by Tasha Ivey
“Okay, shoot.”
This kid. He’s like a fifty year old man, trapped in an adorable little mop-headed boy’s body sometimes.
“Well, I have to take your mom dress shopping because she’s going with me to my best friend’s wedding tomorrow, and we also have to go to the rehearsal tonight. I thought it’d be cool to have you come with us if you want to. My friends would love to meet you, and there’s going to be lots of cake.”
He taps his chin and shifts his blue eyes from side to side. “Hmm…I’m not really the wedding type, but I do like cake. Do you know what kind it is?”
“No,” I laugh, feeling it all the way to my core.
“Well,” he says, continuing his contemplation. “I guess I could go. I did just get a new comic strip bow tie that I could wear. It has onomatopoeia on it, like ‘Pow!’ and ‘Zonk!’ on it.”
Only this kid would use a word like onomatopoeia in general conversation. “I think that sounds perfect. Let’s go rush your mom, so we can make it to the rehearsal on time.”
As I watch Simon run into the house with his backpack swishing across his back, I smile, thinking about what life could be like with him and Devyn in it.
“Yeah, I think it’s going to be pretty damn cool,” I say quietly, following him inside. “And I can’t wait to find out.”
“I STILL DON’T understand what it is about barns that make women want to get married in them,” I say under my breath as I pull into the long gravel drive, knowing Sawyer can hear me.
“Well,” he chuckles, “I look at it this way. It could be in a stuffy church. Besides, you have to admit that it’s a damn nice barn. I don’t even think it can be classified as a barn, really, considering it has a few bedrooms, bathrooms, and a full kitchen. I think it was built for this purpose.”
“At least it’s not a chicken house,” I joke. I shake my head, still unable to comprehend the idea. But it’s not my wedding. “Just a few hours left of bachelorhood. Are you nervous?”
Sawyer waits until we’re out of the car to answer. “No, not really. I’m ready to be married and all that, but I would’ve preferred to elope or something. It’s standing up in front of all of those damn people today that’s going to be hard.”
“Dude, seriously?” I follow him through the back door that leads into the kitchen. “Just last weekend you were up on a stage in front of a couple thousand people.”
“That’s different. I had a guitar and a microphone.”
“You’ll be fine,” I say, slapping him on the back. “Oh! Before everyone else gets here, I want to give you something.” I reach deep into my pocket and wrap my fingers around the metal warmed from my body. “William’s pocket watch. I went and picked it up from the nursing home this morning. I thought you might want to have it with you today.”
Sawyer’s mouth forms a ghost of a smile. “That’s awesome. Thank you.” He pushes the button to open the clasp, and the cover springs up, revealing a worn watch face. When William started losing his sight, he removed the glass from it, so he could feel where the hands were to tell the time. “I never even thought about it, so I’m glad you did. Having this will make today even better.”
“I thought it would, too. Where’s our dressing room? Stall number one or stall number two?” I peek out of the kitchen to look around the main room, and it actually does look nice. There are billows of gauzy, white fabric suspended from the ceiling and stretching down to pool in the floor, and there are probably a couple hundred candles around the room—damn, it’s going to be hot up there. But I should probably keep to myself that there are at least five-hundred chairs in here; Sawyer just might bolt.
“Real funny, jackass. It’s back here,” he says, continuing through the kitchen and into a long hallway. This definitely isn’t a barn. This place is nicer than Devyn’s house. “Guys are in the back room, and the girls are up front.” He pauses to check his watch. “Shit, the photographer will be here in fifteen minutes to get pictures of me that Mak insisted on, so I have to hurry up and get dressed. Our tuxes should already be in the closet.”
He pushes through the door to reveal a huge bedroom, complete with a king-sized bed and a sitting area with two sofas and a television. It’s decorated simply but elegantly in rich chocolate browns and pale blues.
I slip my phone out of my pocket while Sawyer begins dragging everything out of the closet. Devyn texted me while we were on the road, so I haven’t had the chance to read it yet.
Devyn: ‘We’re on our way, so we should be there in an hour. Thank you for understanding last night. He’s still not saying anything about it, but I’ll get to the bottom of it. Can’t wait to see you.”
Ah, last night. What an adventure that was.
Me: ‘Be careful, and don’t worry about it. I’ll try to talk to him later, too, if you want me to. See you soon. I’ll be the hot guy in a tux.’
Maybe Simon will talk to me about what was eating at him last night. At least, I hope so. Everything started out great. He acted excited about hanging out with me, and he was quite the ball of fire at the rehearsal. He talked everyone’s ears off and was running around with a couple of other kids, having a blast. Once we got back to his house, though, things slowly took weird turn.
Devyn made him take a bath, so by the time he got out, Devyn and I were sitting on the couch watching some crime drama that she’s into, so she turned on a movie that Simon would like. He climbed in between us, resting his head on my shoulder and kicking his feet up on her. Simon even laughed when Devyn made the comment about how she had been demoted because she was now only worthy of holding his smelly feet.
But out of nowhere, he said he wanted to go to bed and his eyes were brimmed with tears. Devyn pressed him for an explanation of his sudden mood change, but he’d only say he was tired. The real kicker was when he wanted Devyn to go lie down with him, as if he wanted me to leave.
Even when I left, he just ignored me. I told him goodbye and that I’d see him today, and he just shrugged. Devyn said he was probably just deliriously exhausted after our long day, but I’ve never seen him act that way before.
“We might have a problem. I don’t see your shirt in here.” Sawyer’s voice is already strained. It’s not going to take much to tip him over the edge today.
I stand and join him. “Mak told me she brought everything here last night.” I hear familiar female voices echoing down the hall. “I think that’s her and Cal now. I’ll go see if she knows where it might be. Otherwise, I’ll do the Chippendale thing and just wear a tie.”
He huffs. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s precisely the wedding theme Makenna had in mind. Do me a favor and tell her that I said ‘elephant shoe.’”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Sawyer grins. “Just an inside joke of sorts. Just tell her. She’ll understand.”
I nod and slip out the door, making sure that Sawyer can’t see anything going on in the hallway. I never have understood the superstition about the bride and groom seeing each other before the wedding, but Sawyer has talked a lot about that pivotal moment when he sees Makenna coming down the aisle. The beginning of the rest of their lives and all that. I can’t ruin it for him.
Following the sound of the cackling hens—otherwise known as Makenna and Callie, I peck on the door of their room, noticing the voices immediately falling to hushed tones. The knob turns slightly, and the door opens barely enough to see part of a bright blue eye peeking out at me.
“What do you want, Hoover?” Callie barks. “Don’t you know we’re in DEFCON one, wedding crisis mode in here? Too much to do and no time to goof off.”
I hold my palms up. “This isn’t a social call. My shirt is missing.”
“Oh, shoot,” Makenna grumbles and jerks the door the rest of the way open. Her hair is wrapped around the fat rollers positioned all over her head. “It must be in here. Come in and shut the door.”
Callie sits at a small vanity and begins dabbing some nude-colored cream on her che
eks, and Makenna darts across the room and into the closet. She extracts two shirts draped in clear plastic. “One is my dad’s and the other must be yours. Do you remember what size yours is?”
I study the tags on each and shake my head. “I really don’t.”
“Well, we don’t have time to discuss it. Strip and try both of them on.” She shoves both of them at me.
“You didn’t get a stripper at your bachelorette party, so this must be your final attempt at a little last-minute action, huh?” I grab the hem of my shirt and tug it up and over my head.
Callie snickers, delicately brushing a charcoal powder over her eyelids. “Don’t flatter yourself, stud. Nobody said there wasn’t any stripping going on at our party.”
“Don’t give him any lies to take back to Sawyer, Cal. You taking your bra off doesn’t cou—” Makenna’s sentence falls off abruptly. “Uh, Dalton, whatcha got going on there?”
I follow her gaze to my back, trying to look over my shoulder to see what she’s talking about. “What? My tattoo? You’ve seen it before.”
A devious grin spreads across her full lips, making her bright eyes narrow. “Not the tattoo. I’m talking about these perfectly parallel scratch marks on each of your shoulder blades. Wonder how you got those?”
“Lemme see! Lemme see!” Callie jumps up from the tiny lavender chair and waddles over to join Makenna, supporting her belly with her hands. “You dirty dog. Those look pretty fresh.”
I fling one of the crisp white shirts around my shoulders and shove my arms into the sleeves. “Okay, you two have had your fun.” I raise a brow at Makenna. “I seem to remember the very same scratches on Sawyer’s ass when he was in the hospital, and I didn’t give you a hard time about it.”
Callie gasps and spins around to face Makenna. “Maybe you’re not the prude I thought you were. Or maybe Sawyer is that good.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I do not need to hear any of that.” I pick my t-shirt up off the bed and take a few steps toward the door. “This shirt fits. I’m out of here before I learn more about Sawyer than I ever wanted to know.”
“Now who’s the prude?” Makenna asks through her laughter as I begin to close the door.
But before I do, I remember the message I was supposed to give. Kinda. “Oh, and Sawyer told me to tell you something about shoes. Uh, and elephants or something.”
“Elephant shoe,” she says, beaming. “He was half asleep one night and told me ‘I love you’ but it sounded a lot like ‘elephant shoe’ to me. It’s our code now.”
“That’s, uh, sweet. And pretty weird.”
By the time I make it back to our room, Sawyer is dressed and heading out to meet with the photographer, so I finish getting ready, too. I’m sure my time in front of the camera is coming pretty soon, as much as I hate it. It probably stems from the earlier years of my life when I could hardly stand to look at myself in the mirror, much less have my picture made. Even still, I have complex about it.
Just as I’m buttoning my vest, I hear the distinct click of heels against the wood floor, and they stop right outside my door. Knowing it’s most likely Makenna’s mom coming to drag me out for pictures, I grab my jacket and slip it on as I walk to the door.
“I’m coming, Mrs. Madison,” I call out as I approach, straightening my lapel before opening the door.
But it’s Devyn standing on the other side, looking all kinds of amazing. Her dress is the shade of eggplant, and it’s fitted through the bodice. The solid fabric covers up to just above her breasts, and sheer lace in a matching shade sweeps over the tops of her shoulders and the very tops of her arms. The full skirt hits just above her knees, leaving her long, toned legs exposed all the way down to those sexy, strappy heels.
Her hair is swept up off her neck in a mess of soft curls, held in place with jewel-accented pins. Only thin tendrils of loose hair have escaped, barely brushing the tops of her shoulders, and her smooth bangs fall perfectly over her smoky eyes. Even her makeup has a simple elegance to it. Nothing showy…just classic beauty. And the pale pink at her lips makes me want to kiss them until they take on that color all on their own.
“Are you just going to stand there and stare at me, or are you going to let me in?” Her question is full of laughter, making her eyes dance in the soft light.
“You’re stunning. Literally. I can’t move or think straight.” I open the door the rest of the way, allowing her to step inside. “That dress didn’t have those curves on the hanger.”
She leans forward and places a chaste kiss at my jaw. “You’re not so bad yourself, stud. Are you trying to make every woman here drool over you?”
“Just you.” I begin to snake my hands around her waist and pull her against me, but I pause to look over her shoulder. “Where’s Simon?”
“He wanted to watch the photographer, so he’s outside,” she explains, pressing her lips into a thin line. “I just wanted to let you know that we made it.”
I let out a long breath, feeling my lungs fully deflate before I fill them again to speak. “So he’s avoiding me now.” It’s not a question. I know he is.
She shrugs her shoulders and squeezes my hand. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but whatever it is will pass. You have enough on your plate to worry about today; we can talk to him about it tomorrow. He’ll probably be fine by the end of the day and everything will be completely back to normal. Simon can be a little temperamental at times.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I say, dragging her against me into an embrace. She melts into me, her body molding perfectly to mine as if it was made to do just that. Her face tucks right into my neck like a once-missing puzzle piece, making me feel whole. The same way I feel every time I’m with her.
A chill races down my spine when her warm breath caresses just under my chin, and my body shivers in response. The floral scent of her hair and her warm curves pressed against me aren’t helping my body’s reaction either. She does positively wicked things to me without even trying, without even being conscious of it.
“Dalton?” Makenna’s mom calls out from the end of the hall. “Are you decent? It’s time for groomsmen pictures.”
I press a lingering kiss just under Devyn’s earlobe before answering. “No, ma’am. I’m far from decent at the moment, but I’m dressed. I’ll be right out.”
Devyn smacks me playfully as Mrs. Madison wordlessly clunks away. “There’s no telling what she thinks you meant by that. She saw me come in here, you know. Now she probably won’t be able to look at us the rest of the day.”
“Well, she shouldn’t have asked that question. Nothing decent or moral is going through my mind when you’re this close to me.”
She shakes her head and smiles softly, looking up at me through her dark fringe of lashes. “Do you ever wish you could change the past?”
“That question is a little out of left field.” She doesn’t offer any explanation, so I think about my answer. “I guess I’ve thought about it before, but I wonder if I’d be the same person today without going through everything that I’ve gone through. Our pasts shape us…make us better and stronger than we were. What about you?”
“I only have one regret. I wish I had been given the chance to get to know you all those years ago. If I did, I’d like to think it would’ve been you waiting for me at the altar that day years ago, smiling as soon as our eyes met. It could’ve been you holding my hand while Simon was brought into this world or you teaching him how to pedal a bicycle or throw a ball. It could’ve been you cuddling with me in bed every night after a long work days. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, and I didn’t have it because it wasn’t you.”
Her eyes are brimmed with tears, and her chin quivers almost imperceptibly. She’s right, though. I wish it had been me, too. I always have.
I release her waist and take her face in my hands. “Devyn, I’ve wanted to be with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. You didn’t see me, but all I saw was you. Sawyer thought I was crazy, but I coul
dn’t get you out of my head, nor did I want to. I could say that nothing has changed, but honestly, everything has. I only thought I was in love with you then, but the more I get to know you, I realize it was only the beginning of so much more. I can’t contain it. I feel like it oozes out of me. We have a chance to have all that you said and more. I can’t change your past, but I can promise you the most fulfilling future imaginable, full of hope and love and adoration and laughter. All you have to do is let me give it to you.”
A single tear leaves a glistening trail from her eye to the corner of her mouth. “Okay,” she whispers.
“Dalton? Please, don’t make me come back there. We’re waiting on you.”
“On my way, Mrs. Madison. Sorry.” I kiss the tip of Devyn’s nose. “I better get out there. You coming?”
Her cheeks tug at the corners of her mouth and she nods once. “I’ll be out in a sec. I’m going to check my makeup first.”
I reluctantly back away from her and move toward the door, stopping for only a moment to look back at her. “You know…Sawyer told me that he can’t wait to see Makenna walking toward him down the aisle today, and I didn’t truly understand it at first. But I think I do now. Someday, all of this will be for us, and I’ll get to experience that moment for myself.”
Devyn folds her slender arms over her chest and smirks. “You seem pretty confident about that, Dalton Hoover. You’ve been back in my life for only three weeks, so there’s still plenty of time for me to scare you off. Besides, I don’t seem to remember you asking me to marry you.”
“I’m confident because I knew it the first time I kissed you. And you’re right. I haven’t asked you. But unlike Carter, I will, and you’ll know it when I do.”
Leaving her speechless is a rare treat.
THE WEDDING WENT exactly as planned.
Except the part where the minister tripped over his own robe. And when Makenna’s dad walked on her train. And especially exempting the part where I caught Sawyer checking out his wife’s chest pushed up high in her strapless gown, so I whispered to him that he could look at those later, sending a good portion of the wedding party into a fit of giggles. There were plenty of tears shed before the ceremony ever started, but they were all from laughing too hard.