37. Long Beach
LONG BEACH
Jordyn
When Jamie finished his vows, he took a step forward, looking so good that I forgot we were at our wedding. I wanted him to kiss me breathless. The intensity on his face promised that. And I couldn’t want anything more at this moment than him to make good on the silent pledge.
He clasped the nape of my neck and lowered his mouth toward mine. The officiant chuckled. “Not yet, Mr. MacKenzie.”
Still leaving a whisper of space between us, Jamie kissed my forehead instead. While a soft wave of laughter flitted through the backyard, I whispered, “This whole thing would’ve taken ages to prepare, Jamie. This was on your list?”
“Just in case,” he murmured, then stepped back.
The way his breath ran softly over my forehead, I trembled.
Collecting myself with a small exhale, I spoke my vows.
“When we first met, I didn’t trust anyone …
you. I couldn’t. My life didn’t belong to me.
I wasn’t my own.” Really, Jordy? You’re telling everyone how men used you like tissue paper?
I straightened my shoulders. The pretenses crashed around me.
As the last remnant of sun glowed in Jamie’s blue-green eyes, I continued to speak.
“You saved me, and I still couldn’t break through the dark chasm that told me you were the enemy.
But you stayed. And you fought me.” I grinned, suddenly nervous, when Natasha crouched down, a legit camera in her hand.
She’d captured photos of me getting all dolled up, but somehow her moving around like a pro while I spoke made this all more real.
I murmured, “Jamie, you fought like a gentleman when I tried to bring you down the only way a woman can with a man—her mouth. You didn’t need me to be whole.
You helped lift me up. Encourage me even after I never thought I’d get to choose a single thing in my life.
Today, I do.” I exhaled. “I choose you, Jamie MacKenzie. The man who tells me not to listen to the lies swarming my mind. The man who fought through hell to save me. I choose you, and—and if I might say this—I see God in you.”
I could tell Jamie’s throat tightened. He tugged the glove off with his teeth, reached up, and gently swiped a tear from the side of my face. Hand warm, calloused, home.
We kissed, the sort of kiss that made me realize what was to come was everything I’d read in the books I lost myself in. And more.
Later, I unloosed my arms from the protective, fatherly embrace of Jamie’s dad.
He held my hand a moment. “Thank you for allowing me to dance with you, Jordyn.”
The father-daughter dance should’ve made me self-conscious and bitter because of my own lack in that department, but I smiled and thanked him. As I strolled away, I realized I wanted Jamie to succeed. To find my parents.
Cheerful, I wove around the circular linen-covered tables and spoke to Jamie’s family.
My eyes caught sight of Natasha, seated with Lachlan.
She’d screamed the second we arrived earlier.
He’d been carrying a wedding arbor from the back of a moving truck.
The girl was supposed to be twenty? Her parents had done a number on her, the way she gushed over him.
But Willow, who had done my makeup, had shared that Lachlan wasn’t just wearing a Dodger baseball cap like half of LA.
He was a Dodger. Justice, who worked in tandem with Leith’s wife, Chevelle, to do my hair, also piped in.
I had basked in their conversation. I now had another legitimate reason not to detest the MacKenzies.
My three new sisters-in-law were the cherry on top.
After that talk, I took back my earlier thoughts on Natasha. This girl had a legitimate reason to scream, and I couldn’t hate on her for it. It wasn’t young mindedness. The. Girl. Was. Star. Struck.
As I stood, listening, Natasha sounded like a sportscaster spouting some sort of numbers.
Stats ? Lachlan smiled an understated smile.
That might be why I hadn’t realized he pulled $50 million a year before sponsors.
While Rory never closed his mouth, his closest-in-age brother, Lachlan, didn’t blab that much, only mentioning he’d missed training while up in Big Bear.
As every second passed, I could tell he was in shock with her awareness of his stats.
The last brother, I’d met briefly when I arrived.
Jake seemed smitten by her, too, but like Lachlan, he wasn’t as outspoken as Rory.
Nor did he seem to have the charm either of them had.
He seemed … clinical, and I was not gonna let Dr. Jake MacKenzie read me.
When no one still noticed me—the bride—I tapped my manicured fingers against my folded forearms. “Cutie Pie?”
Lachlan looked up with the same gorgeous eyes as all his brothers. I could see the appeal. He was attentive and beautiful. And I realized the attraction was more than physical. This girl loved baseball.
“Jordyn … hey. Are you ready to do a money dance?” Natasha glared at me like a sister would, mouthing for me not to call her that . “I got all the pictures. Even at the beginning of the father-daughter dance. I haven’t missed a single moment.”
“Um-hmmm.”
“Uh, just press the top button.”
She handed me her camera. Heavy. Must have been pricey. Her parents didn’t make her worry for anything. Not surprising . Vassili had snuck $400k into the dress bag, which tumbled out when Willow unzipped it earlier. Attached to one of the stacks of money was a note.
This is nothing. A small token of appreciation for protecting my little girl.
I imagined Vassili gave me the last bankroll from a safe somewhere in his house.
However, I’d already told him he didn’t have to pay me after he’d quietly listened to my story.
This girl was his baby, and he’d protected and loved her in any way he could, even funneling money into her photography dream.
I’d seen a UCLA plaque on Natasha’s wall when she’d disappeared into her massive closet to pull out this dress.
Because of all the years she spent sick in the hospital or at home, Natasha had two years of college under her belt before graduating from high school.
She’d graduated in June with a bachelor’s in photography.
I pressed a button to stare at the photos.
The first image made me blink. Lachlan stood in the Dodger’s diamond, looking like something carved out of light and grit.
Natasha had caught him in a powerful stance; bat gripped tight in hand.
The angle was low, just off-center—to catch the arch of sunlight behind him.
Wait , what ? What in the world did I know about photography?
But what my eyes drank in was the money shot.
Not just some obsessed girl who’d taken a billion photos and struck gold.
The way the light hit his shoulders, the dust suspended midair, the tension in his arms—it was more than a photo.
It was Natasha’s confession. This girl might not ever love another man the way she loved Lachlan MacKenzie.
“Oh, um.” Natasha chewed her lip. “Lemme, uh, put the card back in there. I’ll give you the cam, ahem , the SIM card, Jordyn. These photos stay on my camera.” Her light skin warmed red. She made quick work of returning the SIM card into the camera.
I glanced at the photos that rivaled the ones in her bedroom. Thousands of photos. All good. The same passion and finesse shown in every shot of my wedding … minus the unrequited love. Hell, we should be paying her.
“Have fun, girl.” I smirked. “Not too much fun.”
She smiled.
I caught up with Jamie, crouching in front of a little girl as he nodded profusely.
“You better buy teddy bears for everyone, too. Custom bears.” Arms folded, she glanced up at me, then stalked away.
I chuckled. Jamie definitely should know a thing or two about a ‘ tude. Little Miss Diva wasn’t playing. “What was that, a shakedown?”
He stood to his full height. “Apparently, I’m taking Carly and all her friends to Build-A-Bear in a couple of months for her sixth birthday.”
“What did you do?”
“Killed a teddy bear is all,” he muttered.
“Wh—”
“Don’t ask. Now, Mrs. MacKenzie”—his voice went hotter than a firestorm—“you’re the only thing on my list. In fact. You are my list.” Jamie’s eyes smoldered like he was about to eat me alive.
“Wait …”
He groaned, nipping my neck.
“Sorry.” Though my body responded, I whimpered a question, “How old is Lach?”
“Twenty-seven, twenty-eight. Who knows? ”
“Too old. Tell him not to try anything with Cutie Pie.”
“You already sound like someone’s aunt, lassie. C’mere.”
As the stars spilled across the sky like scattered diamonds, Jamie swooped me into his arms. The concern for another woman, which would always be my second nature, faded.
My gown trailed over the ground like mist over the earth.
As we crossed over the threshold into the pool house, I knew that the two of us—survivors who lost everything and found each other—would finally share the kind of love we’d spent our lives not believing we deserved.
Man, was I ready to love every inch of this man.
THE END