Page 69

Then he turns to Everett.

"Take care of her."

Everett meets his eyes. Whatever he sees there makes his expression shift into something I haven't seen before. He’s not the CEO or the Tin Man today. He’s a version of himself that I’m not sure if I’ve met before.

"Yes sir."

My father nods once, satisfied.

Then he leans toward Everett and says, quietly enough that only the three of us hear it, "She likes four sugars and enough cream to turn it the color of a sandy beach… just in case you were wondering."

Everett blinks.

I cover my face with my free hand, as my father offers my other hand to Everett. He takes it and leads me up the two steps to the top of the stage Everly insisted on.

"I'm guessing he knows about the coffee?" Everett asks me.

"I told him about everything."

"Everything?"

His voice drops low enough that only I hear it. "Does he know that you crawled into my lap and straddled me while you offered yourself up to be my wife?"

My cheeks go hot. Every inch of them.

"Okay," I manage. "Maybe not everything."

Everett tries to hide a smirk—this one darker and warmer than usual. The kind that has heat racing down my neck now too.

My father, mercifully oblivious, pats Everett's arm. "I’ll hand it to you Everett. You just made the best decision of your life marrying my daughter."

Then he turns and carefully takes a seat on my side of the aisle.

The coordinator walks us through the rest—the recessional, the timing, where the photographer will stand—and then Everly calls it.

"That's a wrap. Everyone get some sleep." She points at me. "You—my house, nine AM. Hair, makeup, no arguments. I have a timeline and I will not be questioned." Then she turns to the table of brothers. "Boys—be ready by four for pictures. No later."

Levi salutes her. Colston claps Everett on the shoulder hard enough to stagger him. Archer disappears into the trees like smoke.

Penelope pulls me in for a hug. "I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow. Just let me know if you need anything."

"I will," I tell her with a squeeze. "Thank you for coming."

"I wouldn’t miss it."

She and Slade make their way back to their car, hand in hand and then I feel Everett at my side, his hands in his pockets.

"It’s going to be fine. We just need to convince the trustees tomorrow."

"I know it will be," I say. "And thank you… for bringing my father out here today."

He stares out with me as cars pull out and then leave.

"Come on. You need a tour of the house. It’s yours now too for the next year."

Inside, the cleaning staff moves quietly through the main rooms for another twenty minutes, clearing plates and folding linens and disappearing through the back like ghosts until we’re completely alone.

Everett loosens his tie. Rolls his sleeves to his forearms. Pours himself two fingers of something amber and leans against the kitchen island.