“She is.”
He swallows hard, eyes glassy. “I didn’t think I’d get this. Mom and Dad set the bar so high. I didn’t think I could find something even close. I never thought love would look like this for me.”
I shake my head. “Beckett—”
“I know I act like I’ve got it all under control,” he continues. “But I don’t. I’ve spent years trying to make sure everyone else was okay, especially you. And now, I’m the one getting married, and it’s terrifying.”
“You’re allowed to be terrified,” I say. “You’re doing something big. Something that matters.”
He turns toward me. “What if I screw it up?”
“You won’t,” I say without hesitation. “You’ve already done the hardest part. You let someone love you. You let Sadie in.”
There’s something raw in his eyes. “You sure?”
“Absolutely.” I step closer, lowering my voice. “Sadie sees the guy the rest of us rely on. You’ve always been there for me, Beckett. I won’t forget that.”
For a second, I think he’s going to brush it off. Make a joke. But instead, he taps his glass against mine.
“Thanks,” he says. “That means a lot.”
We stand in silence, two brothers who’ve weathered enough storms to know this peace won’t last forever, but tonight, it’s ours.
Then Ginny appears from the patio, practically glowing, her hair twisted up and a soft flush on her cheeks. She spots me and waves, and I feel that pull again, like the Earth shifts a little when she’s near.
Beckett follows my gaze and smiles.
“You’re in deep, huh?”
“Drowning,” I admit.
“Good,” he says. “About damn time.” He chuckles. “Then I guess it’s time I welcome you to the club.”
I arch a brow. “The what now?”
He taps his glass to mine again. “The club of men who know they’re completely screwed because they’ve found the one person who makes the world make sense.”
I can feel myself smiling. I like that club.
As the last rays of sunlight slip behind the hills, we take our seats at the long dinner tables set up beneath the pergola.
The tables are draped in white linen, dotted with wildflowers in mason jars and flickering candles.
The wine flows easily, and the smell of rosemary chicken and grilled vegetables wafts in from the nearby catering tent.
Beckett stands at the head of his table and taps his glass with a fork.
“First of all,” he says, his voice carrying over the music, “thank you all for coming. I know some of you flew halfway around the world—” He nods to Caleb and Katy, who raise their glasses. “—and some of you just walked across the field. Either way, we’re glad you did.”
Sadie slips her hand into his. “We wouldn’t be here without two very special people,” she says, her voice a little wobbly with emotion.
“Our best man and our maid of honor, who have done everything from late-night planning texts to emotional triage when one of us”—she glances at Beckett—”decided to stress-organize the entire groomsmen’s tie situation. ”
A ripple of laughter moves through the crowd, but she’s looking only at Ginny.
“Gin, you’ve been my rock. You’ve kept me grounded when I started to spin out, and reminded me to laugh. I know this year hasn’t been easy for you, but I want you to know, your friendship means the world to me. So…I got you something, and I hope it reminds you how much I love you.”
She reaches beneath the table and pulls out a small, wrapped box.
Ginny’s cheeks flush pink as she takes it and carefully peels the paper back.
Inside is a delicate silver vintage jeweler’s loupe, not for daily use, but a beautiful, decorative one with a history and an engraved message that reads, “For the one who sees the real me.”
Ginny smiles as she holds it up. “It’s beautiful,” she says, blinking a few times before standing and pulling Sadie into a hug. “You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” Sadie whispers. “You always make other people feel seen. I wanted to make sure you felt that too.”
I should be relieved that someone else sees her worth, but part of me aches. Because I want to be the one who makes her look that way, find that peace. They hold on to each other for a moment, and something in Ginny’s face softens in a way I haven’t seen in weeks.
Then Beckett clears his throat and turns to me. “And Ryker,” he says, shooting me a crooked grin, “my little brother, my best man, and the one who somehow managed to keep this thing on the rails, even when I started checking guest lists at three in the morning.”
He’s exaggerating, so I laugh, and so does everyone else, but there’s real affection in his voice when he continues.
“You’ve always had my back, even when I didn’t deserve it. And I know I’m not always the easiest guy to work with, but knowing you were here—managing the madness, distracting Mom, making sure I didn’t forget the rings—that meant everything.”
He reaches under the table and hands me a slim, rectangular box. Inside is a custom-engraved pocketknife. Clean, black metal with a wooden handle. My initials are carved into one side, and on the other it reads, “For the one who always shows up.”
My throat tightens unexpectedly. It’s more than just a gift. It’s a reminder that someone sees the weight I carry and chose to honor it.
“Thanks,” I say because I can’t trust myself with anything more than that. I stand and give Beckett a one-armed hug, then pull Sadie in too. “You two are disgustingly perfect together, and I love you both.”
The crowd gives a collective “aww,” and Sadie fans her eyes to keep from crying again.
They both give a toast to Rosie Kennedy, Sadie and Ginny’s best friend from high school who passed away last year.
The rest of the dinner unfolds in waves—soft music, heartfelt conversation, and that warm buzz that only happens when so many people you love are in the same place at the same time.
Ginny runs her thumb over the jewelry loupe absently as we sit side by side.
Her smile is different now, softer, and freer.
She’s been through so much, and tonight, she finally seems at ease and truly herself.
And damn if that doesn’t make me fall a little harder.
Beckett catches my eye across the table and gives me a knowing nod.
I return the nod, then reach for Ginny’s hand beneath the table, threading my fingers through hers. Right now, everything’s just as it’s supposed to be.
As the song ends and the dance floor shifts into something faster, I move close to Ginny’s ear. “Come with me,” I murmur, scanning the crowd. I want nothing more than to forget the world and just keep her near tonight.
But then I spot Zach standing with Max. The music and laughter cover most of their voices, but I can see something in their faces—the clipped jaw, the stiff gestures, Max radiating that quiet authority that always rubs me raw. They don’t look like they’re discussing what a lovely party this is.
Zach shakes his head, like he’s trying to shove Max off, but Max just presses closer, saying something that makes Zach’s whole being tighten. A beat later, Zach mutters something and pushes past him, storming off across the lawn.
Plenty of people come and go at a party, but the way he leaves—rigid spine, fists balled, like he’s walking through land mines—sticks with me. It’s like I’ve just watched a fuse catch flame, and I don’t know how long it’ll burn before it blows.
Still holding Ginny’s hand, I spot Tarryn near the edge of the courtyard, talking with one of our cousins. I raise a hand and catch her eye. She frowns when she sees my face, excuses herself, and crosses over.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her party smile vanishing.
“Max just said something to Zach, and he took off with a purpose.”
Her expression hardens. “Did you see what direction?”
“Toward the staff lot behind the shed. I don’t think he saw me watching.”
“Let’s go,” she says. “Come on.”
Ginny looks between us. “Are we—?”
“We’re following him,” I confirm. “Because something’s not right, and I’m done waiting for the worst to find us.”