Chapter 17
Seventeen
Ina
The sun rises slowly over the Redding ranch, golden and heavy with heat. And I’m about to marry my guy.
Tanya’s sitting cross-legged on the bathroom counter eating strawberries and talking shit while my mom curls the last section of my hair. Lilah’s holding my bouquet, wildflowers, of course, and inspecting every bloom like she’s quality-control.
“Ma,” she says with a grin. “Your boobs look huge in that dress.”
Tanya snorts. “That’s the goal, baby.”
I glare at both of them. “Do not encourage her.”
My dress is white. Figure-hugging. A slit that says Yes, I’m somebody’s mama, but I can still make a grown cowboy forget his name.
It’s not traditional or modest. It’s mine.
Strapless. My boobs sitting exactly where God and a very good bra intended, my hips and ass doing their thing.
My skin glowing against the white fabric.
I look at myself in the mirror and I don’t see a woman who failed at marriage the first time. I see a woman who survived it. And came out the other side thick, scarred, stubborn, and ready.
“You look beautiful, baby,” Mama says. Her eyes are already wet, and we haven’t even left the room.
She’s in a coral dress with her hair pinned up and her gold jewelry on.
She’s been crying since breakfast. Daddy handed her a handkerchief at seven AM and said, “You’re gonna need this all day, Marie. ” He wasn’t wrong.
Tanya hops off the counter and stands behind me. Meets my eyes in the mirror. She’s in dusty rose…her maid of honor dress, which she picked herself because “I’m not wearing whatever ugly thing a bridal magazine tells me to.” She looks gorgeous.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
My chest tightens. My eyes sting. I nod.
“Don’t you dare cry,” she says. “I spent forty-five minutes on your makeup and I will be upset.”
I laugh. Blink fast. Breathe.
“Let’s go marry the bull man,” Lilah says.
The ceremony is out back on the Redding ranch, under the big oak tree.
They draped it in string lights and wildflowers.
White chairs on the grass. Long tables set for a feast behind them.
The air smells like fresh-cut hay, roses and something sweet from the dessert table.
Half the county is here…ranchers, cousins, old neighbors, town ladies, the women from the co-op, guys from the feed store. Everybody.
But I don’t see any of them.
Because Beau is standing at the altar. In a dark vest over a crisp white shirt.
With his sleeves rolled to his forearms…
because even at his own wedding, his delicious forearms are out.
His thick, dark hair pushed back from his forehead.
Nice boots. And his golden eyes locked on mine from the second I step into view.
My heart stops. Restarts. Hammers so hard I feel it in my throat.
He’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And he’s looking at me like I’m the only person on this ranch. In this town. On this earth. Like every step I take toward him is an answer to a question he’s been holding in his chest since the day we met.
Daddy walks me down the aisle. His arm is steady. His jaw is tight. He’s in his best suit, and he smells of tobacco and cologne. When we reach Beau, Daddy stops. Looks at him for a long beat. Then he takes my hand and places it in Beau’s.
Beau’s rough fingers close around mine. Big. Warm. Sure. The same grip from that very first handshake at the fair, the same heat, same certainty. And I feel it the way I felt it that first day…a current that runs from his skin into mine and settles somewhere deep in my chest.
Daddy nods once then sits down next to Mama, who is already crying into the handkerchief.
The officiant does his thing. But I can barely hear her. All I hear is my own heartbeat. All I feel is Beau’s thumb rubbing slow circles on the back of my hand. Grounding me. Like he knows I’ll float away if he doesn’t.
His vow is simple. Because he’s Beau. And Beau Redding doesn’t waste words.
“Ina, baby.” His voice is low. Rough. His golden eyes, bright. “You’re mine. My home, my wife, my future. I’ll take care of you, love you, and be yours every day until I’m done breathing.” He pauses. His jaw works. “And beyond.”
I laugh through tears. Swipe my eyes. Tanya is going to kill me about the makeup.
Now it’s my turn.
“Beau.” I squeeze his hands. Both of them.
Feel the calluses. The strength. The steadiness.
“You found me when I didn’t know I was lost. And now I don’t ever want to be anywhere else.
” My voice cracks. I push through. “I love you. I promise to keep doing so. To take care of you. Be there every step of our way together. Until my last breath.” I smile. Watery. Real. “And beyond.”
He doesn’t wait for the officiant to say he can kiss me.
He wraps one big hand around the back of my neck…
the same way he did that first night on my porch…
pulls me in, and kisses me. Long. Slow. Deep.
The kind of kiss that tells everyone watching exactly how much this man loves me, how honored he is to be my husband, and that I’m about to get it GOOD tonight.
People clap. Someone whistles. Our mothers are sobbing. June and Marie, shoulder to shoulder in the front row, sharing a box of tissues. Lilah’s wooting and I can hear Miles cheering.
It’s beautiful. Perfect. A dream I didn’t even know I had, come true.
The reception is a blur of food, speeches, and chaos.
The Reddings know how to throw a party. Barbecue and sides cover the long tables. Sweet tea and sodas flow. A live band plays country and blues. People dance on the grass under the string-lights. Tanya and Bobby two-step like they’re twenty again.
One of Beau’s brothers grabs the mic. Mack. Of course it’s Mack.
“Raise your hand if you knew he was in love after that first handshake.”
The room explodes. Hands everywhere. Laughter rolling. Even Colt, from the back corner where he’s been nursing a drink and avoiding conversation, raises his glass an inch. For Colt, that’s a standing ovation.
Beau just smiles. Pulls me closer. His arm around my waist, a big hand spread across my hip. His thumb doing that thing…always that thing…slow circles through the fabric of my dress.
And he doesn’t stop. All night. A warm palm on my lower back when we talk to guests. His big hand wrapping around my thigh when we sit. His mouth on my neck…hot, slow, deliberate…like we’re not in public, like our entire families and lifelong friends aren’t ten feet away.
“Beau,” I murmur, leaning into his ear. “Everyone can see you.”
“Good.”
“Your mother is RIGHT THERE,” I hiss.
“She’s not looking.”
I roll my eyes, laughing. “You know those two are ALWAYS looking.”
His hand slides lower on my hip. His lips brush my ear. “Can’t help it. You’re my wife now. I’m allowed.”
My wife. The words roll through me like warm honey. My thighs press together under my wedding dress. My husband, my HUSBAND, just said my wife in my ear with his rough hand on my ass at our own wedding reception, and I’m ready to leave immediately.
I last another hour. Barely. We cut the cake. We dance slow, pressed together, his forehead against mine, his golden eyes holding mine in a way that makes me forget anyone else exists. His body moving with me, his scent all around me. His heartbeat under my palm.
Then, while people are dancing and the music’s loud and the string-lights blur above us, my husband leans into my ear.
“We’re leaving,” he rasps. “Now.”
I blink. “Baby, we haven’t even…”
He holds out his hand. His eyes dark with heat and promise and everything he’s been holding back all day.
“Now, wife.”
I take his hand. Because I always take his hand. Since the first time he offered it at the fair. Since the bar. Since the porch. Since every moment in between when this big, quiet, certain man held his palm out and waited for me to choose him.
I choose him.
We slip out under the string-lights while Mack covers for us with a toast nobody asked for. Tanya catches my eye from across the reception and mouths, GET IT with both fists raised. Mama waves her handkerchief. June winks.
Beau leads me to the truck. Opens my door.
Lifts me in …his hands on my waist, his lips on my jaw.
Then he walks around, climbs behind the wheel, and drives us home.
His hand, on my thigh. My ring catching the moonlight.
The night wide open ahead of us. Mrs. Ina Redding. Yeah. That’ll work just fine.