Page 109 of Coming Home Country

Tucker had been patient. He never gave up on me, even when our reconnection seemed hopeless.

In a matter of minutes, the wait would be over, and the man I’d loved for half my life would finally be my husband.

I would be Mrs. Tucker Grant. A name I’d practiced writing hundreds of times inside notebooks during class as I daydreamed about a life with him.

He must’ve heard the rustling of my dress on approach because his deep voice called out, “Bex?”

“Couldn’t wait an extra twenty minutes?”

Tucker chuckled. “And let everyone else see you before I do? No way.”

“That’s not very hospitable of you.” I tsked.

“Baby, if I could get away with locking you up to get all your attention for the rest of our lives, I’d do it. I’m greedy as hell when it comes to you.” His fingers flexed by his side. “I’m going to turn around now.”

“Okay.”

Nerves crept in, and I held my breath as Tucker spun slowly. The minute his eyes landed on me—dressed all in white, my hair swept up, and natural makeup on my face—he let out a ragged exhale, and his brilliant blue eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, Bex,” he breathed, closing the gap between us and pulling me into his arms. “God, how did I get so lucky? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” His words were reverent, and I didn’t have to question their sincerity. I knew he spoke the truth.

I blinked furiously, trying to keep my own tears at bay. “This how you imagined it?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s so much better.”

“This is it,” I whispered. “The start of our forever.”

“Yeah, baby, it is.” His lips dusted over mine. “Best we get a move on. We’ve kept it waiting long enough.”

With that, he linked his fingers with mine, and together we ran to the church.

The road may have been long and often painful, but it was worth it to reach this moment where we were overwhelmed by pure joy at the prospect of a future filled with love.