Chapter 17
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Hartley
“I can’t believe you drove all the way down here for this,” I say to my brother as he comes into the room.
He hangs up a garment bag on a hook by the window and then faces me. “Put a little respect on my name, for fuck’s sake. You’re getting married. Of course, I’d be here.”
“Sorry.”
“You better be. You might be bigger than me, but I can still kick your ass,” he says, winking before turning back to his bag.
Astrid, Gianna, and Drake showed up on the ranch yesterday afternoon while I was in Nashville running an important errand. Gray arrived last night after rugby practice, and we all sat around a small fire with Brooks and Audrey until well after midnight.
As we shot the shit and laughed about nothing and everything, I couldn’t stop imagining what it will feel like the next time we’re all together—and my wife is there with me.
The way my body reacts to that thought is absurd.
My heartbeat kicks up as I picture Mira curled against me with her legs draped across mine. My fingers flex with the need to pull her into my lap and hold her there. Every muscle in my body aches with the desperate, impossible need to experience the life I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.
Even if I only get to borrow it.
“Is anyone here yet?” I ask, buttoning up my shirt. We still have an hour or so before the ceremony starts, but when I went to grab a drink a while ago, I could hear plenty of voices from the sanctuary.
“Is anyone here?” Gray asks, laughing. “Dude. Half of the fucking town is already here. I started coming in through the front entrance, but realized I’d be sidelined quickly. So I snuck around back and came in through the basement.”
My fingers stall against my buttons. Mira’s probably a nervous wreck.
Gray faces me. “You doing okay? I can’t tell if you’re nervous or not, so I don’t really know what you need.”
Yeah, well, me either, Gray.
I return to my buttons and contemplate an answer to his question. As far as my level of nervousness, I know one thing—it should be higher. I’m getting married today, to my dream woman, to boot. But she isn’t marrying me because she feels the same way. That should make me more anxious than it does.
For some reason, I’m suspiciously calm. The idea of marrying Mira St. James is as natural as breathing. I keep reminding myself that this is temporary. That in twelve months, I’ll be in a courtroom instead of a church.
But no matter how this ends, I’m still marrying the only woman I’ve ever loved. I’m still marrying Mira.
A knock raps against the door, and Gray and I both look up.
“Come in,” I say.
Markie pokes her head around the doorframe. “Hey, guys. I have your boutonnieres for you.” She places three small white boxes on a table by the door. “Need anything else?”
“No, but we only need two,” I say. “Gray’s standing with me. Since you were the only one standing up with Mira, I’m only standing with Gray to keep it even.”
She snorts. “We all know that Brooks will be involved somehow, even if that means sneaking up behind you as Mira walks down the aisle. I’m just thinking ahead.”
“Damn. You’re good,” Gray says, chuckling.
“Thanks, Markie,” I say.
“You’re very welcome, my soon-to-be brother-in-law.” She grins, watching the realization unfold on my face. “See you guys later.”
She gives us a little wave and then disappears.
“I gotta take a piss,” Gray says. “I’ll be back.”
I take a breath as the door closes and I’m alone again. My hand slides into my pocket, the cool coin in the bottom smooth against my fingertips. I grabbed it before I left the house.
Laughter billows into the room from somewhere in the distance, lending credence to Gray’s claim that there are already a bunch of people here for the wedding.
I heard Mira tell Lolly that we only wanted a few people.
I can’t help wondering if Lolly got her permission to widen the invite list, or if Mira will be jolted when she realizes that we’re doing this in front of the whole damn town.
It doesn’t matter to me, but it might to her because she doesn’t want this. She’s going along with it. But I saw the look on her face at Lolly’s. If she had her way, she would’ve had her grandmother sell the house and moved on.
I grab my phone and type out a text.
Me: How are you doing?
Mira’s response comes immediately.
Mira: Just hanging out. Markie went to do a few things and to find more bobby pins for my hair. How about you?
Me: Are you alone then?
Mira: Yeah.
I leave the room and sneak down the hall to the last door on the right. My knuckles rap against it twice. “It’s me.”
“Hartley?” Mira pulls it open, her eyes wide and bright. “What are you doing? You’re not supposed to see me on our wedding day.”
“Too late.” I grin. “Can I come in?”
She shrugs. “Sure. You’ve already jinxed us.”
“Good thing we only have to rough it out for a year, then, huh?”
I step inside the room, closing the door softly behind me. When I turn back to Mira, my heart stumbles over itself. Holy shit.
She’s fresh-faced as if she just got up and had a cup of coffee.
Her hair is in soft curls at her shoulders, and a long button-up shirt hits her mid-thigh.
Everything about her lures me in. I just stare at her, trying to remember how to breathe.
Trying to get my brain to register that she’s my fiancée.
For a moment, I only focus on that single fact. Not the land, not Lolly’s house, and not the impending divorce. Just the simple idea that I’m marrying her.
“You’re beautiful,” I say, hoping I’m not crossing a line. “Stunning, really.”
Her cheeks flush. “Stunning, huh? Maybe I’ll just get married in this and forget the wedding dress.”
“Fine by me.”
She laughs. The sound is like music to my ears.
“I brought you something,” I say, sliding my hand into my pocket again. “I was afraid you’d be getting nervous, and I didn’t want you in here spiraling.”
“I never spiral.”
Lifting a brow, I place the coin in her hand. “You’re the biggest spiraler I know.”
She looks down at the small, round piece of metal about the size of a penny in her hand. There’s a hole in the center of it. I start to worry that she doesn’t remember where it came from but stop when she lifts her gaze to mine and grins.
“You still have this?” she asks, in awe. Her thumb brushes over the worn edges as if she can’t quite believe I carried something she gave me years ago.
“That thing has been in my pocket for every business meeting, negotiation, and any other stressful event in my life. Of course, I still have it.”
She moves slowly around the room, flipping the coin in her palm.
“I gave this to you at the Sugar Days festival when we were ten. You wanted to win that can of fart spray so badly but kept missing the balloon with the dart.” She laughs quietly as she walks through her memory bank.
“I had just found this on the ground when someone gave me free cotton candy, so I told you the coin was good luck, and it would keep your nerves at bay.”
“And I won the fart spray,” I say, smiling at her. “And now, hopefully, it’ll keep your nerves at bay as you throw a dart, so to speak.”
“You’re better than a can of fart spray.”
“I’d hope.” I laugh, the sound mixing with hers. “I’d better get out of here before Lolly finds me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Her chest rises and falls as she searches my eyes. The air warms, thickens, as we stand within arm’s reach of each other but fail to touch.
“I’ll see you at the end of the aisle,” she says. “I’ll be the one in the white dress.”
“And I’ll be the lucky bastard in the tux waiting on you.”
I want to kiss you, Mira. I want to get the chance to love you again, to make the memories I’ve always thought we’d make together.
But I don’t say any of that. As usual, I hold those thoughts inside and lock them away.
We can touch in public, but Mira’s been clear that she wants all other boundaries respected, which was especially evident at the park on Tuesday night.
It was the first night in a long time that when I touched her, she’d smile at me with a genuine softness in her eyes.
But we’ll never have that in private again.
I give her a final smile of reassurance and then leave, closing the door behind me.
Mira
I stare at the coin in my palm. I can’t believe he still has this thing.
The sun shines into the room, filling it with a brightness that feels intentional.
The warmth spreads across my skin, melting away any residual tension I’ve carried for the latter part of the day.
It’s not the overwhelming anxiousness that I expected.
Instead of being in a full-out panic because I’m getting freaking married, I’m more concerned with what this marriage looks like when we walk out of the church.
Last night, I lay in bed and tried to wipe the smile from my face.
It’s a predicament that I’ve become very familiar with because I battle it every time I spend more than five minutes with Hartley.
But this time, I can’t hop in my car, blow past the closest gas station, and speed to wherever I’m calling home at the moment.
This time, I’m going to be in his house. Sometimes, in his arms. And I shouldn’t be in his bed.
“I don’t think I’m strong enough for this,” I mutter, clutching the coin. “You better still have some lucky powers left for me because I’m going to need them.”
“Hey,” Markie says, returning from her quest to find bobby pins. “You didn’t see Hartley, did you?”
My cheeks flush. “What? No.”
“You better not have.” She drops a pile of pins on the table. “I passed him in the hallway, and he had a smug grin on his face. And the only person I know who makes him smile like that is you.”
I hum, enjoying that little fact. “Hey, while I’m thinking of it, what did you do with the ring I bought Hartley?”
“We nabbed Violet Crowder’s granddaughter and crowned her the bearer of the rings. Her mother’s with her, and she has the rings.”