Chapter 34
Chapter Thirty-Four
Emily
“My sister has officially lost her damn mind!” Wyatt’s voice bellows from the bedroom, sounding like a man currently losing a wrestling match with a piece of silk.
I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror, clipping in a silver earring.
“Well, we knew that a long time ago,” I call back, a smirk tugging at my lips. “But what did she do now?”
“She’s makin’ me wear this dumb bow tie to match everyone else,” he huffs. I can hear the rustle of fabric and a frustrated grunt. “It’s pre-tied, but it feels like it’s tryin' to choke me.”
“Yeah, well, you’re a groomsman, Wyatt. You kinda have to wear it,” I say, leaning in to check my eyeliner.
“How do you even put these damn things on? The clip is backward. Such nonsense.”
His helplessness is almost adorable. It’s the only time I ever see the man out of his element, when he’s traded his flannels and work boots for formal wear.
I laugh inwardly, rolling my eyes at the ceiling. “Come here. Let me do it for you.”
Stepping out of the bathroom, I smooth the front of my dress, and Wyatt freezes. He’s standing by the edge of the bed, his white shirt half buttoned and the offending bow tie dangling from one hand.
His eyes land on me and track slowly from the hem of my pale blue satin gown all the way up to where the neckline plunges low enough to make his heart stop.
The air in the room is suddenly charged with the kind of electricity that makes the hair on my arms stand. The gooseflesh prickles up each one.
“Jesus, woman.” He sallows hard. “How am I supposed to function in this wedding with you looking like that?”
“Careful,” I tease, heat blooms between my legs because Wyatt Miller in a tux is its own, special kind of torture right now. I step toward him, taking the bow tie from his hand. “Or you might not make it to this wedding at all.”
“Baby,” Wyatt murmurs, his hands finding my waist, thumbs tracing the smooth satin over my hips. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be this evening than right here, in this bed doing an absurd amount of obscene things to you.”
The heat rushes to my thighs, and I squeeze them together.
I reach up, looping the strap around his neck, and focus on the clasp. I’m trying to stay steady, but it’s hard when he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world right now. My fingers brush against his throat, and I notice his pulse is jumping.
“There,” I whisper, patting the bow. “All set.”
His hands move up my waist, and his tongue slides languidly into my mouth.
“Wyatt! Emily! You ready?” Kassie hollers up the stairs.
Wyatt drops his head back with an exaggerated groan. “I hate my fucking sister.”
I giggle, smoothing the lapels of his jacket, and step back out of his reach. “No, you don’t. Now, play nice. It’s Sarah’s big day.”
“It’s gonna be a long damn day,” he grumbles, though he catches my hand and squeezes it tight as we head for the door.
Kassie has officially outdone herself. Walking across the yard toward the South Barn feels like stepping into a dream. The evening air is crisp, carrying the scent of pine trees and the faint, sweet perfume of the lilies she spent all morning obsessing over.
As we step through the massive timber doors, I’m momentarily floored.
The once rustic, neglected vibe of the barn has been replaced by sheer elegance.
White bunting drapes over the ancient cross beams, and hundreds of fairy lights are warming the inside of the old relic, turning the rough-hewn wood into gold.
I stop dead, spinning slowly to take in her handiwork. “Wow.”
From the outside, the barn looks modest, but Kassie has managed to fit a long, communal wooden table inside to seat all thirty guests.
Chuck and Sarah aren’t ones for a circus. They’d opted for a private courthouse ceremony at the county hall this afternoon and are now on their way back to celebrate with a cocktail evening for their nearest and dearest right here at the ranch.
Wyatt catches me admiring the transformation, a proud glint in his eye. “She did good, huh?”
“She did more than good. Wyatt, this is stunning,” I answer, still turning in a slow circle, a little sad that Owen doesn’t want to turn this into a full-time thing here.
I think Kassie’s really on to something.
He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to my lips, his voice dropping to a smolder. “Well, maybe we could put her services to good use ourselves someday, huh?” He smiles against my mouth, the suggestion hanging in the air.
I’m about to respond to that ever-so-tiny bombshell when my attention is piqued by a rustling from the hayloft above. We both flick our eyes upward to find Alex sitting among the rafters in his Sunday best, looking incredibly serious as he cradles two scruffy-looking kittens.
“Son, what in the world are you doin’ up there?” Wyatt calls out, with a wary amusement.
Alex is shuffling along the rafter. Delicately holding on to the cats.
“I moved the kittens up here so the wedding wouldn’t disturb them,” Alex explains solemnly, adjusting his grip on the squirming furballs.
Wyatt looks at me with an exasperated gaze, but I tap him lightly on the chest. “Pick your battles, baby.” I lift my head to Alex. “Okay, well, make sure they stay up there and don’t get underfoot, sweetie.”
Alex nods, rearranging the little creatures into a nest of burlap.
Just then, the reinforcements arrive. The wranglers file in wearing their Sunday suits.
Even Mike and Jax have committed to the theme, looking uncharacteristically polished.
Kassie starts ushering in the waiting staff she’s hired, and looks equally breathtaking in a deep green evening gown of her own.
The staff weaves through the small crowd with trays of champagne.
Wyatt seizes his chance, grabbing the first two flutes.
“I’m gonna need a lot more of these,” he mutters, already looking like he’s breaking a sweat in the formal wool of his suit. He hands me a glass. “Cheers, baby.”
“What are we cheersin’ to?” I ask, caught by the wicked glint in his eye.
He shrugs, and I suddenly feel a warmth in my cheeks that’s too soon to blame on the champagne. “Oh, I don’t know. I just feel like we’ve finally got a lot to celebrate lately, don’t you?”
“We sure do.”
His hand slides to the back of my neck to pull me in for another satisfying kiss.
“Okay, lovebirds! I know this is a wedding and all, but let’s save some attention for the happy couple before you start devouring each other in my barn!” Kassie’s voice cuts through our bubble, hands on her hips as she grins at us.
I laugh, stepping back as the sound of a truck horn echoes from the driveway.
“They’re here!” Alex shrieks from the loft.
Everyone grabs another champagne from the hovering trays, and as the happy couple enters the barn, cheers are reverberating from the rafters.
Sarah looks absolutely beautiful. She’s opted for a simple lace sheath dress that hugs her in all the right places. Her dark hair is pulled back with tiny, delicate wildflowers tucked into the braid. She looks like an angel that belongs in these mountains.
Chuck looks like he already won the lottery, and he’s just waiting for the check to clear. He has one arm hooked firmly around Sarah’s waist, a grin plastered on his face that’s so wide it looks painful.
I feel Wyatt’s hand tighten on mine. I glance up at him, and the way he’s watching them makes my heart do a slow, heavy roll in my chest.
Sarah and Chuck finally make their way over to our corner, and up close, the glow on them is almost blinding.
“Sarah, you look incredible.” I beam, truly meaning it.
Wyatt claps Chuck on the back with a grin that says more than words could. “Congrats, man.”
Sarah’s face is alight with pure delight as her gaze sweeps around the transformed barn. “Kassie, this place looks incredible! Thank you so much!” she squeaks, pulling the Miller firstborn into a tight, bone-crushing hug.
Kassie looks visibly relieved, the tension finally leaving her shoulders as she takes a long, deserved sip of champagne. Her work here is done, and she’s clearly ready to enjoy the spoils.
From where I’m standing, I notice Mike watching her, his gaze lingering on her throat as she tips the glass to her lips. He swallows hard, and a strange shadow crosses his face before he abruptly turns away to talk to one of the guys.
“Did you see that?” I elbow Wyatt.
His head snaps around, eyes narrowed. “See what?”
I immediately regret the nudge. Wyatt is many things, but ‘subtle’ when it comes to his sister isn't one of them. Drawing attention to the way his best friend is looking at Kassie right now is probably like handing a toddler a hosepipe.
“Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about it,” I say quickly, smoothing the silk of my dress.
We all find our seats as the cocktail hour dissolves into a rowdy, heartfelt celebration. The long wooden table is a masterpiece of rustic charm, but the atmosphere is pure ranch. The barn is filled with the mouth-watering smell of smoked brisket and expensive bourbon.
Mike and Jax are seated directly across from us, already three sheets to the wind and locked in their usual competitive shit-talking.
Jax leans back, squinting at Mike through the amber liquid in his glass. "I gotta ask, Mike. Is that thing on your lip a permanent fixture, or did one of the barn cats shed on you while you were nappin'?"
I can’t help but snort a laugh. Jaxon may have been a tiny terror as a kid, but he was always funny as hell.
Mike slowly wipes a smudge of BBQ sauce from the corner of his mouth. His chest puffs out a fraction. "This right here? This is a masterpiece. It took three months of precision grooming to get this kind of thickness."
Jax snorts, shaking his head. "It looks like a caterpillar lookin' for a place to die. You should shave that disaster before you scare the bridesmaids away."
Mike shoots a wink toward me before leveling Jax with a smug grin. "Jealousy is a bad color on you, Jax. At least I can grow one. You hit thirty soon, and you’re still rockin' the face of a twelve-year-old choir boy."