Chapter 27 Dallas
Willow’s mother is stressing her out. It’s no wonder she was dreading moving in with her weeks ago.
It’s our wedding day. And I’m pretty damn sure there’s some rule against annoying the bride right before the ceremony.
The ceremony site is set by the oak tree behind my property.
Charlie, Rose, and a few members of our staff have been setting everything up.
There are rows of white folding chairs, evenly divided by the aisle—worn grass lined with pink rose petals—and bordered by weathered barrels on either side.
The tree is decked out in white mesh fabric interspersed with sprigs of willow.
It’s a clear day in November, but chilly. No one seems to mind though. Ginger’s got a station with warm cider for the guests to take a glass on their way in.
I adjust my collar, fighting the urge to step between Willow and Lucy Brooks—her mother, who introduced herself like someone I should know—and tear her away with an excuse.
“Leave them alone,” Dad says, handing me a whiskey. He, Wilder, and I are standing under the roof of my back porch. “Nothing good comes from stepping between a mother and her daughter.”
I frown.
“Remember Grandma Tilly?”
“Barely.”
“My point exactly. Let it go. They’ll work it out.”
“Yeah, fine,” I grunt and flick my gaze away from them.
We’re not exactly being traditional here, with Willow wanting to be out in the open before the ceremony—greeting early guests and directing the setup, taking this on together.
She’s stunning today, in a lace-trimmed knee-length white dress and a pair of cowgirl boots. Her hair is loose for the most part, with one thin braid on either side. Rose tucked what was left of the willow sprigs into her hair, like a half-moon crown.
I damn near died when I saw her.
“You doin’ all right otherwise?” Wilder asks.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I take a sip.
My brother glances at Dad like it’s obvious. “Like you said, this wasn’t the wedding you were expecting.”
I frown, nearly losing my grip on the glass. “I said that?”
Dad nods slowly, glancing at Willow.
The party seems such a long time ago, but he’s right. I did say that. Right after I kissed Willow for the first time. The moment I realized I was healing. I was moving on. And felt guilty for it.
Dad puts a hand on my shoulder. “She’s a good one.”
I know what he means. That if anyone were to replace that hole in my heart, she’s it.
I look at Willow again, her face lighting up when Ellie runs up to her. It’s contagious.
I don’t comment, but something tells me my look says it all.
She is it.
Noah steps onto my porch. He’s in a suit, as usual. Also as usual, he’s scowling. “Gentlemen.” He nods respectfully, but it’s mostly at my father. Then he pins me with those blue eyes. “Could we have a word?”
I take another sip, knowing what this is about. “No.”
He draws out the folded papers from his inside pocket. “Dallas, don’t be an idiot. Make her sign this.”
Dad curses under his breath. “For Christ’s sake, Noah, it’s the girl’s wedding day.”
“That’s why I sent it last week. Your son sent it back to my office—blank.”
I see Willow shake her head and walk away from her mother, leaving the woman frustrated.
Hell is her problem?
I turn back to Noah. “Dad’s not exactly big on prenups either, so you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“Dallas, this is a real marriage. With real assets at stake. Which means she’ll be entitled to half when you two split.”
Sharp pain tugs at my chest, but I don’t budge. “Put yourself in my shoes. Would you have made Charlie sign it?”
He jerks. “Charlie?” Then glances back at Willow taking pictures with Rose and Ellie. Her smile wide and real.
Understanding hits and he turns back. “No. It’s not the Reeves way. But fine, so you two have something going on, doesn’t mean you can’t protect yourself. You still don’t know anything about her.”
Dad holds up a glass for Noah. “Pipe down and have yourself a drink.”
“Oh good,” Willow chirps, bouncing up the steps with a shiver. “Something stronger than cider.”
“Keep you warmer too,” I tell her, handing her mine.
Noah clears his throat. “It’s getting a bit crowded here, I’ll see you out there. Congratulations again, you two,” he says flatly as he folds up the papers.
Willow gasps as she plucks the packet from his hands. “Is this our certificate?”
My heart plunges into my stomach when she unravels it. “Willow,” I step toward her, but she turns.
“I’m going to go see if Rose needs help.” Wilder races down the steps.
Dad follows with a heavy sigh. “I’ll go . . . try that cider.”
“Not the marriage certificate,” she mumbles, flipping through the pages. She looks up at Noah. “Got a pen?”
He whips one out in a hot second. I watch her profile as she props the last page up against the man’s chest . . . and signs it.
She doesn’t look hurt as she hands it back. In fact, I’m not picking up much of anything.
“Willow, I didn’t want—”
She presses her palm to the side of my face and lifts up to kiss my lips, soft and quick. “You worry too much. He’s just doing his job.”
I grip her wrist to keep her close for another moment. Kissing her a little more. “I’ll see you in a few.”
She grins back . . . but that light in her eyes has faded. She steps down.
I wait until she’s out of earshot before turning a sharp glare at Noah. “Tear it up.”
He laughs and tucks it into his jacket. “No way. You’ll thank me for this.”
“That looked intense,” Silas says when I make my way over to him. He’s standing a few feet behind the ceremony setup, watching Storm with Pickles, the pony Ellie chose to be the ringbearer.
I slip my hands in my pockets. “Do me a favor and help Storm tie these to the saddle. Think you can manage that without her stepping on you?”
“We talkin’ about the horse or the trainer?”
“Just don’t get trampled by either—especially while carrying these.” I hand him the rings.
He takes them and smirks.
I squint around the growing crowd. “How’s the shoulder?”
He stills. “Barely feel it anymore. Think it resolved itself.”
“Liar,” I rasp casually.
“Says the man about to walk down the aisle to win a custody battle.”
I wince without a sound, keeping my eyes focused on the decked-out oak tree.
“I love her,” I rasp out loud.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Silas glance over at me. Then he nods slowly, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m glad.”
I scoff. “That’s it? You’re glad?”
“Dal, a few months ago I could hardly say three words to you. No one could.” He shakes his head, still barely looking at me. “It was like you buried yourself with her.”
The soft strum of a guitar drifts through the air, signaling it’s almost time.
“Kid changed you,” Silas continues. “Gave you a reason to wake up, show up, brought some life back to your eyes. But with her . . .” His blue eyes shift to the redhead feeding Pickles a carrot.
“You’re you again. Lookin’ people in the eye, smiling, teasing.
It’s like she pulled you out of a place the rest of us couldn’t reach. ”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Wilder adds, stepping to my left.
I glance back at the house. Then the end of the aisle. Wishing I knew how to tell Willow all this. “I don’t think she’s convinced,” I mutter.
Silas slips his hands into his pockets, mimicking my stance. “Well, you’re about to say your vows. If there were ever a time to do it . . .”
I shake my head. “No. This is between her and me.”