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HARRISON
“You think she’s coming?” Beck murmurs from my side.
I resist the urge to tug on the cuffs of my tux. “If she’s not, I’ll drag her here.”
“I assume that’s code for ‘fall on your arrogant preppy knees and beg her to go through with this.’”
“Of course it is. But don’t ever repeat that.”
I’ve always appreciated ceremony because it makes people sit up and take notice. But standing at the altar in front of a red carpet, it’s not the officiant or the venue that affects me.
This week, I've been reminded that Raegan wants simple things: freedom to breathe, time to enjoy life with the people she cares about, a normal experience.
I want to give her those things. And while the differences in our ages and worldviews cause friction, I won’t allow that to push us apart.
The afterparty will be outrageously elegant. Champagne and rare whiskey. Five-star venue. A-list guests.
But this is for her.
I scan the rows of guests, the familiar faces bent close to one another to murmur a joke or a memory. Toro and Natalia are dressed in their Sunday best in the front row after taking a flight from Ibiza. Rae’s brother and his wife made the shorter trip from LA. Leni and her date claim the second row. Even Annie’s father, Jax, and stepmother, Haley, came, their two kids in tow along with their granddaughter, Rose.
My condition on agreeing to this venue was that Lois relinquish the organ duties to Tyler.
My gaze sweeps the pews and flocked doves and walls covered with paper hearts that pack the chapel. I’m starting to understand the charm of this place. There’s something to be said for the kind of love that demands to be satisfied immediately. The kind that doesn’t bow to money or status.
The double doors are open, an usher standing, hands clasped, at the entrance.
My brother appears in the doorway, his gaze finding mine. He nods, which better mean “She’s here,” or I’m going to be out the doors tracking her down myself.
He heads up the aisle and wedges into his spot between me and Beck. There’s a moment of awkward shuffling, but I don’t focus on it because I can’t remember being this vulnerable.
It’s not until Annie appears in the doorway in her pale-rose dress with flowers clutched in her hands that my chest eases a degree. She sends me a wink as she reaches the front of the aisle.
“Breathe, King,” she murmurs so low only I can hear.
I’m grateful Raegan has such good friends.
That we both do.
Next is Elle.
Then Raegan’s cousin, Callie.
When all three women have taken their places across from us, my heart is thudding.
My bride appears in the doorway.
She’s a queen. Confident, gracious, beautiful. Her hair ripples around her shoulders, tantalizingly bare under the dress that hugs her curves.
I don’t care how much the dress cost.
I would pay ten times the amount for the memory of her like this.
“Mum and Dad would have loved her,” Sebastian murmurs in my ear.
I imagine them watching from above. I hope they are.
As Raegan draws closer, the neckline glitters. The hem that nearly kisses the ground and the slit up the front have the same shimmer.
