Final Sharp Turn (Sharp Turn Saga #3)

by Faye Byrd

  The beginning of our life … together.

  “So I gots to wear a suit?” Blake asks, crinkling his nose. “I not like suits, Daddy.”

  Trystan chuckles and ruffles his hair. “Yeah, buddy, remember we went and tried them on?”

  Cam nods, his curls bouncing wildly. “Oh, yeah. All three of us did.”

  “Yeah, dude, all three of us have a suit. We’ll match,” he says, and it really hits me then.

  I gasp. “What am I supposed to wear, Trystan? I can’t find a dress in one day! Surely you didn’t buy that too?” I’m freaking out a little bit at the realization that this is truly happening, and I’m completely unprepared to walk down the aisle.

  He grabs my flailing hands and captures them between his sure, strong ones. “Baby, calm down. No, I didn’t buy you a dress”―I start to open my mouth, but he raises a brow, effectively shutting me up―“but I did contact a boutique, and you have an appointment tomorrow at eleven to pick out something that’s perfect.”

  I sigh, because come on, that’s the most romantic thing ever, besides my soon-to-be husband planning the entire wedding himself. “What if I don’t find something, what then?” I ask, still fretting over the inane. Who am I kidding, I’d marry this man in my PJs if that were all that was available.

  He brushes his fingers along my cheek, cupping my face in his incredibly warm, strong hand. “Then you go to another boutique and look at more dresses.” He brushes his thumb across my lips. “Anything you wear will be beautiful. You’re beautiful. I just want you as my wife, and whatever you wear will just be a bonus.”

  I swoon, every speck of anxiety fading instantly. “Thank you.”

  He smiles. “No, baby, thank you for making my life complete.”

  “Do you know what type of dresses you’d like to see?” Sara, the lady at the boutique, asks.

  I only have to consider her question for one second. “This is a fairy-tale wedding, so a fairy-tale dress is in order,” I reply, nodding to myself.

  I’ve never really considered myself a frilly type of girl, but Trystan makes me feel as if I’m his princess. He worships me in every way, from our everyday life where he cooks for me, cleans for me, takes care of our boys for me, to our private moments where he worships me in an entirely different, but thoroughly satisfying, way.

  “I’ve known you my whole life and never took you for a fairy-tale type girl,” Weston says, giving me a once-over. “I always pictured you as hippy-chic.”

  Amelia giggles, motioning around us. “Look where we are, better yet, look what her man has done. She has the fairy tale, and I’d kick her ass if she’d asked for anything different.”

  “You don’t have to tell me nothing,” Weston replies, waving his hand with a dramatic flair. “I’d help you kick her ass.”

  Because, yeah, my perfect man even planned this with our families involved. Ryder, Weston and Amelia all arrived on a six a.m. flight, while Cooper and Kari showed up a couple hours later after an eight-hour drive, and our parents and the Logans are getting here this afternoon. Even Brandon, Trystan’s longtime friend from Chicago, will be arriving tonight. Everyone I love and would want to witness my wedding will be here.

  It almost makes me tear up thinking about his thoughtfulness, his adoration, his complete devotion to making me the happiest woman on the planet for my wedding day.

  “I never took myself as a fairy-tale type girl either,” I say turning to them with a shrug, “but I never took myself as a get-married-at-Disney-World-with-two-days-notice type girl either. I just think it fits. He makes me feel like a princess, so why not look the part?”

  “Aww,” Weston says, flapping his hands toward his face dramatically. “You’re going to make me burst into tears.”

  “Wow.” Amelia shakes her head in disbelief. “I’m surprised at how accepting you are. I knew you’d get here, but never ever imagined you’d be this ready this soon. I thought I was going to have to throw you two a surprise wedding to get you down the aisle.”

  I can’t help but laugh. “Oh, come on.” I bump her shoulder with mine. “I’m not that stubborn.”

  She barks out the most un-ladylike laugh I’ve ever heard. “If you say so, Easy. I’m just glad you’re both happy.” She leans conspiratorially closer. “But I’m dying to know all the juicy details.”

  I sigh a deep, dreamy sigh. “You probably know more than me. You’re here after all. I was just clued in last night.”

  “How did he ask?” Weston leans in close, his eyes wide and excited. “Word for word, Easy.”

  I shake my head as I take in my brother and best friend, both eagerly awaiting every nugget of information I’m willing to share. With a deep breath, I open my lips and spill every tiny detail as they sit in awe. Because yeah, they should be awed. Trystan surprised me completely and in the most perfect way possible.

  “Everything he does, everything he is, made me say yes. He’s perfect in so many ways, he just …” I trail off, unable to finish regaling just how amazingly beautiful of a human being Trystan is.

  “Speechless, huh? That’s pretty damn good I’d say.” Weston smirks, sitting back with a satisfied grin.

  Tears roll down Amelia’s cheeks and she reaches over, wrapping me in a tight hug. “I’m so happy for you, Easy. For all of you.”

  “You’re trying to make me cry again,” Weston exclaims, clamoring for his own hug. “I can’t think of two people who deserve this more than you and Trystan.”

  The three of us huddle close, a circle of happiness and love, until we notice Sara walking our way, her arms laden with dresses. The rest of the afternoon is spent trying on dress after dress until the magical one slips into place. I know it immediately, and Weston and Amelia’s tears when I walk out only confirm it further.

  This is the one.

  I stare at the glowing woman in the mirror and wonder if she’s really me. Four months ago, you could’ve never convinced me this is where my life was headed. Not only did we navigate an unimaginable situation as a solid unit, but Trystan and I fell in love somewhere along the way.

  Mom comes up behind me, placing her hands on each shoulder. “You are simply glowing, sweetheart. I can’t even tell you how happy I am for you.”

  I blink my eyes swiftly and turn from the mirror, straight into my mother’s arms. “Thank you,” I say, hugging her tightly. When I pull away, I hold her at arm’s length. “For always being there and always being supportive of me.”

  “Oh, baby,” she says, tears gathering in her own eyes. “What else is a mother supposed to do?”

  A knock on the door interrupts us, and as she goes to open it, I run my hands over the soft fabric of my dress. “It’s time,” Dad says as he steps into the room. “Wow, Easy, you look beautiful.” His voice is gruff.

  “I’m going to go take my seat,” Mom says, moving toward the door.

  I do a little spin and approach my father. “Thank you, Daddy.” I kiss his cheek. With a deep breath, I take his proffered arm. “I’m ready.”

  He smiles at me, and it’s wistful. “Let’s do this, baby girl. I’m not even going to ask if you’re sure because it’s written all over you.” He places his hand over mine and starts leading me from the room. “And for what it’s worth, I think you’ve picked a fine young man.”

  A confident, contented smile appears on my lips as he starts leading me to where my future awaits. My sons, and I sigh, because damn … Trystan Ashby. That man has rendered me a puddle of goo.

  He’s swept into my life and completely taken over. He’s buried himself so deep inside that I can’t make out where I end and he begins. He owns my soul, and in just a short while, he’ll have me legally as well.

  As I will him.

  My father’s hand tightens over mine as we face the doors to the chapel. With a small nod to the men holding them, they swing open. My eyes begin directly in front of me and slowly make their way forward. The aisle is lined with free-standing candelabras, pearls dripping from t
he arms with ropes of flowers twined around their stems. A runner is beneath my feet with rose petals in pinks and yellows lining each side. On the center, several feet in front of me I’m able to make out some text.

  And they lived happily ever after is written in curling script, and as I walk over it, I finally allow my eyes to slide forward, all the way forward, to the end of the aisle.

  My breath catches in my throat as I take in the trio standing, waiting for me to join them. I barely notice anyone else is in the room as I glide down the aisle toward my future. I know others are here, as sighs and sniffles register in the periphery, but my focus is only ahead of me.

  Green eyes are locked on mine, guiding me forth effortlessly. Hope, love and the future all gleam from their depths. Wetness collects when I’m only a few feet away. And once I’m in reach, he pulls me close. Lips lean in, connecting for a brief but calming touch.

  We face forward―together.

  Everything from this moment on will be that way.

  Together.

  As one.

  A tug on my dress catches my attention. I look down into green and blue, both smiling widely. “Mama, you’re so pretty in your dress,” Cam says quietly, brushing his hand against the fabric.

  “Sure are, Mama,” Blake agrees, nodding his head.

  “Thank you, babies,” I say quietly, giving them a smile. “Okay, let’s get into position.”

  Both of them straighten their shoulders and turn to the front, standing just ahead of Trystan and me so we can share this experience. Together. As a family.

  The minister begins his sermon.

  “Dearly beloved …”

  When it’s time for the vows, the minister turns to me. “Easton, would you repeat after me?”

  I nod and turn to Trystan, giving voice to my vows with promises to love, honor and cherish this man for the rest of my life.

  “Trystan, would you repeat after me?” the minister asks.

  With a nod, Trystan repeats his own vows, and when he’s done, he doesn’t stop. “I have a few more things I’d like to say, if that’s okay?” He eyes the minister for an objection, and when none comes, he faces back to me, then down to the boys.

  He kneels to their level and starts speaking. “Blake, Cam, not only do I vow to love your mama and be there every day for the rest of her life, but I vow the same to you, also. You two mean everything to me”―he makes eye contact with me for a moment, then back to the boys―“to both of us. We promise to always be there for you. We’ve been a family since the day Blake landed in Atlanta, but now I want us to all be Ashbys. Will you do that? Cam, will you become an Ashby, too?”

  Tears are leaking down my cheeks as Trystan, openly and honestly, asks our son to take his name. I squat next to him, facing the boys. “I love you both so much. We love you both so much.”

  I stop to sniffle, and Cam reaches forward, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Why you crying, Mama? I thought you ‘posed to be happy. You not wanna be a Ashby like them?” he asks me with sad eyes.

  I start nodding vigorously. “I do, baby. I do want to be an Ashby, so very much. What about you? Do you want to be an Ashby?”

  He props his fingers on his chin in thought. “I might forget sometimes. I been Cameron Wilder forever,” he says, holding his hands wide to demonstrate how long. “You gonna forget sometimes?”

  I sniffle and shake my head. “No, sweetie, Mama won’t forget.”

  Trystan breaks in. “Dude, it’s okay if you forget. We’ll remind you. We’ll always be there to remind you, won’t we Blake?”

  Blake nods his head excitedly. “We will. I remind you all the time. ‘Sides … that’s my last name, and we be brothers wif the same last name then.”

  We all wait patiently while Cameron thinks over whether he’s ready for such a big change. Finally, he reaches in and latches onto Trystan’s neck. “I wanna be a Ashby, too, like Mama.”

  Trystan beams with glassy eyes and pulls Blake in to join the hug. When they’re done, he pulls them back and meets their eyes. “I love both you guys so much. You and your mama are everything to me.”

  “Love you, too, Daddy,” Blake says.

  “I a Ashby like you now,” Cam says, and everybody chuckles, including Trystan.

  “You sure are, dude,” Trystan assures him with a ruffle to his hair before standing and pulling me with him. “Now, let’s finish this so we can take these ties off.”

  Both boys give a whoop, and with a hand on their shoulder, Trystan settles them down. The minister takes his cue and finishes with those most famous words.

  “Trystan Ashby, you may now kiss your bride.”

  He turns to me then, his eyes scorching my soul. My body ignites. When he’s so very close, he stops. “I fucking love you, Mrs. Ashby,” he whispers before planting his lips on mine for a slow but chaste kiss.

  Another tug to my dress breaks us apart. “Come look, Mama,” Blake says, already trying to drag me away. “You can see the castle through the window.”

  “We went there yesterday,” Cam adds. “Wif Daddy and Unca Coop and Unca Ryder.”

  I giggle and follow behind, allowing them to lead me where they want. Trystan stays close, not letting me far from arms reach. “Oh, man, that sure is pretty.”

  “We walked in there and took a picture wif the princess,” Blake exclaims excitedly.

  “She signed our books too,” Cam adds.

  Trystan chuckles. “All right, dudes. You ready to go take these jackets and ties off?”

  “Yes!” Cam says, jumping up and down.

  “Let’s go,” Blake adds, already leading the way.

  Trystan grabs my hand, stopping me in place while the boys run to the others gathered at the end of the aisle. “You’re beautiful, did I tell you that? You’re so goddamn gorgeous, Easton.” He leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “This dress”―he runs his hand down my side and around to my ass, pulling me closer―“is fucking stunning. You’re fucking stunning in it, but I can’t wait to peel it from your body tonight. So fucking slowly. I want to explore the dips and curves of my wife inch by fucking inch.”

  Goosebumps race up my spine and heat settles in my belly. The image his words create light a fire inside me. I grip his hair and snatch his lips to mine. We share a devouring kiss. It’s hard and hungry, passion and fire, tongues battling and sliding, twisting and turning. This is the kiss of promises to come. The kiss of our future. The kiss that is the beginning of everything together.

  Several throats clear in the distance, reminding us where we are, and our lips part, foreheads rest together, eyes locked. “Now that was my first kiss to my bride,” Trystan says with a wink and small peck before taking my hand and turning to lead us back down the aisle.

  Everyone I love is gathered, waiting at the entrance. They step outside as we approach and form a line. Our boys wait, and with each taking a hand, the four of us make our way into the sunshine and across the bridge, which signifies entering our new life together. At the end of our public trek waits a carriage to take us to our reception back at the resort.

  I sigh, because how can I not? Trystan’s the most perfect man in the world for taking care of every detail. For making sure I know how much I’m loved, but he does it every day with his every action already.

  Once we arrive at the reception, all of my men start losing their coats and ties as soon as we enter the room. Not one to worry about appearances, I leave my heels on their pile and drag my new husband to the dance floor.

  The rest of the night is spent eating, laughing and dancing with our closest family and most treasured possessions.

  Our sons.

  When they can barely keep their eyes open, Coop and Kari take their leave and our boys with them. When I can no longer spin the night away, we retire back to our suite for the first time as husband and wife.

  Our night is filled with tender caresses and worshipping eyes.

  Cherished moments.

  The highest
of highs.

  Our night is filled.

  It’s filled with love.

  5 Rest Area

  Trystan

  Easton and I leave the courthouse, hands tightly clasped together, my smile so fucking wide my cheeks are hurting. No words need to be said. There are no words large enough to encompass all that we’re feeling in this moment. Pure unadulterated bliss doesn’t even come close. Not only did we just have a magical wedding, surrounded by our family and friends, but now the icing is on the cake.

  Just as we pull from the parking garage, Coop’s ringtone cuts into the silence. Easton grabs my phone and swipes, then taps the screen to put it on speaker. “Damn, bro. We’ve barely pulled onto the road. What were you doing, timing us?”

  He chuckles. “Nah, I guess I just have the magic touch. So, tell me, how did it go? Are you all Ashbys now?”

  I glance at Easton, and her smile spreads even wider, if that’s possible. “Hell, yes, man! Signed, sealed and delivered. We’re officially the Ashby family.”

  He makes a whooping sound, and his joy is infectious. “Fuck yes! Man, I’m so happy for you. All of you!”

  “I know.” I chuckle. “I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it.”

  “You’ll get there,” he says then, clears his throat. “What time do we need to be there tomorrow?”

  I shrug, glancing to Easton. “We plan to eat at four,” she says, brushing a curl behind her ear. “And right after, we’ll get the boys ready for trick-or-treating. I’d like them to be done before eight.”

  “Oh yeah,” Coop says with a chuckle. “The superhero crew. Carson and Blaine are quite excited over their costumes.”

  Easton shakes her head with a small giggle. “You should’ve seen us in the store. There was a very serious debate over who would be who. Kari and I were making deals like crazy.”

  “Oh, I bet,” Coop says, and I can practically hear his head shaking. “Oh, hey, shit! I talked to Brandon this morning.”