Chapter 31
Rachel
Rachel couldn't stop crying.
Happy tears. Overwhelmed tears. This-is-what-love-looks-like-tears.
Cole and Ellie stood at the altar promising forever.
This, she thought, watching them exchange rings, this is what I was supposed to have with Brad.
But even as the thought came, she knew it wasn't quite true.
Because Brad had never looked at her the way Cole looked at Ellie. Had never fought for her. Had never chosen her, not really.
Brad had performed love.
Cole and Ellie had the real thing.
And maybe, Rachel's eyes found Mac at the altar, maybe she could have the real thing too.
Mac must have felt her gaze because he looked over. Their eyes met across the church, and he smiled.
She was going to tell him today. That she loved him.
Sophie caught Rachel's eye from the altar and winked. Like she knew exactly what Rachel was thinking.
The ceremony ended with a kiss that made the whole church cheer.
As people began filing out, Sophie appeared beside Rachel. "You're going to do it, aren't you? Tell him you love him?"
"How did you—"
"Please. I've known you for months now. That's your 'I'm in love and done being quiet' face." Sophie squeezed her hand. "Good. Do it. After the speeches. Don't chicken out."
"What if—"
"None of that. Rachel, that man is so in love with you it's actually painful to witness."
Rachel nodded, her pulse slightly raised. "Okay. After the speeches."
"Good girl. Now let's go. We have a reception to get to and a best man speech that Mac is going to absolutely nail while staring at you the entire time."
The Riverside Inn had been transformed into something magical.
Thousands of tiny lights hung from every surface; wrapped around columns, draped across the ceiling, wound through the floral centerpieces.
White roses and peonies overflowed from tall vases on every table.
The dance floor gleamed under soft lighting.
French doors stood open to the terrace, letting in warm May evening air that smelled like roses and fresh-cut grass and that particular green smell of spring.
Mac's hand found Rachel's lower back as they navigated through the crowd of well-wishers. Not guiding, exactly, more like grounding. His palm pressed warm through the thin fabric of her dress, his thumb tracing absent patterns against her spine.
Rachel shivered despite the warmth of the room.
"You okay?" Mac asked, leaning close so she could hear him over the music.
"Fine. Your hand—" She didn't finish the sentence.
"My hand?" Mac's thumb stilled.
"Keeps distracting me."
"Good distraction or bad distraction?"
Rachel looked up at him, saw the heat in his eyes, and felt her cheeks flush. "Very good distraction."
Mac's hand pressed more firmly against her back, pulling her marginally closer as they moved through the crowd. "Then I'll keep doing it."
They found their table, and Mac's hand didn't leave her back until she sat down. Even then, his fingers lingered for a moment on her shoulder blade before finally letting go.
"You're being very tactile tonight," Rachel observed.
"You're wearing a dress that makes me want to keep my hands on you." Mac sat beside her, his knee immediately pressing against hers under the table. "Also, I've been wanting to touch you all day and the ceremony required appropriate public behavior."
"And now?"
"Now I can touch you all I want." His hand found her knee under the table, warm and solid. "Within reason. We are at a wedding."
Rachel bit her lip, and Mac's eyes tracked the movement.
"Don't do that," Mac said, his voice slightly rough.
"Do what?"
"Bite your lip like that."
"Why?" Rachel did it again, deliberately this time.
Mac's grip on her knee tightened. "Because it makes me want to bite it for you."
Rachel's breath caught.
"Later," Mac murmured, leaning close to her ear. "When we're alone, I'm going to—"
"MAC!!" Jamie's voice boomed across the reception hall, breaking the moment. "Best man, I need you for a moment!"
Mac groaned but stood, pressing a quick kiss to Rachel's temple. "Hold that thought."
Rachel watched him walk to the front, her skin still tingling where he'd touched her, and thought: Later can't come fast enough.
The food was incredible; Sophie's doing, obviously. Tiny quiches, bruschetta with fresh basil, stuffed mushrooms, bacon-wrapped dates.
Across the table, Cole and Ellie had turned eating chili dogs, Ellie's pick after vetoing pizza, into some kind of romantic comedy scene. They were feeding each other messy bites, laughing when chili landed on Cole's shirt, completely lost in their own world.
"They're disgustingly cute," Jamie said from Mac's other side, taking a sip of champagne.
"You're just jealous," Luke said through a mouthful of salmon.
"I'm not jealous. I'm... content with my bachelor status."
"You're pining after Sophie and pretending you're not," Tyler said flatly from down the table.
Jamie choked on his champagne. "I am not—"
"You've looked at her seventeen times since we sat down," Tyler continued in that same deadpan voice. "I counted."
"That's not—I was just—"
"Seventeen," Tyler repeated.
Mac and Rachel exchanged amused glances.
The speeches began. Sophie stood up first, champagne glass in hand, and launched into a story about Ellie pushing her off the monkey bars in second grade, which earned laughs.
But then her expression softened, and she talked about how Cole truly saw Ellie; not just the competent PT, but the woman who stress-bakes at 2 AM and cries at dog videos.
"Real love shows up," Sophie said, her voice thick with emotion. "Every single day. In the boring moments and the hard moments. Real love chooses you anyway."
Rachel felt Mac's hand tighten around hers under the table.
Then Mac stood up.
The room quieted as Mac accepted the microphone from Sophie. His hands shook slightly before he steadied himself.
Mac's speech started with humor, something about Cole being Ellie's most stubborn, grumpy patient, which earned laughs and Ellie's enthusiastic nodding. But then his tone shifted, grew serious.
His eyes found Rachel's across the room.
He talked about love requiring trust, patience and vulnerability. Showing up every day, even when it's hard. And the entire time, he was looking at her.
Rachel could barely breathe.
When Mac raised his glass: "To Cole and Ellie. May you have a lifetime of choosing each other", the room erupted in applause.
Cole immediately pulled him into a hug. "Perfect speech, man."
But Mac was already looking at Rachel again.
Mac
The reception continued. Dinner was served, that incredible meal Sophie had orchestrated. Cole and Ellie cut the cake. The DJ started playing music, classic stuff, Motown and oldies that got the older crowd dancing.
Mac was at the bar getting drinks when Jamie appeared beside him, both of them finally starting to relax.
"Told you Matthews was all talk," Jamie said, nursing a beer. "Got his attention on TV. That was enough for his ego."
"Maybe." But Mac still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling.
"Mac, relax. The ceremony was perfect. The speeches were great. Matthews is probably back in whatever expensive hotel he's staying in, congratulating himself on being a controversial prick." Jamie took another sip. "We won. He didn't show."
"You're right. I'm being paranoid."
"You're being protective. There's a difference." Jamie's eyes drifted across the room to where Sophie was managing the catering staff with her usual efficiency, laughing at something one of the servers said. "That's what you do when you care about someone."
Mac followed his gaze. "Jamie—"
"Don't." Jamie rubbed a hand over his face before answering. "I'm happy for you and Rachel. That's it."
"Sure. That's why you haven't stopped looking at Sophie since we sat down."
"Tyler's counting again?" Jamie groaned. "That guy's like a surveillance system."
"He's observant." Mac studied his friend. "Jamie, why don't you tell her?"
"Tell her what?"
"That you have feelings for her."
Jamie took a long drink of his beer, staring into the glass like it held answers. "Because Sophie deserves better than me."
"That's bullshit."
"Is it?" He wasn't smiling anymore. Wasn't even trying. "Mac, look at her. Really look at her."
Mac did. Sophie was in her element, directing servers, checking on guests, making sure everything ran smoothly. She'd planned this entire reception down to the smallest detail. And was a guest.
"She's got her whole life together," Jamie continued.
"Built a business from nothing. Takes care of everyone.
She's the most competent person I know." He set down his beer.
"And what am I? A hockey player for a small-town team who spends half his time reorganizing equipment rooms because I can't sit still.
I've got no plan beyond next season. No real skills outside of hockey. No... future."
"Jamie—"
"And even if I did, even if I were good enough, she sees me as the team's comic relief. That's all I am to her." Jamie's smile was self-deprecating. "You don't build a life with the comic relief, Mac. You build it with someone serious. Someone who has their shit together."
"You have your shit together."
"Do I? I'm twenty-six years old and my entire identity is small-town hockey. What happens when that ends? What do I have to offer someone like Sophie?" Jamie shook his head.
Mac wanted to argue, but he could see the genuine belief in Jamie's eyes.
"Besides," Jamie continued, his voice lighter now, forcing that playful tone back, "we're friends. Good friends. And I'm not going to ruin that by making things awkward with feelings she doesn't return."
"That's going to kill you."
"Probably."
Mac didn't know what to say to that. Because part of him understood: The terror of ruining something good by asking for something better.
"One thing, Mac," Jamie's voice turned real. "Don't be like me. You and Rachel, that's real. So don't overthink it. Tell her you love her."
"I will. Tonight."
"Good." Jamie raised his beer. "To being brave enough to take the shot, even when you're terrified."
They clinked bottles.
Before Mac could respond further, Rachel appeared beside them, looking nervous and beautiful and determined.
"Mac?" Her voice was soft. "Can we talk? Privately?"
Mac's heart kicked into overdrive. "Of course. Outside?"
Jamie gave him an encouraging nod, mouthing go as Mac stood.
They walked through the reception, past tables of guests laughing and eating, past the dance floor where Luke was teaching some of Ellie's relatives a complicated move that absolutely would not work, and out into the inn's garden.
The evening was perfect. Warm and soft, with that particular quality of late spring light that turned everything golden. Roses bloomed everywhere, the Riverside Inn was famous for its gardens. The scent was intoxicating.
Mac could hear music drifting from the reception. Sinatra, maybe. Or Michael Bublé.
Rachel turned to face him, backlit by the setting sun, and Mac thought he'd never seen anything more beautiful.
She was twisting her clutch, and had a slight tremor in her hands.
"Is everything okay?" Mac asked, suddenly worried.
"Everything's perfect." Rachel took a deep breath. "I need to tell you something. Something important."
"Okay.. You’re kinda scaring me here..."
And then Rachel smiled, that soft, genuine smile that made Mac's heart forget how to function.
"I love you."
Mac's world stopped. "What?"
"I love you, Mac." The words came faster now, like a dam breaking. "I'm in love with you. I have been for weeks. And I know it's fast, but I can't keep it in anymore. I don't want to wait for some perfect moment because this IS the perfect moment."
She stepped closer, her eyes locked on his.
"I love your patience," Rachel continued, the words tumbling out.
"I love your kindness and how you ramble when you're nervous.
I love that you read Pride and Prejudice, all four hundred pages.
I love that you bring me too many flowers every single week.
I love how you look at me like I'm the most interesting person in the world.
I love your terrible cat jokes and how you treat your team like family and how you made me feel safe when I didn't think I could feel safe again. I love—"
Mac kissed her.
Deeply, thoroughly, pulling her close and kissing her like he'd been waiting his entire life to do exactly this. His hands cupped her face, and Rachel melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, her clutch falling to the ground forgotten.
She tasted like champagne and chili dogs and happiness.
When they finally pulled apart, both breathing hard, Mac was grinning so wide his face hurt.
"I love you too."
"You do?" Rachel's eyes widened, searching his face for the catch.
"Are you kidding? Rachel, I've been trying to tell you for days. I had this whole plan for tonight. I was going to wait until after the dancing, find this perfect quiet moment, say something romantic."
"What were you going to say?"
"Doesn't matter now." Mac's thumb brushed away a tear on her cheek. "Because you beat me to it. And that's perfect. That's so fucking perfect."
He kissed her again, softer this time.
"Rachel Morrison," Mac said, pulling back so could see her face, "I am so completely in love with you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.”
She kissed him again, and it took everything he had not to break.
They stood in the garden holding each other as the sunset faded to twilight, the sounds of the reception drifting out, laughter and music and celebration.
"Hey lovebirds!"
They broke apart to find Jamie standing in the doorway, looking delighted.
"They're cutting the—OH. OH!" Jamie's eyes widened as he processed what he was seeing. His face split into an enormous grin. "Did you two—"
"Yes," Mac said, unable to stop smiling. "We did."
"FINALLY!" Jamie pumped his fist in the air. "I'm telling everyone!"
"Jamie, wait—"
But Jamie was already gone, running back inside yelling at the top of his lungs, "THEY SAID I LOVE YOU! MAC AND RACHEL SAID I LOVE YOU!"
Rachel laughed, that bright, free sound that Mac loved. "Well. So much for a private moment."
"Do you care?"
"Not even a little." She kissed him softly, sweetly. "Come on. Let's go back. I want to dance with my boyfriend who I'm very much in love with."
"Boyfriend? That's official now?"
"Very official." Rachel took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Unless you don't want to be."
"I want. I very, very much want to be your official boyfriend." Mac pulled her close for one more kiss. "Come on."