16. Hunter
Chapter sixteen
Hunter
My heart is still pounding after our almost-kiss, and my subsequent desire to punch my brother.
Even as we eat Thanksgiving dinner and go through the motions of saying what we’re thankful for, my heart thunders.
Because Ellie’s beside me and I’m going to make her my lawfully wedded wife, and then I’ll get to kiss her for real.
Though something tells me our public wedding kiss will lack some of the heat promised in the laundry room.
Wyatt …
After dinner—which is really at lunchtime, and I’ve always wondered why we call it dinner—Georgia goes to excuse herself, “I gotta lay down before dinner with my parents tonight,” she says.
Rosie, who has absolutely no chill, widens her eyes and blurts, “No!” She clears her throat, “I mean, not just yet, Georgia. We’re fixin’ to go for a walk.”
Georgia opens her mouth to protest, but Wyatt puts a hand on her arm, “Do you feel well enough to stay for a very short walk?” They stare at each other for a beat too long, as if silently communicating—something married couples should be able to do, not two “platonic” best friends.
“I just need a minute,” Georgia says. “Maybe a heating pad and I’ll be good.”
“Pain level?” Wyatt lowers his voice, clearly wanting it to be just for her, but since I’m right next to him, I hear it too.
“I’m fine.” Georgia huffs a quiet laugh, her cheeks pinking. I don’t know all the details about what she’s dealing with, but I know she’s had some health problems and she’s shy about it.
“That wasn’t the question,” Wyatt says. I get up from the table to give them a minute to themselves. I’d love Georgia to be there, but if she’s not, that’s okay too.
Ellie’s made herself scarce as we all get ready for our “walk.” There’s a pretty little clearing in the woods outside our house, and Rosie’s telling everyone she has something she wants to show them out there.
Thank God for Rosie.
I changed into my dress blues—the dark navy jacket sitting stiffly across my shoulders, the white belt cinched tight over my waist and fastened with a sharp brass buckle.
The blue trousers fell cleanly with a red stripe running down each leg, pressed so sharply that the creases looked permanent.
I tuck my cap under my arm, feeling the weight of it there like a reminder of who I’m supposed to be in this uniform.
This is the most important assignment of my career.
The rest of the crew has already started the walk, but Georgia and Wyatt are behind with me. Georgia’s eyes widen at the sight of me in my formal wear. Wyatt leans down and whispers to her, “You’re going to be glad you stuck around.”
We step outside, the air crisp but blessedly not too cold for late November.
We lumber slowly through the woods, my mom pointing out little birds while Rosie jabbers about nothing and everything.
I feel like we’re moving too slowly and too fast all at the same time.
I’ve had more poise facing down enemy combatants than I have right now in this walk through the woods.
Finally, we reach the clearing.
A few short rows of chairs are lined up on either side of a flower-lined aisle.
That morning, as Wyatt and I set up the chairs, Rosie and Cleo hung a pair of gauzy curtains from the tree branches.
They hang down in a little canopy, strung with battery-operated twinkle lights and some fake vines and flowers.
It looks like something from a fairy tale.
I knew instantly that Ellie would love it.
A chaotic murmur breaks out among the group as they realize what’s happening here. Only our parents, Rosie, Cleo, and Wyatt knew the truth about our surprise wedding. Grandma DeeDee smirks at me, as if she’d planned this herself. “It’s about time,” she says as she sits in the front row.
Asher grumbles good-naturedly about always being the last to know things, while my cousins, Raquel and Bethany, give me hugs.
“I wish Henry were here,” Raquel says. Her new boyfriend—who she tries very hard to pretend she’s not obsessed with—is a firefighter and is on duty today.
Beckett and Sadie—recently engaged—stare at each other all moony-eyed.
And it makes me wonder if Ellie could ever look at me like that too.
Wyatt takes his place at the end of the aisle and with a hammering heart, I go to stand with him.
And wait.
My family and friends chatter in stunned excitement, but I don’t hear a word they say. I watch the path, waiting for Ellie to come down.
For a few sickening moments, I worry she’s changed her mind. I wipe sweaty palms onto my pants.
But then, there she is. Changed into a flowing white dress, her hair woven with flowers. The top of the dress is fitted with lace, showing her pregnant belly. The bottom is a gauzy material that makes her look like a dream. She looks like a literal angel, practically glowing.
When she reaches the beginning of the aisle, she pauses, giving me a shy smile. My heart stutters in my chest, and I have to fight the swelling emotions.
“Daddy?” she calls and her dad, in a trance himself, hustles to her. She takes his elbow as Cleo plays JVKE’s golden hour from a little Bluetooth speaker. The sound comes out a little tinny, but it does nothing to take away from the magic of the woman of my dreams walking toward me.
This moment is, in many ways, not at all like I’d pictured it. And yet, it’s absolutely perfect.
Ellie’s finally in front of me. I reach for her, and her dad takes my outstretched hand and clasps it with Ellie’s. “Take care of my girl, Hunter,” he says, his voice rough with emotion, likely remembering the last time he’d trusted a man with his only daughter.
This time things couldn’t be more different.
I hold his gaze. “I always do, sir.” He gives me a brief nod in confirmation, before walking back to his seat.
Love is like riding a bike, JVKE sings from the speaker. Scary, but then it’s alright.
And I think: I sure hope that Jake guy is right.
“Well, kids, should we do this thing?” Wyatt says, clapping his hands together as if we’re about to play dodgeball—and not get married.
I shake my head, but Ellie’s smiling, tears in her pretty brown eyes. Wyatt says a bunch of things that I’m sure are meaningful, but all I can think about is Ellie’s hand in mine and what’s really happening.
It’s not at all how I imagined it. But I’m willing to sacrifice my dreams and desires to protect Ellie and, hopefully, to make her happy.
Even if it’s never true love from her, I can live peacefully in a world where she’s just mine to protect and provide for—nothing more, nothing less.
It brings me joy to know that she’ll be taken care of.
Then, before I know it, Wyatt is pronouncing us husband and wife—and it’s time to kiss Ellie. To really, truly kiss her. Not imagine it, not almost do it. I get to kiss the subject of all my dreams.
I take a step toward her, one hand on her waist, the other moving to the back of her neck. I lean down slowly, her breath a feather on my lips. My mouth glides over hers, smooth and easy, and not nearly enough.
I told myself I would hold back, but now that I’m here, I can’t help it. I coax Ellie’s mouth open, which ignites something within her. She clutches at the belt around my coat, pulling me closer. I lose myself in the sugary scent of her, my fingers running through the silky strands of her hair.
All I want is more, but the moment is too short—too … something. She pulls back, that same shy smile on her perfect lips. Lips that were just on mine. “Hey there, husband,” she whispers.
I smile back, breathless. “Hey there, wife.”
We turn back to our friends and family, Ellie’s hand finding mine. We intertwine our fingers, as if trying to get strength for whatever’s ahead.
Because one thing’s for certain: this is just the beginning of this story.