CHAPTER 36 Ford Bradley
I Do
Practice is interminable.
We run the same drill forty-seven times. That may be an exaggeration, but it doesn’t feel like one.
We need to be perfect on Sunday, according to Coach. The game doesn’t matter in terms of playoff berth, but every play still matters. We’re fighters here in Tampa, and we’re not going to throw in the towel just because the outcome doesn’t have an effect on playoffs.
I’m exhausted by the time we’re excused at one, and I eat a quick lunch at home, take a long shower, and get ready for tonight.
We’re meeting at the manor an hour before sunset so we can take photos both before and after. The photographer that Tatum hired is one she’s already put on her short list of favorite vendors, and I can’t wait to see how they capture this day.
It’s a day a decade in the making. One I never thought would happen for me. Yet here we are, and I’m fucking ready.
Cole arrives a little before four o’clock, and I leave him in my family room so I can finish getting ready.
He’s already dressed in his tux, and I’m not quite sure how Tatum worked her magic to get him a properly sized tux when I just asked him to be my best man a few nights ago, but that’s her. She gets things done. It might take three drinks and a bunch of chaos, but she gets it done.
It’s one of my favorite things about her, along with the smell of her hair and the taste of her cunt. That one taste that left me wanting more. An appetizer for what’s to come. It was fucking perfection.
And tonight, that cunt will be mine.
Fuck.
It’s hard to believe that I’m about to get everything I ever wanted, and I feel better after our conversation last night. I didn’t want to go into a marriage that was based on a fluke. I didn’t want to get everything I wanted because of someone else’s strange request.
And when she said she loves me too, that she chooses me…well, that was everything I needed to hear.
I find Cole sitting on my couch watching SportsCenter once I emerge dressed and ready to go.
“Looking good, bro,” he says.
“Thanks.”
“You sure about this?”
“Yes,” I say. “Never been more sure about anything in my life.”
“That’s the exact sort of enthusiasm I was looking for,” he says.
“You ready to go?”
He nods, and we head down to his car. He drives us to the manor, and Ms. Winston greets me at the door.
“Good evening, Mr. Bradley,” she says, opening it wider to let me in. I wasn’t sure she’d be here, but I suppose it’s better for her to greet me than my future bride since we’re not supposed to see each other before the ceremony.
“Ms. Winston,” I say, and I give her a short hug as I enter.
“Why did you two rush this wedding?” she asks.
I glance at Cole, and then I give her the most honest answer I can. “Well, we have a wedding scheduled for mid-January, so we were trying to abide by your terms.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Would you have married her without those terms?”
I nod solemnly. I didn’t think it would happen, and maybe the stars aligned and I got lucky. But hell yes, I would have. In a heartbeat.
“Okay, then,” she says. She holds up her hands, her palms facing me. “Treat her well, and I bless you with many happy years of marriage.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling surprisingly choked up at her words.
“You may go out to the gardens, where the photographer is waiting for you,” she says, holding a hand up toward the windows.
Cole and I head in that direction, and we pose for the photos, doing whatever the photographer asks. I wonder if Tatum is up in the bridal suite looking down at me. I wonder what she’s thinking. What she’s feeling.
I miss her.
It was strange waking up to an empty house before practice today.
I wonder if she misses me, too.
We head up to the groom’s suite, and shortly after that, Ms. Winston tells me it’s time. I head downstairs, and I walk into the ballroom to find that a few of the chairs are occupied.
She had once asked me for a guest list, and we both kept it small.
All the same, I spot her mom occupying one of the chairs with the one beside her empty—likely for her father, who’s about to walk his daughter down the aisle.
Her brother, his wife, and their baby take up others. Everleigh sits beside them.
That’s it. She’s the only representative from my family, and she’s here alone.
I wasn’t expecting her to be here, and my chest warms that someone cared enough to show up.
It makes sense, really. My brothers are in season, so they can’t just hop on a plane to Tampa in the midst of playoff runs. Archer could have, but he wouldn’t have.
My father isn’t here, most likely because he’s not allowed to leave the state since he’s out on bail.
I wouldn’t have wanted him here anyway.
I didn’t invite anyone from the team aside from Cole. I’m close with many of them, but this was never meant to turn into a spectacle, and inviting pro football players would have made it one.
So that’s it. A few witnesses. We’ll dine together afterward, and everyone can head home. Maybe they can even make it home before the clock strikes midnight, ringing in the new year.
I walk down the aisle as my eye catches Everleigh’s, and I take my place up at the altar. The pianist begins with some instrumental piece I recognize but can’t name as Cole escorts Kenzie down the aisle.
Once they’re in place, there’s a soft pause that causes my heart to thunder. The music changes, and another instrumental piece begins. I think it’s “Clair de lune.” I remember Tatum saying once that she always dreamed of floating down the aisle to that song.
The front doors burst open, and Tatum appears on the arm of her father.
She’s positively breathtaking. She’s wearing a white lace dress, simple and elegant, with long sleeves. Her hair is pulled back into a low bun with romantic waves and delicate flowers woven in.
My chest tightens, my heart thunders, and my nerves race.
She’s about to become my wife.
My wife.
The door closes behind them as she walks along the aisle toward me, and as her eyes connect with mine, a feeling of calm settles over me.
The thundering subsides, the nerves quiet.
It’s just the music, her, and me in this room.
She stops in front of me, the flowers in her hands trembling a little as if she’s trembling. She smiles at me, and it feels like everything is going to be okay.
We’re really doing this.
“Good evening, and welcome to the wedding ceremony celebrating Ford Bradley and Tatum Barker. Who gives this bride to be married to this man?” Cody asks.
“Her mother and I do,” her father says, and he reaches over to shake my hand. I pull him in and give him a hug.
This man is about to become my father-in-law. I don’t know him all that well, but I know he raised one hell of a daughter, and I know he’s a better father than the one I got.
He hugs me back before he joins his wife, and Tatum hands her flowers to Kenzie before turning to me and taking my hands in hers.
“Today Ford and Tatum will begin the next chapter of their relationship. They’ve known each other since high school, over a decade now, and they have spent much of that time getting to know one another.
When you know, you just know.” Cody glances at his wife, and she smiles.
He turns back to us. “Let’s get to it, shall we? ”
He flips the page in his book, and he starts to read from the script. “Do you, Ford, take Tatum to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
We decided to forego the formal vows, the old clichéd to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, and all that. We’re making a promise, and we both know what we’re promising.
“I do,” I say, and Tatum’s lips tip up into a smile.
God, I can’t wait to kiss her.
“And do you, Tatum, take Ford to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
She opens her mouth to form the words just as we all hear the front door as it’s thrown open and a voice yells, “Wait!” The figure is silhouetted against the light coming in from the front door, but I’d know that voice anywhere.
And as he rushes up the aisle to where we are, it’s confirmed.
“Archer!” Tatum gasps. “What are you doing here?”
He’s panting. “Tell me I made it on time. Tell me you didn’t go through with this.”
I’m still holding her hands in mine while my brother tells her not to marry me.
She glances at me, her eyes full of horror, before she turns back to him.
Nobody knows what to say.
A million thoughts race through my head. I should come up with something, anything, to say. To apologize for taking the woman that was his first. I want to be sorry for that, but I can’t seem to find it in myself to apologize for finally getting the one thing I’ve always dreamed of.
I keep my mouth shut.
“Am I too late?” he begs. “Tell me I’m not too late.”
He’s standing opposite Cody. The room is silent as Tatum looks from him, back to me, to Cody, to the small group gathered here to celebrate this day with us.
He’s not supposed to be here.
He should be back in Vegas. He ended it with her. Whatever his reasons were, he ended it. Too many times. She deserves better. Am I better? I’d like to think so. Better for her, anyway. I’ll treat her the way she deserves. I’ll help make her dreams come true. I won’t break her heart.
Although…he’s not too late. Not technically. She hasn’t said I do just yet.
I have.
I wait.
I hold onto every last shred of my patience as Tatum’s mouth opens and closes, as she tries to form the words, as she fights with what to do here, faced with her history pitted so clearly against the future that I can and want to give her.
Finally, she finally turns back to me, and I see the determination in her eyes, as if she just made a snap decision that she’s completely confident in. “I do.” She clears her throat and turns back to Archer. “You’re too late.”
He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, his head pointed toward the ceiling instead of toward us, as if he’s trying to draw strength from the heavens.
“You’re welcome to take a seat and join us as we celebrate our commitment,” Tatum says quietly, her voice surprisingly even despite the tremble in her hands.
“Fuck,” he mutters, and instead of taking a seat, he walks straight out of the manor.
Everleigh looks wildly between us and the front door that he left open, and she gets up to chase after him.
We’ll be fine. She knows this.
But Archer? That’s another story entirely.