Chapter 53
Harrison
There are currently three separate glue guns plugged in at my house.
Four if you count whatever terrifying industrial contraption Hannah smuggled in from Pinterest Hell.
The smell of wedding cake, eucalyptus, and impending disaster hangs thick over Bishop Mountain.
Today is our wedding.
Me and Pix.
And in my tux, I’ve never been more unhinged.
I stare at the eight-foot inflatable dragon zip-tied beside the barn.
“Why is there a dragon?” I ask cautiously.
“Last-minute addition!” Hannah shouts from somewhere beneath six yards of tulle and silver garland. “The dragon is thematic.”
“What theme?”
“Fantasy romance!”
I glance at the medieval banners hanging from the rafters.
Then at the floral archway sparkling like a disco ball exploded all over it.
Which explains the six deliveries full of hot glue.
Then finally at Zac.
“Did you let her watch Game of Thrones unsupervised again?”
Zac stands on a ladder duct-taping lanterns up. Apparently his groomsman attire now includes a black tuxedo and cape.
Like Dracula got invited to a black-tie affair.
“You said whatever Pix wants. Which became whatever the kids want. Which somehow evolved into Lord of the Rings with floral arrangements and barnyard animals.” Zac slaps another strip of duct tape into place. “She’s in too deep now, man.”
I shake my head.
The original plan was easy.
Small ceremony.
Close family.
Simple.
SIMPLE.
And now there are capes.
Plural.
What’s next? Jousting?
Connor strolls over, handing me his bowtie.
I fix it for him. “Is the crown really necessary?”
“It’s epic.”
He rushes off as soon as I’m done. “People are getting married, not storming Hogwarts,” I mutter.
“Daddy.”
Snooki rushes down from the top of a staircase wearing sparkly wings, a silver cape, and the kind of joy that could power ten electric cars.
Okay, fine. She’s adorable.
She lifts her arms dramatically. “Can you help me with my wings?”
I immediately do.
Because apparently I’m raising woodland royalty now.
“What’s that bracelet?” I ask as I fasten one glittery wing strap.
“Mr. Sebastian said you wouldn’t mind if he gave me a tiny present.”
At this point, I’m too afraid to ask follow-up questions.
A loud crash explodes outside.
Somewhere outside, Hannah shrieks.
“The goats ate the marigolds!”
I close my eyes.
“There are goats?”
I walk around to the other side of the barn and witness total carnage.
Half the centerpieces are gone.
The petting zoo Mrs. D. hired for the kids has staged a full prison break.
And one tiny demon goat has marigolds hanging from its mouth while Hannah chases it across the lawn in combat boots and a bridesmaid robe.
“Get back here, Satan!”
The goat sprints faster.
I turn toward Zac.
“Is she talking to you or the goat?”
Mark calmly sips champagne beside me before handing me a glass.
“And you gave me shit for having reindeer.”
He clinks his glass against mine.
“You’re gonna need something stronger than champagne for this wedding.”
Gabe appears beside us with murder in his eyes.
“If that goat eats one more centerpiece,” he says darkly, “I’m making birria.”
“Can we get some tequila?” I call out.
Meanwhile Zac is laughing so hard he physically can’t stand upright.
Mrs. D. appears quietly beside me and straightens my tie.
“Don’t be nervous.”
I blink at her.
“I’m marrying the same woman twice. I’ve got it down.”
She looks around dreamily while chaos unfolds in every direction.
“This is wonderful.”
“The goats?”
“The love.”
I toss an arm around Mrs. D.’s shoulders as we look around again.
Kids racing through the yard.
Family shouting across the barn.
Music drifting through the mountains under a fading afternoon sky and the soft glow of fairy lights.
Even with the dragon slowly deflating beside the barn.
And I know she’s right.
This is big.
Loud.
Messy.
Ridiculous love.
Emotion swells thick in my chest as I glance toward the sky and silently thank every damn cloud that brought Pix colliding into my life.
Which is apparently the exact moment fate decides I’ve been emotionally stable for too long.
“IT’S OKAY!” Ollie yells. “I FOUND THE RINGS!”
He’s at the barn doorway, triumphantly perched on Chase’s shoulders like they just completed a successful military operation.
Did I roll my eyes when Pix insisted Chase be at our wedding?
A little.
But as usual, my wife was right.
Because I’m ninety-nine percent certain that if it wasn’t for Chase Cartwright, my wedding rings would be buried somewhere beneath six metric tons of horse-adjacent barn debris.
Mostly because America’s top underwear model currently has hay sprouting from his ass pockets.
An hour later and approximately six minor cardiac arrests, the entire world stops turning.
Pix appears at the top of the balcony stairs overlooking the barn.
And holy God.
Soft ivory silk skims every breathtaking curve as delicate marigolds weave through the loose dark curls cascading down her back.
Below her, Snooki proudly scatters petals down the aisle while Connor and Ollie flank Pix in their suits.
Then my eyes meet hers.
And I’m doing all I can to hold it together.
Gabe offers me a handkerchief.
“I’m fine. Allergies.”
By the time she reaches the aisle, stopping every few feet to hug someone, I fall in love with her all over again. Harder this time. Deeper.
Forever.
Her smile grows impossibly warmer when she spots our officiant.
The priest who married us the first time around.
“You okay, Lumberjack?” she whispers.
I slide my hands around hers, holding on tight as our family surrounds us, clouds drift overhead, and all the love in the universe looks back at me through her eyes.
“I am now.”