Chapter Thirty-Five ADAM
Chapter Thirty-Five
ADAM
Nothing good ever starts with a frazzled Lilly running at full speed in heels.
She flags me down mid-march across the back deck, weaving through people hauling chairs and crates of flowers down the flagstone path. Her heels click against the wood, and she skids to a stop in front of me.
“We can’t find Carter,” she pants, holding her side. “Photo guy needs to take his solo shots.”
I know better than to comment on that. “Did you call him?”
She glares at me like I asked her to smile more. “Straight to voicemail.”
“I’m on it,” I say and give her a mock salute.
The scene inside is slightly chaotic. Caterers sprint between the kitchen and the backyard, where the open linen tent is halfway up, fabric flapping in the lake breeze. Someone is arguing by the cake table. Loudly.
After a few minutes, I finally spot Logan near the hallway, talking to some of the guests who’ve trickled in early. His posture straightens when I catch his eye. His military instincts cut in, and he excuses himself and stomps behind me.
“Do you think Martha scared him away?” I ask as we make our way upstairs.
“I don’t think he’s that stupid,” Logan smirks, tugging open a nearby door. Empty linen closet.
I yank open another door that leads to a Carter-less library. “Then I don’t want to be the one to tell her we lost the groom.”
Logan snorts. “Doesn’t surprise me that little old ladies trigger your flight response.”
“You’re throwing a lot of stones for someone who hid in a wardrobe at the last gala to avoid Blanca’s mother.” It’s so satisfying to wipe that smug smirk off his face. “Maybe you should let her set you up with her daughter.”
He freezes with his hand on a door handle, glaring at me. “How did you…” He smooths out his lapels, sneering. “We should split up. I’ll check the studio out back. You keep looking around here.” After a pause, he adds, “try the attic too.”
“Oh, no. Don’t leave me. We’re having so much fun.” I smile at him.
Logan flips me off as he walks away, grunting.
Turning the corner, I make my way toward the short flight of stairs that leads to the quiet little nook overlooking the lake.
And sure enough, there’s our vanishing groom, sitting on the bench, staring out at the wedding preparations underway at the edge of the water.
The golden tie pin between his fingers glints in the mid-morning sun.
“Didn’t take you for a jewelry guy.”
Carter startles slightly and snaps out of whatever thoughts had him looking miles away. Then he gives me a bitter smile. “It was Dad’s.”
He turns it over, silent for a moment. “Mom thinks I should honor him somehow. On my wedding day.”
Not the topic I’d pick for this wedding morning. “No one would blame you if you didn’t.”
He shrugs, focused on the gold piece. “It doesn’t mean anything to me. Not anymore. I’ll wear it for her, but…” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Got me thinking about their marriage.”
The room fills with the heavy memory of Carter’s fraught relationship with his dad. In the silence, I can feel the tension rolling off him.
I step inside and sit beside him on the discolored pillows, the wood creaking beneath us.
“Cold feet?” I ask, only half joking.
He doesn’t laugh. Just rubs his hands together, more distraught than I’ve seen him in a long time. “I don’t want to screw it up.”
“Carter…” I shake my head. “Of all the people I know, you’re statistically the least likely to mess up your life.”
His chuckle is mirthless. “I nearly lost everything once. Let’s not pretend it didn’t happen.”
I glance at him. This man, who’s always been the grounded one. My brother, in every way but blood. A solid presence in my life for the past fifteen years, who I could always count on, no matter how badly I screwed up. He’s a man drowning in the weight of wanting to do everything right.
“I like to think you’re a man who learns from his mistakes.” I rest my head on the wood framing the lookout. “Eliza’s willingness to marry you should tell you that much.”
He nods, slow and uncertain. “I want to give her the perfect life.”
“Perfect is overrated,” I say, thinking of Jackie and the uneven road back to each other. “Genuine and present? That lasts longer.”
Carter turns, stare narrowing like he’s seeing me in a different light.
“But what do I know?” I laugh. “Not married yet. I’m just the best man.”
Carter stands, brushing off invisible lint from his pants. I mirror him, relieved that I won’t have to meet a possibly heartbroken Eliza.
He doesn’t speak. He just stands there, gaze suspiciously bright. Looking for something to say, but maybe silence is enough for now.
“That you are,” he chuckles at last, the sound coming out a bit strangled. Then, with no warning, he steps forward and pulls me into a fierce hug. “Thank you.”
I grip his shoulder and hold him for a moment.
“Let’s go make you a husband,” I say, voice croaky.
Glancing back through the window, the setup looks complete. I spot a fleeting blue flurry of fabric ducking into the tent and hear the first notes of a violin warming up.
I need to hurry.
The hunt for Jackie brings me to the side of the white iron-wrought gazebo, where the band is tuning up for the ceremony.
She had it brought from their childhood estate. For two siblings who used to mock anything remotely sentimental, this is one hell of a gesture.
At the top of the stairs, Jackie looks like a conductor. Focused and commanding, clipboard in hand.
“This is your cue to start,” she tells the lead violinist, taping her silver pen against the paper.
Unfortunately for Grace and her binders, Carter and Eliza actually went through with their plan for the small wedding at their home in Silver Lake Falls.
Clara was the hardest to convince, but if I’ve learned anything about the Rawlings over the years, it’s that they adapt.
Sometimes not so willingly, but that’s neither here nor there.
Jackie almost choked on her tears when Eliza asked her for help.
And now, for the past month, she’s been coordinating everyone with an iron fist, which I suspect she’s enjoyed even more than running the family company.
Between her and Quinn, they could orchestrate a royal wedding without breaking a sweat.
I take a second to admire the soft blue fabric flowing in the breeze, snaking around her hips, the slit of her dress flashing her leg when the wind picks up.
She anxiously taps the side of her hair while going over the clipboard one more time. My stressed hurricane in heels.
Her phone rings, and her tone instantly warms. “Don’t you worry about a thing. Everything’s ready.” Her wavy blonde hair bounces as she nods. “I’ll be right up. I have something borrowed to give you.”
Scanning the horizon, her brows are furrowed until she sees me, and her whole face lights up.
When she reaches me, I take her hand and steer her to the side of the house, to the one quiet spot I can think of.
“Adam,” she warns, in full business mode.
“Love of my life,” I counter, flashing a grin over my shoulder, as I pull her gently through the stone arch draped in vines.
“Eliza is waiting for me,” she says.
“This won’t take long.”
Her heels wobble on the crunching gravel, so I do the only sensible thing a gentleman should. I sweep her off her feet.
She giggles and squirms in my hold, curling closer. “Is this an excuse to carry me like a princess again?”
“Can’t risk another pair of shoes. We both know you’re chronically clumsy.”
“Venice doesn’t count!” she gasps, swatting my shoulder. “The cobblestones were wet!”
I carry her deeper into Eliza’s rose garden, pink, white, and golden blooms spilling along the path, the air thick with their scent. Each step muffles the distant band while Jackie melts into my arms.
At the stone bench tucked behind the hedge, I gently lower her down and sit, unable to stop staring at the vision that is this beautiful woman.
Sliding a hand into my inner pocket, I pull out a long velvet box.
Her breath catches.
“I didn’t get to give you something to wear for the wedding,” I murmur.
She glances with her impossible blue eyes from the box in my hand to me, lips slightly parted. When she takes it, she holds it in her lap, fingertips stroking the edge.
Seconds tick by. She finally opens it, and sunlight glints off the stones, dancing across her features.
She touches the diamonds on the necklace reverently. “It’s beautiful.” Then her gaze locks onto the pendant. She lifts the yellow teardrop diamond into her palm, pressing it to her lips. Closing her fingers around the stone, she brings her fist to her heart.
“The missing one.” The words come out heavy with emotion.
“Now your rainbow is complete.” I smile at her, feeling the surge of emotion choking me too.
Tears gather along her lashes, threatening to spill. “Is this your way of saying we fixed what was broken?”
“Let me help you,” I nod toward her neck and step over the bench.
Jackie gathers her hair to the side, exposing the curve of her shoulder. I can’t help but caress the nape of her neck, and goosebumps ripple across her back.
I fasten the clasp, but don’t pull away.
Instead, my fingers linger and trace the stones set in gold, teasing the edge of the pendant.
The faint scent of jasmine and honeysuckle climbing the trellis over the bench tangles with her perfume. But nothing compares with the particular way she smells. The way she feels. The quiet way she breaks me open.
“I got it in Venice,” I say, lips brushing her ear. “Because we make sense. Even when we pretended we didn’t.” I plant a tender kiss beneath her ear. “We always made sense, baby.”
She turns, dappled shadows painting her face in lace. I nearly come undone when she tears up.
“Shh.” I press my lips to hers, gentle and slow. “You’re going to ruin your makeup.”
Her hands find my jaw, thumbs brushing the corners of my mouth.
“Don’t care,” she sniffles. “I…can’t believe I’m so lucky.” Her watery laugh fills my soul. “I love you so much.”