31. Bonus scene
Bonus scene
“Ready?”
He stands beside me in a cream suit; a yellow rose tucked neatly into his lapel. His smile is there, bright and full of a quiet, stubborn hope, but I can see the nerves sitting just beneath it, tightening his shoulders and giving away everything he’s trying to hide.
Finn looks at me, his eyes wide and reflecting the amber glow of the setting sun, then out across the ocean where the water laps gently against the shoreline.
He draws in a long, slow breath, holding it in his chest before letting it out.
When he turns back to me, the grin spreading across his face is genuine, brilliant, and completely unshakable.
He nods, the tremor in his posture smoothing away into pure resolve.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
“Then let’s do this.”
Holding my arm out to him, he loops his arm securely with mine. I feel a slight tremor run through him, and I give him a small, reassuring squeeze against my bicep as we start walking down the path.
The venue is entirely of our own making, carved out of the wilderness right behind their home.
We’d spent the entire day building this together, stringing the fairy lights through the low-hanging pine branches, hauling chairs across the uneven grass, and stacking the small fire pits that now line the aisle.
Every light, every log, every seat holds a piece of our sweat and labour.
Standing here now, with the cool evening air carrying the scent of pine and woodsmoke, it feels worth every exhausting second.
As we step out onto the lawn, Mack catches my eye from where he stands near the front, and I give him a sharp grin.
Callan are right beside him, standing tall with Hale, my son, at his side, and I send him a quick, reassuring wink.
I shift my gaze forward, looking for Deck, but for a second, I don’t see him.
The golden hour is bleeding across the sky, spilling over the ocean in thick streaks of amber, crimson, and violet, the water catching every fiery color as the sun sinks lower into the horizon. The fire pits crackle beside us as we walk, their comforting warmth brushing against our skin.
And then I finally see Deck, his back to us. I quickly look at Finn, and I know he has just seen him, and I hear his breath catch, as he takes him in.
We’re all dressed in full Canadian Military Mess Dress bolero jackets, our regiment-coloured cummerbunds sharp against crisp white shirts, black ties, and trousers. Our boots are polished to a mirror shine; you can see your own reflection in the toes if you look close enough.
I have to say, the six of us clean up pretty fucking well.
I glance over at CJ, who stands next to Deck. He’s watching Finn with a quiet, proud smile, but then CJ’s eyes dart to Deck, noticing that he isn’t looking at us at all. He says his name softly under his breath, and then I watch as Deck slowly, almost hesitantly, turns around.
His eyes lift, and the second they find Finn walking toward him down the aisle, I watch as the air completely leaves his lungs.
Deck’s face crumples with a happiness too big, too raw to contain. Tears spill over his eyelashes before he can even blink them back, tracking hot and fast down his cheeks. Every single person standing in this clearing feels it, that gravitational pull, that absolute, undeniable certainty. Love.
He quickly swipes the back of his hand across his eyes, trying to compose himself as we near the altar, but I glance at Finn and realise he isn’t much better. Tears are falling silently down Finn’s face too, though a soft, radiant smile sits effortlessly on his lips.
I step up, give Deck a firm, bone-crushing handshake that says everything words never could, and gently place Finn’s hand into his. Job done.
I step back into line to stand beside Hale, turning to face the ceremony… and completely and utterly forget how to breathe.
Jack.
He is standing just a few paces away, serving as Finn’s best man.
The dying sun washes over him, painting warm, liquid gold across his skin, turning the stark edges of the past year into a distant, faded memory.
His short wavy, black hair catches the light at the ends, almost glowing like he’s stolen fire directly from the horizon.
And then his chocolate coloured eyes find mine.
Deep brown, warm enough to sink into and drown.
Every single instinct that I’ve spent years sharpening, every wall I’ve ever built to keep the world out, vanishes in the space of a single heartbeat.
My pulse kicks hard against my ribs, and sudden, heavy heat settles low in my gut.
Before I even realise what I’m doing, one-foot shifts forward toward him, a magnetic pull I’m powerless to stop.
He smiles when I catch myself. I snap my jaw shut, drag my gaze away, and force myself to look back toward Deck and Finn before anyone in the crowd notices I’ve just lost my mind for my boy in the middle of a wedding.
Jesus Christ.
I should be watching Deck and Finn exchange their vows. I should be listening to the quiet, choked up promises echoing across the water. Instead, every few seconds, my eyes drift right back to Jack as though they’ve finally decided they don’t belong anywhere else.
He stands quietly, a faint, tender smile touches the corners of his mouth as he watches his friends promise each other forever. He isn’t trying to draw attention. He’s standing still, hands clasped loosely in front of him, but somehow, he has all of mine.
I hear Reid speak. He’s apparently ordained, and when Finn found out, he demanded the cowboy officiate the wedding. Reid had agreed, as long as Luca could attend as well. So, here we are. Luca stands next to Callan, and Reid is officiating the wedding.
“Finn. Do you take Deck, your lumberjack, to be your lawfully wedded partner, through every storm, every fight, and every quiet morning, to love him fiercely and refuse to let him go, for as long as you both shall live?”
Finn grins, his voice thick with emotion as he slides the ring on Decks finger, “I do, always.”
Reid leans forward, whispering loudly to Finn, “you sure?”
Finn slaps him, pulling an ooof from Reid. “Get on with it,” he growls as he looks back at Deck, his smile wide.
“Deck. Do you take your little one, Finn to be your lawfully wedded partner, to have his back against the world, match his stubbornness, and stand beside him through everything, for as long as you both shall live?”
Deck smiles softly “I do.”
Reid smiles, “Excellent,” and then says, “then, by the power vested in me, I declare you husband and husband, and by the family we built out of fire and blood… kiss each other already.
As Deck and Finn give us a R-rated kiss, I hear wolf whistles and applause surround me, but all I see is my dove. He’s watching the kiss, laughing and clapping, but then he stops, and looks at me again.
Not past me. Not around me. Right at me.
The world instantly narrows, collapsing down to the stretch of air vibrating between us.
My pulse slams against my ribs again, and every breath feels suddenly too shallow, too thin to sustain me.
His lips part just enough for me to catch the hitch in his breathing, and a sudden, subtle shiver rolls through his frame.
He blinks once, almost like he’s shaking himself awake from a dream, and tears his gaze away to look back at the ceremony.
I don’t.
I can’t.
* * *
The ceremony finishes up with applause, cheering, and the sharp pop of a champagne cork, but my internal compass doesn’t move an inch away from Jack.
When the applause finally rings out for Deck and Finn, the crowd shifts, breaking apart into small groups as people move toward the long wooden tables set up near the water.
Fairy lights flicker to life above us, casting a warm, magical glow over the laughing faces of my brothers, the makeshift dance floor, and the sprawling spread of food.
I find myself lingering near the edge of the pavilion, a glass of scotch heavy in my hand, watching Jack talk with Hale.
Seeing my dove laughing, truly laughing, with colour in his cheeks and an easy posture, still feels like a miracle.
Every time Jack turns his head, every time his dark eyes sweep across the clearing and catch mine through the flickering light of the fire pits, the air between us pulls taut like a guitar string tuned one turn too high.
“You’re staring,” a low, amused voice murmurs beside me.
I don’t look away from Jack. I just take a slow sip of my drink, feeling the burn of the alcohol as it slides down my throat. “Shut up, Mack.” I take a sip of my drink, “I’m worried, if I blink, he’ll disappear.”
Mack chuckles softly, leaning his shoulder against the wooden post next to me. He follows my line of sight across the lawn, watching Jack as he helps Hale balance a precarious stack of glasses.
“Can’t blame you,” Mack says quietly, his tone losing its teasing edge and dropping into something genuine. “Look at him, Silas. A year ago, I didn’t think we were pulling him out of that hole alive. Now look at him standing out here in the open air.”
“I know,” I mutter, my fingers tightening so hard around the crystal glass I think it might fracture. “I see it every second.”
“Then go get him,” Mack advises, clapping a heavy hand once against my shoulder before pushing off the post and wandering toward the bar. “You’ve been staring across this yard like a wolf guarding a ridge for an hour. Go talk to your boy.”
I take one final breath, setting the unfinished glass down on a nearby table, and start walking across the grass.
As I get closer, Hale catches my approach, shoots Jack a knowing, conspiratorial look that is far too sharp for a kid his age and casually excuses himself to go find CJ by the bar, probably to try and talk him into letting him have a beer.
Jack watches him go, a faint pink dusting the tops of his cheekbones before he slowly turns his face up to meet mine.
The space between us vanishes until there are only inches left.
“You’ve been staring at me all night, Chief,” Jack whispers, a teasing, breathless lilt to his voice that makes every drop of blood in my body rush straight south.
“I wasn’t staring,” I correct him, my voice dropping low, rough around the edges as my hand reaches out, my knuckles gently grazing the sharp line of his jawline. His skin is warm, soft, completely alive beneath my touch. “I was making sure you didn’t disappear.”
Jack leans instinctively into my palm, his eyes fluttering shut for a fraction of a second as he breathes out a shaky sigh. “I’m right here, Sol. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Damn right you aren’t,” I murmur, my thumb tracing the curve of his cheekbone down to his bottom lip, feeling him shiver under the simple friction.
Dove laughs quietly against my palm, “You think you can stand there looking like that in full uniform and not expect me to lose my mind?”
A soft, wicked little smile tugging at the corner of my mouth, “Is that what happened during the vows? You looked like you forgot how to read your own name.” I ask.
“I forgot everything except you,” He admits, raw and unfiltered,
I look at my boy, and I step closer, closing the final inch of space, my chest pressing against his hard body. The gold ring on my pinkie finger brushes against his lapel as my arms wrap securely around his waist, pulling him flush against me where he belongs.
Around us, the party swells, music drifting across the water, laughter echoing under the pine trees, and Deck and Finn sharing their first official dance as married men a few metres away. But none of it matters.
Jack’s arms slide up, his fingers tangling softly into the hair at the nape of my neck as he pulls me down just a fraction.
“Dance with me,” he whispers against my mouth, the request catching the warm evening breeze.
“I thought you’d never ask, my dove,” I murmur, and as the slow, heavy rhythm of a distant song washes over the clearing, I pull him into the centre of the lights, holding my entire world safely in my arms where no shadow can ever reach him again.