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“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, his lips a hairsbreadth from mine.
Our lips came together in a slow, deep kiss fraught with emotion. Blood hummed in my ears, drowning out the world. Eyes closed, I floated, surrounded by Atley. His smell and taste. I clenched fistfuls of his shirt with desperate fingers, wishing the kiss would never end.
Breathing could wait. I was kissing the man I loved.
Atley was my reward for being brave and finding a new life when my old one turned to dust, and I wanted to savor him.
When he finally lifted his head from mine, our gazes met. His eyes reflected everything I felt ten times over.
He cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. “That was a hell of a kiss, Rae. Can’t wait to get you somewhere private and strip you naked and make love to every delectable inch of your body.” The panty-melting smile that curved his lips made my knees weak.
“I love you and that plan.”
“Darling, you are amazing. Before we go home and I help you out of the pants you didn’t want to wear today, I’m going to ask again. What do you think of the house?”
“It’s lovely, just needs paint.” No doubt or fear tinged my reply. I loved him, and the idea of a future here with him was spectacular. But the hot pink paint had to go.
“Just paint?” He slipped his hand down my neck, his thumb resting over my racing pulse at the base of my throat.
“Just paint.”
Epilogue
Rae
The bride wore aflounced lace dress. The groom jeans, boots, and a tan suit coat. Mason jars overflowing with white daisies and baby’s breath decorated every table and the bar in the dancehall. A rustic arch with vines and burlap ribbons framed the couple saying their vows on the small stage. It was the wedding I’d envisioned the first time Wilson showed me the dancehall.
I wiped a tear from my cheek. This part always got to me—theto have and to holdpart. Lara’s dad, Sherman Phelps, played the role of wedding officiant perfectly. I squeezed Atley’s hand, and he kissed my temple. He’d totally make fun of me for tearing up later. I never cried. Well, almost never. Weddings were myone huge exception. And Wanda and Melvin’s ceremony was beautiful. Sweet, simple, and traditional.
I caught another stray tear with my knuckle, and the late afternoon sun glinted off my engagement ring. Atley had popped the question a few weeks ago, and I said yes. Love was in the air in Elmer. We’d scheduled our wedding for next month. Wilson and Cameron had tentatively selected a date in the spring. And today it was all about Wanda and Melvin.
“You may kiss your bride,” Sherman finished.
Melvin whooped and grabbed Wanda, tipping her back and sealing their lips together for a toe-curling kiss. Wanda kicked up one leg, giving the audience a peek at the purple snakeskin cowboy boots under her white dress.
“May I present Mr. and Mrs. Melvin Edson.” Sherman stepped back and let the new couple bask in the love of their friends and family.
We all jumped up to applaud the couple. Al from the VFW hall picked up his fiddle and started playing the twangiest, most countryfied version of the wedding march I’d ever heard. Melvin planted one more kiss on his blushing bride’s cheek and raised their clasped hands up. The high-voltage smile on his weathered face could have powered most of downtown Austin for the rest of the day.
Amaryllis passed Wanda her bouquet of daisies and Dwight the bulldog’s leash, and the three strolled down the aisle and outside to where the cocktail reception under the oak trees would happen. The first ever wedding at the dancehall was in the books.
Atley and I made sure the event staff I’d hired didn’t have questions about changing the main room from a ceremony space to a dining room before joining the throng of people outside. It seemed like most of Elmer was here either as a guest of Wanda and Melvin or as a staff member for Blue Star. Many, like meand Atley, were both. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the MVPs of today’s wedding, Harley and Annabelle. They’d completed the kitchen build-out just in time for today’s nuptials, throwing all their workforce at the project after Milton offered them each a hand-selected pair of boots if he and Wanda could get married at Blue Star before Thanksgiving.
Harley and Annabelle’s build-out had come together flawlessly. The chef from Austin hired to cater today’s party had oh-ed and ah-ed over the state-of-the-art setup. My brother had happily paid for the rush construction when I told him how much interest I had online for event bookings. As soon as I opened the calendar, reservations started filling in the available dates.
The rumor around town was that Milton wanted to have a big family Thanksgiving with his new bride. And Wanda desperately wanted to get married at the dancehall. It was such an Elmer moment, everyone making this fabulous couple’s dreams come true. Damn, more tears threatened to fall as I thought about it.
“Are you going to be okay?” Atley wrapped an arm around me and hugged me close.
“I’ve always gotten emotional at weddings.” I snuffed.
“It’s adorable.”
I fanned my face and blinked. “Thank you. I think.”
“How will you manage at our wedding?” He leaned down to whisper the question in my ear as we shuffled through the crowd of wedding guests.
“By holding your hand and remembering I’m marrying the hottest cowboy in Texas.”
