Wedhead: Bedhead: The Final Chapter

by Kayt Miller

  I hear chairs scrape a little as people sit back down.

  “First, I’d like to begin by welcoming everyone and thanking each and every one of you for being here on this happy occasion. I know many of you came from quite a distance, and Quinn and Cooke would like to thank you for that. It’s no accident that each of you are here today, and each of you were invited to be here because you represent someone important in the individual and collective lives of Quinn and Cooke.”

  I want to snort at that. I mean, I’ve never laid eyes on half the people here. But the sentiment is true. They mean something to Cooke, so that’s good enough for me.

  “I truly can’t think of another occasion that is not only monumental for the wedded-couple-to-be, but for all of us who are lucky enough to know and love them as individuals.”

  I smile at my friend. Gage is knocking this out of the park.

  “While their story is unique, the kind of love they share is timeless.”

  That’s so true. I mean, we met on a video chat app. And it was a wrong number at that.

  “While their relationship has been rather nontraditional, it doesn’t matter. I could tell the first time I saw them together that they were meant for each other.”

  I hear a few people make that “aw” sound. I guess it was kind of adorable for Gage to say that.

  “Even Cooke’s proposal was unique…”

  Oh, he’s right. But it was perfect for us. The first time he proposed was the day before he was due to get his brace off his leg. He even gave me a beautiful ring to seal the deal. But because Cooke is Cooke, he felt he needed to do it again. “For real this time.” So, he did it via FaceChat. It was so sweet and unexpected, I mean, he’d already popped the question once. Heck I was still wearing the gorgeous sapphire, but because he was in London and I was in Ames finishing up my degree, he made it happen that way. He got my friends involved. Heck, they knew before I did what he was up to. Tayler had the ridiculously ginormous diamond ring, so when he popped the question, she was there, holding the little box open in front of me. As soon as I said, “Yes!” the rest of the Beedle Babes came out of Tayler’s bedroom with fake champagne since I had just found out I was pregnant. It was awesome.

  “…proposing over FaceChat, the same way they met.”

  Several chuckles come from the group behind us.

  “The most remarkable moment in life is when you meet the person who makes you feel complete. The person who makes the world a beautiful and magical place. The person with whom you share a bond so special that it transcends normal relationships and becomes something so pure and so wonderful that you can’t imagine spending another day of your life without them.”

  Oh crud. I’m going to cry.

  “For Quinn and Cooke, that happened two years ago. To the day.” He looks at the two of us. “Right?”

  “Yep,” I say and smile up at Cooke.

  “Before we do the official vows, Cooke and Quinn have written their own. They’d like to read those now.”

  Oh my gosh. I’m so nervous.

  Gage looks at me.

  I guess I’m going first.

  Turning, I hold my hand out, and Tayler slides the piece of paper into my palm. Unfolding it, I do my best to get my heart under control. Here goes nothing.

  Looking up at Cooke, I say, “You look hot in your tuxedo.”

  Yes, that was my opening line. I didn’t need to actually see him in his wedding attire to know he’d look good. Our guests must think it’s a funny way to start, because they laugh. Good. That was the plan.

  “Thank you,” he replies with a chuckle. But then he gets serious when he adds, “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

  The audience releases a loud collective “Aw” this time.

  Doing my best to get back on track, I look down at my paper and read. “I couldn’t believe you’d love me.”

  Sure, I know that’s a weird thing to say, but I felt it was important to speak my truth. I hear a few mutters around me but keep going. “But then I remembered how awesome I was and decided it makes total sense.”

  Cue more laughs––including Cooke. Yay!

  It’s time to get serious.

  “It wasn’t easy with you living so far away, but everything we went through was worth it, because now I have you and we have Harper.”

  She must’ve heard her own name, because at that exact moment, the little squawk from earlier has just turned into a big one. A crying one.

  Before I can do a thing, Cooke holds up a finger, jogs down the two steps from the small stage we’ve set up for the ceremony, and plucks Harper out of Caroline’s arms. Bringing her back up onto the stage, he says to me, “It’s fitting she’s with us, don’t you think?”

  “I do.” Reaching out, I pat our girl’s back as she calms down in her father’s arms. Clearing my throat, I look down at my paper and decide to just wing it. “I love you so much, Cooke. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” I pause. “And it’s not because you’re stinking rich, either.”

  More laughs.

  “It’s because you’re everything I ever wanted in a partner. I wanted a friend and a lover and someone who’d be a wonderful father to our kids. I’ve found that and so much more.”

  Handing Tayler my paper, I step up and kiss my daughter on her little head, then kiss Cooke. “Your turn.”

  I expect Cooke to have a piece of paper too, but he doesn’t. He just starts talking like he’s rehearsed his vows a million times. Maybe he has.

  “The first luckiest day of my life was the night I accidentally called you instead of Maxwell Quinn.”

  A guy from behind us shouts, “Hear, hear.” It was Maxwell. Of course.

  Ignoring the outburst, Cooke continues. “I knew you were the girl for me right then and there. Even with your disheveled appearance, I could tell you were everything I ever wanted. You were beautiful, kind, funny, and, best of all, single.”

  The crowd laughs again, but I’ve got to say, “You didn’t know I was single.”

  “Well….” He smirks. “I was hoping.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  I can’t believe we’re talking like this in front of all these people. But it feels like they aren’t even here.

  “The more we talked, the more positive I was. I knew I had to do everything in my power to help you see—” He pauses and swallows. “—to help you see that I’m yours.”

  I know the tears are starting again. It can’t be helped. “And I’m yours.”

  Harper releases a sweet cooing sound, which just makes this moment better.

  “I love you, Quinn.”

  “I love you, Cooke.”

  The two of us kiss each other, then our little girl.

  And it’s perfect.

  Thank you for reading the Bedhead books. This series has truly been a labor of love. For my Beedle Babes.

  Also by Kayt Miller

  For more information: www.kaytmiller.com

  Bedhead

  Redhead: Bedhead Book 2

  Deadhead: Bedhead Book 3

  Wedhead: Bedhead-The Final Chapter

  FarmBoy

  Game Changer

  One of a Kind

  The Virginia Chronicles

  Our of the Blue: The Flynns Book One

  Mick’sology: The Flynns Book Two

  Vested Interest: The Flynns Book Three

  The Importance of Being Ernie: The Flynns Book Four

  The Importance of Being Kennedy’s: The Flynns Book Five

  Quirky Girl: The Flynns Book Six

  The Art of the Game

  Lainie: The Palmer Sisters Book 1

  Agatha: The Palmer Sisters Book 2

  Sadie: The Palmer Sisters Book 3

  Cortland: The Palmer Sisters Book 4

  Keely: The Palmer Sisters Book 5

  Violet: The Palmer Sisters Book 6

  Molly: The Palmer Sisters Book 7

  The Portrait Painter

  Hopeful Romantic<
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  Thanks to Margie Dill (Coming soon.)

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to everyone from Hot Tree Editing for editing this book from start to finish.

  And an extra special thank you to Becky Johnson at Hot Tree Promotions for your advice, expertise, and positivity.

  And to my beta readers. Your feedback and patience is essential to this process. Thank you!

  And to my mom who is the wind beneath my wings. Literally.

  About the Author

  Kayt grew up in the midwest surrounded by a loving family which included three brothers, one sister, and parents who always fostered her creative side.

  Kayt wrote her first book when she couldn't find a story about a certain type of a woman and a specific kind of man. She called it Game Changer and it couldn't have been a more appropriate title. It changed her life in many ways.

  Her goal, as a writer, is to write stories that relate to all of us, to make readers laugh and maybe cry sometimes. Kayt hopes her readers can escape into a fantasy, one that's actually possible. Sure, some of the stories are dubbed "Insta-love" but that's okay. She fell in love with her husband pretty damn fast and with her daughter the second she saw her. So, it's a thing, she swears.

  Thank you!

  Thank you so much for reading! It’s because of you I get to spend some time creating stories and characters. It’s my creative escape and I love it.

  With that said, I hope you enjoy the story.

  If you did, please go to my website, www.kaytmiller.com, and join my newsletter so you can be the first to know what’s coming up next. And…

  Please, leave a review!

  Sneak Peek: Sexy Savior

  A Cocky Hero Club Novel (12/6/20 release date)

  Chapter 1: Ben

  “Schilling. What the fuck happened to your face?” asks my boss Graham Morgan—in front of a roomful of my colleagues—just as I’m ready to begin a presentation I’ve been working on for weeks. A presentation that’s sure to lead to a promotion.

  Damn it. I thought I’d done a pretty good job minimizing the damage. I iced it as soon as I got back into the office and caught a glimpse of the swelling. Hell, it was already turning purple by that time. And since I lost one of my contact lenses during the… well, the ordeal, I had to dig out my old glasses—old glasses that one of my former girlfriends laughed at and dubbed “nerd glasses.” Honestly, they are pretty nerdy with their thick black frames, but I figured they were big enough to disguise my injury.

  Apparently not.

  With a heavy sigh, I turn to Graham and attempt a smile, but it hurts like hell, so I wince instead. “Had a little accident over lunch break.”

  Graham chuckles. I guess I should be pleased he’s laughing about this, because if the same thing happened a month ago, before he met his girl, he’d have kicked my ass, metaphorically speaking. “You got punched in the face at lunch?”

  I smile, or try to, pretending to find his line of questioning amusing because even though Graham is in a much better mood since meeting Soraya, he’s still an asshole on a good day. “I wasn’t punched.” No, I was elbowed. Hard. “It was a misunderstanding.”

  Yeah, the misunderstanding was on her part. I mean, seriously, who elbows a guy in the face? Especially a guy who’s trying to keep a woman from falling into oncoming traffic. Am I right?

  “I figured you’d say, ‘You should see the other guy.’”

  I’m not sure who says that, and I don’t really give two fucks. I just want this conversation to end.

  “What happened? One of your heroic moments take a bad turn?”

  I whip my head left in time to see my assistant nudge the guy next to him. He knows the backstory here. He knows about my little hobby—the one that was thrust upon me one rainy day. I never meant to be a superhero. It just happened.

  But I can’t get into that right now. Instead, I glare because… fucking traitor. I hate my assistant. He’s a suck-up and an asshole. I swear he wants my job.

  “No.” I glare at Clive. Yeah, that’s what I said. His name is Clive. “It was a misunderstanding.”

  “Go on.” Graham waves his hand like he’s shooing away a pesky rodent. “You might as well tell us the whole story. We’re never going to be able to pay attention to your presentation until we know what really happened.”

  I stare at my boss, and the only thing I can tell you for sure is my fight-or-flight instinct is firmly in the flight category. But I can’t run away. So, I do what I always do whenever shit isn’t going my way—I smile.

  “Sure.” I fake chuckle. “I was heading out to lunch.”

  “We know,” someone from the back of the fucking peanut gallery deadpans.

  Ignoring that, I continue. “I was at the light ready to cross over 42nd when I happened to see someone with their shoe caught in a grate.”

  “Someone? Or a woman?” Peanut gallery again. The fuckers.

  “A woman.” And not just any woman. This one, well, let’s just say she had my attention long before her shoe got stuck. No, I noticed her a couple blocks back, probably due to the tight red pencil skirt she had on. I’ve no idea about anything else, just her gorgeous ass and curves in that skirt. Oh, and the heels. Spiky stilettos. The kind that makes a man pause and picture those wrapped around him. Well, not the shoes, the legs attached to said shoes. Her heels were black and shiny and were connected to gorgeous, curvy legs. There was a line that ran down the back like a forties film star. That’s why I noticed.

  “She wasn’t able to pull herself free, so I stepped over to her, reached down, and, well, I tried to help her.”

  She didn’t like it. Not one bit. I guess I shouldn’t have grabbed her leg. Maybe I should have reached for her foot instead. But I wasn’t thinking. My first instinct was to help her—to save her from certain death. Sue me.

  I snort and it’s loud. She wouldn’t have died. I’d never have let that happen. “When I tried to pull her foot free, she got startled.”

  That’s a lie. She wasn’t startled. She was pissed.

  “She reacted, and her elbow came back and got me right in the eye.”

  Twice.

  “Why are you limping?”

  Fucking Clive.

  “When her foot got free, it came down on top of mine.”

  Another lie. It wasn’t an accident. She stomped down so hard, I wanted to cry on the spot, but I held it together. I guess I should be happy she didn’t aim for my nuts.

  “Who is this girl?” Graham asks, looking like he wants to hire her. I guess he could always use a good security guard, because that woman is lethal.

  “I don’t know.” I barely saw her face. But what I did see was beautiful.

  Her dark hair was all messy, falling around her face, probably from the struggle to free the shoe. The whole thing took only a couple of minutes before she was off, stomping across the street at a fast clip. Part of me was relieved she was gone while another wondered if I’ll ever see her again.