Chapter 31
Nia
The morning sun broke through Cal’s bedroom windows in soft golden streaks. For a moment, I didn’t move. I didn’t want to.
His heavy arm was wrapped securely around my waist, anchoring me to his side.
My cheek rested against his chest, the rhythmic, steady thump of his heartbeat vibrating beneath my ear like the most peaceful sound I had ever heard.
Had it not been for the massive amount of greasy food we had ordered last night to soak up the tequila, I probably would have been fighting for my life right now.
But somehow, I felt good. Better than good. I felt lighter than I had in weeks—maybe months. It was as if some invisible weight I had been carrying around had finally slipped from my shoulders while I slept.
Cal and I were official. A real relationship. With Caleb Sinclair.
The thought made a smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
I was his woman. His. And he was mine. My man.
Lord, it still felt completely surreal, like any second I would wake up and realize last night had been some alcohol-fueled dream my heart created because it was simply tired of missing him.
But it wasn’t a dream. The steam rising off the heated pool last night had been real. His large hands holding mine beneath the warm water had been real. His voice telling me he loved me had been real. The raw, fierce way he looked at me when he said he wasn’t leaving Houston had been real.
I closed my eyes, letting the memory wash over me all over again.
I had told him the truth. Finally. No hiding, no pride, no pretending I could keep him tucked away in some safe, casual corner of my heart without admitting he owned the whole damn thing.
I was madly in love with him, and saying it out loud had been terrifying.
But hearing him say it back with so much certainty had settled something deep inside my soul.
His fingers shifted against my waist, tightening gently and pulling me a little closer into his heat. I tilted my head to look up at him. He was still sound asleep. His bare chest rose and fell evenly, his long lashes resting against his cheeks, his mouth slightly parted. Peaceful.
I smiled softly. Mine.
I carefully reached for my phone on the nightstand, trying not to disturb him, and immediately winced at the time digital digits on the screen.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
Cal stirred beneath me, his grip tightening instantly. “What?” he mumbled, his voice thick and raspy with sleep.
“We have to get up.”
He buried his face into my hair, his breath warm against my neck.
“No, we don’t.”
“Yes, we do.”
“Nope.”
“Cal.”
He cracked one dark eye open, looking up at me. “What time is it?”
“Late enough that Stormy might actually kill me if I’m not at that vineyard soon.”
That woke him up a little. He blinked, shifting his gaze toward the bright sunlight pouring through the window. “My little sister and my best friend are getting married today.”
I smiled, my heart squeezing. “Our girl is getting married today.”
His expression softened completely, the usual playful smirk missing, replaced by something incredibly tender. “Yeah. Our girl.”
For a few seconds, neither one of us moved.
The whole world felt entirely still. I wanted to hold onto this pocket of peace for as long as I could, keeping the rest of the world locked outside.
Cal brushed his fingers slowly along my spine, the deliberate touch sending a familiar ripple of heat straight down my back.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded, resting my chin on his chest. “I feel really good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His eyes searched mine, looking past the playful surface. “About us?”
I smiled, tracing a small circle over his heart. “Especially about us.”
The corner of his mouth lifted into a lazy grin. “I like hearing that.”
“I like saying it.”
He reached up, his fingers sliding through my straightened hair to tuck a stray strand behind my ear. “Say it again.”
I laughed softly. “I feel good about us.”
“No.”
I raised a brow. “What?”
“You know what I want to hear, Shot.”
My stomach fluttered like I was sixteen years old all over again, completely undone by a look. “I love you.”
His smile spread slowly, brilliant and certain. “There it is.”
I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks warmed instantly. He laughed before pulling me down to kiss him. It was slow, lazy, and deep—the kind of kiss that made the morning stretch around us, asking for nothing but still giving everything.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were softer than I knew how to handle. “I love you too.”
My heart swelled. I didn’t know if I would ever get used to hearing those words from him, but I hoped I never did.
He kissed me again, then again, and again, each press of his lips sweeter and more deliberate than the last. I should have gotten up.
I should have showered. I should have been responsible.
But his hands were warm on my skin, and after so many years of almost, I wanted one more moment of finally.
So I let myself have it. I let myself sink into him, letting myself be held and loved. Not rushed, not claimed like a temporary prize, and not touched like chemistry was the only thing binding us together. Just purely loved.
By the time we finally made it out of bed, the sun had climbed much higher, and my phone was practically buzzing off the nightstand with three consecutive missed texts from Stormy.
Stormy: Please tell me you’re awake.
Stormy: Nia.
Stormy: I know where Cal lives.
I laughed, covering my mouth as Cal leaned over my bare shoulder to read the screen.
“She threatened you?” he grinned.
“She basically threatened both of us.”
He shook his head, walking into the bathroom. “That sounds about right. That woman needs a vacation.”
“She planned the wedding of the century in less than a year,” I called after him, quickly typing out a reply. “She needs two vacations.”
Me: I’m alive and on my way soon.
Stormy: You better be.
After a quick, shared shower that almost made us late all over again, I stood in his massive walk-in closet wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, trying to make sense of the fact that I had to leave him just so we could both go get ready for the exact same event.
He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his chest flush against my back.
“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” he murmured against my shoulder.
“No, I'll see you at the vineyard. Go meet up with Jalen to make sure he's not passed out from nerves somewhere.”
Cal laughed into my neck. “Good point.”
A private car arrived for me thirty minutes later.
Cal walked me outside, the cool November air crisp against my skin.
The driver opened the back door as Cal turned to face me fully.
For a moment, we just looked at each other.
It felt strange to leave him, even knowing I would see him in a few hours, and even knowing we were completely fine.
Maybe because for the first time in my life, leaving him didn’t feel like running. It just felt like going where I needed to go.
“I’ll see you there,” he said softly.
I nodded. He leaned down and kissed me one last time, a gentle, lingering press of his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He smiled like those words did something to him every single time.
He nodded to the driver and helped me into the car.
As we pulled away from the curb, I looked back through the rear window.
Cal stood in the driveway, hands shoved into his pockets, watching until the car turned the corner onto the main street.
I smiled to myself, settling back into the leather seats. His woman. My man.
The ride to Bellavigna Estate felt like entering another world entirely. The closer we got to the vineyard, the more the Houston city limits disappeared, replaced by rolling hills, pristine white fences, and endless rows of grapevines stretching beautifully beneath the bright winter sun.
The estate looked even more breathtaking than it had during the rehearsal.
Towering wrought-iron gates opened to a long, winding driveway lined with centuries-old oak trees, their branches intricately wrapped in thousands of tiny white lights that would glow brilliantly once the sun went down.
The massive limestone villa sat majestically at the top of the hill like something pulled straight out of a European film—all cream stone, grand arched windows, ivy-covered balconies, and marble fountains spilling water into stone basins.
White garden roses bloomed everywhere, lining the steps, twisting around the stone archways, and exploding across the ceremony lawn.
It was elegant, romantic, and incredibly grand.
The moment I stepped out of the car, I spotted the rest of the bridal party arriving at the exact same time. Massive designer sunglasses sat on every single face, bodies moved a lot slower than usual, and nobody was speaking above a hushed whisper.
I immediately started laughing.
Pepper stepped out of a black luxury SUV, looking like an old-Hollywood starlet in oversized shades and a vintage silk scarf tied over her hair.
Despite the sleek disguise, stray coils of her vibrant, natural red hair slipped free, catching the light like loose springs.
She lifted one manicured hand to block the sun, looking at the sky like it had personally offended her.
“Wait.” Pepper stopped, lowering her shades to look me up and down. “How are you not hungover?”
I shrugged proudly, smoothing down my linen shirt set. “Food, my friend. Lots of food.”
She narrowed her eyes in playful disbelief. “Whatever, slut,” she pushed my arm playfully as we walked toward the grand entrance.
I laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. Stormy came around the side of the SUV, moving with the fast-paced authority of a general, her iPad already clutched beneath her arm and her headset resting on her shoulders.
“Less talking, more moving, ladies,” Stormy commanded.
Pepper groaned, pressing a hand to her temple. “Why are you yelling?”
“I am speaking at a very reasonable volume.”
“You are not.”
Stormy completely ignored her, turning her sharp gaze toward me. “You look alive, Nia.”
“I am.”
“Great,” she checked something off on her tablet screen. “Bride is upstairs in the bridal suite.”
“And how is she holding up?”
Stormy let out a dramatic sigh, though a fond smile played at the corner of her lips. “Emotional, excited, slightly nauseous, and threatening to cry every seven minutes.”
I smiled, grabbing my heavy garment bag from the bellhop. “Oh, boy.”
We made our way inside the villa, where the bridal suite had been transformed into pure, wedding-day luxury.
Silk robes hung elegantly from heavy gold hooks, each of our names embroidered across the back in delicate, shimmering script.
The rich, clean scent of fresh flowers filled every corner of the room, with towering arrangements of cream roses and cascading greenery softening the sunlight pouring through the arched windows.
Nearby, a full breakfast spread covered the long rustic table, complete with vibrant platters of fruit, pastries, eggs, and an absolute mountain of chilled water bottles.
Stormy pointed a strict finger at the spread. “Hydrate.”
Pepper immediately offered a mock salute. “Yes, general.”
“I’m serious, Pep. Last night was a lot.”
“I know, I know,” Pepper laughed, already reaching for a bottle.
Mars stood near the towering windows in a brilliant white satin robe, her silhouette framed by the rolling vineyard hills outside. She turned the second she saw me, her breath hitching slightly.
My heart squeezed tight at the sight of her.
The reality of the day finally settled heavily into the room.
I walked straight into her space and wrapped my arms around her, holding her close.
She hugged me back so tightly I almost lost my breath, burying her face into my shoulder like we were still those kids on the porch.
“You okay?” I whispered, resting my hand against her back.
She nodded rapidly against my shoulder, her shoulders trembling just a fraction. “I think so.”
I pulled back slowly, keeping my hands on her shoulders, and let a wide smile break across my face. “You’re getting married today, Mar.”
Her big brown eyes filled with tears instantly. “Don’t.”
“Oh, so we’re crying early?”
“No,” she insisted, her voice cracking.
“Yes,” Pepper called out from the table.
“No, because if I start, my makeup artist is going to walk out,” Mars laughed, waving a hand in front of her face to fan away the moisture.
From the vanity station, the makeup artist nodded solemnly without looking up from her brushes. “I will," she joked.
We all burst into laughter, the heavy, suffocating weight of the nerves breaking instantly. I stepped closer, carefully tapping a finger beneath Mars’s eye before a stray tear could ruin her primer.
“Come on,” I said softly, throwing an arm around her shoulders and turning both of us to face her reflection in the gilded mirror. “Let’s get you married.”