Chapter 28 #2
Hanna lingered alone in the guest house, her heart thudding against her chest, not in a panic, but in a full-out sprint toward whatever happened next.
* * *
“You’re getting married tomorrow,” Hanna squealed, popping the cork on the final bottle of champagne for the night. Sara giggled, leaning her head on Hanna’s shoulder.
“I’m getting married tomorrow,” she echoed. “Finally.”
Hanna poured two glasses, setting the bottle on the nightstand as they snuggled up in Sara’s bed. They were halfway through My Best Friend’s Wedding, fighting the drain on their energy, not quite ready to lay this chapter of their lives to rest.
Hanna muttered through a sip, “Unscented antiperspirant.”
Sara threw her head back, cackling.
“I’m sorry! But someone had to get you two alone. You’re both the exact same kind of stubborn.”
“We are,” Hanna agreed. “Thank you.”
They laid together through the final act of the movie, content to ignore the rest of the world for just a little longer. When the screen flickered back to the Netflix menu, Hanna kissed Sara’s cheek and snagged their empty glasses.
“Goodnight, Mrs. DeBrune.”
“Goodnight.” Sara cleared her throat. “If you happen to see Milo tonight, tell him I said goodnight too.”
Hanna rolled her eyes, but giggled all the same. She wandered downstairs into the kitchen, setting the glasses in the farmhouse sink. The door to the back porch slid open, several bottles clinking against one another as Milo yelled something to someone out on the porch.
She twisted and leaned against the counter, unable to fight the grin as he turned and saw her. He set the empty bottles on the island and swept her up into his arms.
“You know what I just thought about?” he whispered, her back leaning over the counter.
“Hmm?”
Milo brushed his hands along her jaw. “I get to see that bridesmaid dress tomorrow.”
Hanna laughed. “You could see what’s underneath it right now if you wanted.”
“I’m sharing a guest house with three dudes—”
“Two of them have already seen you inside me, so,” Hanna whispered, attempting to be funny, but her cheeks flushed a deep red.
He kissed her cheek. “We should protect Brandon’s innocence.”
“I’ve got my own room,” she murmured against his neck, her hands wandering under his shirt. “Perks of being the jilted ex-girlfriend of the homeowners’ son.”
She grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs, her stomach fluttering as they fell into her bed, his hands going to work the second the door shut.
“It feels a little sacrilege to fuck you in Logan’s house,” Milo said, nipping at her jaw.
“Then don’t fuck me,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows at him. “Make love to me, Milo.”
She giggled, rolling her eyes. “As if we ever did anything else,” he whispered, his hand crawling her thigh beneath the hem of her shorts.
He moved faster as she sighed, sucking the soft skin of her neck between his teeth.
He was so warm, so consuming, so hers. Her breath caught, the edges of her vision pulling into brilliant white as he brought her over the edge.
She buried her face in his neck, running her fingers through his hair as she fought to get her breathing under control.
“You love me,” he whispered, grabbing her face to look at her.
“Desperately.” Hanna laughed. It surprised her—how easy it was to admit. “You love me.”
“Terrifyingly, Arizona.”
He reached between them, shoving his sweatpants off and pulling her shorts to the side—there was no show of it, he wanted to be inside her, in any way possible.
“Tell me again,” he whispered, taking up space within her as she melted over him.
“I love you,” Hanna said, gripping his arm as she sank into his skin, fusing with his veins.
“I love you, too.”
He lit her up with a searing kiss and she fell apart over him, crumbling and falling into those green eyes as he followed her, the edge in his gaze from earlier gone.
Not forever—but for long enough.
She collapsed against his chest, pressing her lips to his skin as she stroked his hair.
“Good as you remembered?” he asked quietly, shifting his weight to her side and pulling her against him.
“It was f—”
“I swear to god, Hanna, if you say fine—”
“I was going to say fucking incredible,” she said.
He pressed a kiss to her temple, frozen in a moment they’d both so deserved, a moment that sent shivers down her spine but, for once, not of panic.
* * *
When Hanna woke up surrounded by a sea of ink, her heart did not sink like she’d feared it would on such a big day.
No, it held tight, beating steadily against his.
She could still feel the electric current of him as she showered, like a late summer rain washing over her, and she was still beaming like an idiot when she joined the bridesmaids for breakfast.
In fact, the beaming didn’t stop throughout the entire day. She’d worried it would crush her to watch Sara marry Matty without her mother’s commentary during dinner, or terrible dance moves at the reception. Her heart strained, of course, but it did not collapse.
“Hanna, honey, can I get your help?” Cami darted through the living room with her hair half done. Taylor zipped the back of Hanna’s dress, disappointed that Cami had interrupted the prior evening’s sordid details.
“The boys need help with their boutonnieres, but I need to get back in the chair. Berty keeps pinning them upside down and the florist is going to kill him.”
“I’m on it, Cami,” Hanna said, squeezing her shoulder.
She darted down the steps of the back porch and out to the guest house, a round of whistles greeting her as she slipped into the French doors.
Matty fussed with his boutonniere in the mirror as Berto battled the pin for the third, maybe fourth, round from what she could tell.
“I’ve come to release you from this torture,” she said, tapping Berto on the shoulder.
“Thank god,” Matty sighed. “He fucking stabbed me!”
“It wasn’t on purpose!” Berto insisted.
“The pin is bent to hell,” Hanna muttered, holding the purple-tipped pin between them. “Do you have extras?”
She glanced around the room, uncles and cousins cracking beers, but no florals in sight. Logan appeared from the bathroom, fixing his cufflinks.
“Well, shit,” he said. “Milo seen that yet?”
He pointed to Hanna’s dress. She couldn’t stop the smile from breaking over her petal-pink lipstick.
Logan held up a hand. “That’s all I need to know.”
“I’m looking for the florist,” Hanna said, holding the bent pin up to his face. “Boutonniere emergency.”
“Uhh, she’s helping my dad,” Logan said, gesturing to the deck out back. He pulled open the back door and followed her into another circle of navy suits. “Have you met her yet?”
“No?” Hanna asked. Logan’s eyes skipped from Hanna to the florist as she tucked a pin into Tom’s jacket.
“Janny,” Logan said, tapping her on the shoulder.
The florist spun, her bright green eyes widening and a warm smile pulling at her delicate lips. She looked different outside of her sun-soaked shop and in a cocktail dress—no apron in sight. She clapped her hands together.
“Sunflower girl!” she cheered.
“Oh my god!” Hanna’s skin flushed as she pulled the woman into a hug, shocked to see her standing next to Tom DeBrune. “You said you had a big wedding this weekend! I guess I assumed you meant some big fancy city venue.”
She patted her shoulder. “No! No, I meant big for me.” She reached up and tapped Logan’s cheek, squeezing it lightly as she spoke.
“I’ve known these two since they were just boys.
Wow, don’t you look spectacular?” She leaned closer and dropped her voice behind her delicate hand.
“I hope whoever that guy was sees you in that.”
“You, uh, you know each other?” Logan said, looking between the women.
“Kind of,” Hanna answered, giggling as she turned toward him. “Logan, this is my florist.”
Logan laughed and dropped an arm around the woman’s shoulder. Hanna tried to think through the Rolodex of aunts and cousins she’d met over the years, but she couldn’t place her.
“Hanna,” the florist said, tapping her temple. “The Hanna. Of course!”
Logan and Hanna both shook their heads, their eyes widening.
“Not the Hanna anymore,” Hanna said.
Logan shrugged. “Well, not my Hanna, but—”
“Oh,” she said, clenching her jaw together. “You know, I think I did hear something about that—”
“Mom, can you help me with this godforsaken boutonniere?” Milo asked, cutting across the deck. “It’s crooked no matter what I do.”
Logan bit his lip to keep his laughter in as Hanna glanced between them, the puzzle pieces she’d collected falling together quickly. The florist turned her attention to her alleged son, her fingers working quickly to adjust the arrangement.
“Damn,” Milo breathed when he caught sight of Hanna, her mouth agape as she watched them move in the same fluid motions. “FaceTime didn’t do that dress justice, Arizona.”
Janet swatted at Milo’s shoulder. “Don’t talk to my best customer like that!”
Milo wrapped an arm around her back, pressing a kiss into her salt-and-pepper hair.
“What?” he asked.
“This is one of my sons up for grabs, by the way,” Janet said. “Though he’s making a terrible first impression.”
Logan leaned between them and kissed Janet on the cheek.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about Milo’s availability, Janny,” he said and darted away before Hanna could protest, laughing the entire way back into the house.
“How do you know my mom?” Milo asked, two sets of emerald eyes staring at her.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, her eyes catching on Janet’s emerald ring. “I thought your mom was a traffic school teacher?”
“Oh honey, that was decades ago,” Janet said. “And really only to pay the bills to get my shop started.” She turned to Milo, his face painted in an amused grin. “Wait! You’re the Phoenix girl. What happened with Lo—”
“Mom, this is Hanna,” Milo cut her off. “My girlfriend?”
Janet raised her eyebrows. “Girlfriend!”
“Don’t freak out,” Milo mumbled, unable to stop the grin from lighting up his face.
Tom leaned forward and squeezed Milo’s shoulder as he looked to Janet.
“Don’t let your son fumble that one. Take it from me.”
He winked at Hanna, who was still trying to process being introduced as Milo’s girlfriend. Milo grabbed her hand and kissed her cheek.
“Everything fine?” he asked.
Hanna squeezed his hand and laughed.
“Better than fine.”