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Six minutes later they were in the ute, and Jack was desperately trying not to speed as they made their way through the streets of Goulburn to Saint John’s. The peacock suit was a little tight, and the legs were so short his ankles were bare. But who would even notice that? Who would even see past the garish pattern? He’d even worn the matching tie, because why the fuck not?
“Okay,” Jack said as they turned into the street Saint John’s was on. “I think we’re going to—shit.”
The two matching cars out the front with the ribbons on them could only mean Mia and her bridesmaids had already arrived. Jack slammed on the brakes, double-parking in front of someone’s Mazda, and he and Harry tumbled out of the ute just in time to see Mia being helped out of the first car by Mum. Of course, because Dad was conducting the service, so he’d already be inside.
Jack grabbed Harry by the hand and tugged him towards the entrance of the church. Hell, he didn’t care if they were stuck sitting right at the back, he just wanted them to get inside before Mia did.
Mia’s eyes widened when she saw them, and her mouth dropped open. At first Jack thought it was the suit, and he wouldn’t have blamed her, but then he saw that it was Harry she was staring at. For a moment Jack didn’t understand, then he saw her mouth, as clear as day: “Oh, fuck.”
“Hello,” said someone Jack didn’t know, all warm and welcoming and smiling. He had a stack of wedding programs and he thrust one at Jack. “Bride or groom?”
“Oh, shit,” Jack said, as the realisation hit him.
“Bride,” Harry told the guy.
Inside the cool, shadowed church, heads were craning. The church was packed. It wasn’t every day the minister’s daughter got married after the service, and it looked like plenty of Dad’s parishioners had stuck around to see the wedding. Jack caught a glimpse of Tate standing at the altar with his cousin. And Dad, striding down the aisle towards the entrance.
Mia had picked up her pace. She was hurrying towards the church, her dress hiked up to her knees, with Mum fussing behind her like a squawking bird—“Mia! Mia! Mia!”—and her confused bridesmaids trying to keep pace.
Then Mum saw Jack and Harry at the entrance to the church. “Jack! And, and—you! Oh, my God!”
“Calm your tits, Mum!” Mia exclaimed, clattering up the steps in her heels. “Jack, oh God. I was going to—” She waved her hands, almost smacking Mum in the face with her bouquet. “But then Tate’s dad broke his ankle, and we spent half the night at the hospital, and it just—it just went straight out of my head!” Another wild swing, and this time she did hit Mum. “Mum, listen. Listen. Harry’s Jack’s boyfriend. He was never?—”
And that was when Dad arrived, clutching his Bible like he was going to brain someone with it. “What the bloody hell is that man doing here?”
Jack’s jaw dropped. He’d never heard his dad swear before in his life. And on hallowed ground too. There was probably a lightning bolt headed his way right now. It might be for the best at this point.
“Can everyone just shut up for a second?” he asked. “Mum, Dad.” He looked at them helplessly, then he looked at Harry and immediately regretted it. Harry was devastated. His shoulders were hunched, and his eyes were suspiciously bright as though he was only just holding tears at bay. “Mia!”
Tate and his cousin and a guy with a moon boot—Tate’s dad, probably—joined them in the entrance, then. Because why the fuck not?
“Hey,” Tate said. “Everyone okay? Is there a problem?”
“He’s the problem,” Dad seethed, pointing his Bible at Harry. Then his expression morphed from anger into regret. “Jack, I know you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye lately, but it’s your sister’s wedding day. This isn’t the time for—” He shook his head. “Retaliation? Rebellion? Is that what this is? Oh, son.”
Harry’s breath shuddered audibly out of him.
Jack reached out and caught his hand. He held it tightly, afraid that Harry was going to run. “Harry’s not rebellion. He’s my boyfriend. He was never dating Mia.”
“But—we met him, at that restaurant,” Mum interrupted. “He was wearing that inappropriate tie! He tipped water on your father!”
“It was a setup. I hired Harry to make Tate look good,” Mia cut in. She shoved her bouquet accusingly at her parents. “Because I knew you’d make a big deal out of Tate’s tattoos and the piercings. And Tate deserves better than you judging him based on how he looks.” She raised her eyebrows. “Judge not, lest ye be judged.”
Jack’s dad opened his mouth, then closed it again.
More heads craned from the pews. You could have heard a pin drop. The wedding photographer snapped a few pictures, and Jack winced. Those would look super in the album.
“You lied?” Mum asked. “You lied to us?”
“Yes,” Mia said, totally without shame. “But Harry’s a good person, and Jack’s ridiculously in love with him, so can we just get this wedding over with please, because my shoes are killing me.”
Harry gasped and stared at Jack.
“I am,” Jack admitted. “Ridiculously in love with you.”
Harry blinked, and tears slid down his cheeks, catching in the upturned corners of his wobbly smile.
“Yeah,” Tate said. “Let’s get married hey, babe? Jack, Harry, there’s room down the front for you guys. Come on, I’ll show you.”
