Page 149 of Big Dick Energy

“Austin has opinions about me shutting up, mostly.” He smiled sheepishly. “But I couldn't find anything that felt right. Everything was either too cheesy or too generic or too... not us.”

“So what did you pick?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely with our joined hands. “It's a cover of the song that was playing in the Vegas chapel when we got married.”

I froze.

“What?”

“I tracked it down. The chapel had a playlist, and I found someone who was there that night who remembered which song was playing when we said our vows.” His cheeks turned pink. “The original was this terrible synthesizer version, so I hired a singer to record an acoustic cover that didn't make my ears bleed.”

I stared at him, completely speechless.

“I wanted…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to connect this wedding to our first one. Because even though we don't remember it, even though we were too drunk to know what we were doing, that night changed everything. That night gave me you.”

My eyes were filling with tears again. My poor mascara didn't stand a chance.

“Dallas Dodger,” I managed, my voice cracking, “you are the most absurdly romantic person I have ever met, and I cannot believe I get to keep you.”

“Forever,” he agreed. “You're stuck with me forever.”

“Good.”

The song got louder toward its crescendo, and Dallas spun me out, then pulled me back in, catching me against his chest with a flourish that made our guests cheer. I was laughing and crying simultaneously, which was a look I'd perfected over the course of this absolutely bonkers day.

The final notes faded into silence, and then applause erupted around us. I could hear Brooke whooping, could see my father giving Dallas an approving nod, could feel the collective joy of everyone who loved us washing over us like a wave.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the DJ announced, “if everyone could make their way outside for the sparkler send-off!”

Dallas raised an eyebrow. “Ready to make our exit?”

“I've been ready for hours.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“Patience is for people who haven't been wearing a corset all day.” I grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the barn entrance. “Let's go.”

The evening air was cooler now, the heat of the day giving way to a gentle breeze that carried the sweet scent of grapes and night-blooming flowers. Our guests had assembled in two lines, leading from the barn toward the path to our cabin, each person holding a lit sparkler that sent golden sparks dancing into the darkening sky.

It looked like a tunnel of stars.

“Oh,” I breathed.

Dallas's hand tightened on mine. “Worth the three months of planning?”

“Worth everything.”

We stepped into the gauntlet of light, and the cheers went up. People were calling out congratulations, blowing kisses, waving their sparklers in enthusiastic arcs that left trails of light hanging in the air like afterimages. I caught glimpses of faces as we passed, my mother, still crying; Dallas's father, smiling; Marcus, recording everything on his phone; Delilah, jumping up and down. And then we were through, emerging on the other side into the quiet of the vineyard, the sounds of celebration fading behind us as we walked hand in hand down the path to our cabin.

The sunset had deepened to purple and orange, the sky above us darkening to reveal the first stars. String lights marked our route, twinkling softly in the dusk. Somewhere in the distance, an owl called.

“Well, Mrs. Dodger.” Dallas's voice was low, intimate. “We're officially married. Again.”

“Twice in one lifetime.” I leaned into him, our shoulders bumping as we walked. “Think it'll stick this time?”

“Baby, I plan to marry you at least three more times. Our twentieth anniversary is going to be wild.”

“You're already planning our twentieth anniversary?”