Our crowd erupts in cheers.
I think Holden’s folks roar the loudest as he pulls me back up again.
“Show-off,” I mutter, catching his cheek in my hand.
He kisses my palm. “For you, yes.”
I grin and kiss him again before we walk down the aisle, man and freaking wife.
The sun shines on, the calm water laps softly against the shore, and the musician we hired to play the cello makes my heart hurt with boundless energy. The music perfectly matches the mood here today.
We hold the reception in PopPop’s enormous great room with borrowed furniture and rented lights dancing across the carpet.
Holden and I sway together for our first dance—another thing I had to talk him into—and then Kit joins us for a more energetic version that makes me giggle.
Everything she does is adorable chaos and I love her so much.
Right now, she feels more like a little sister than a daughter, but I know I’m filling a hole in her life. A new parent.
Someone to give her advice as she sails into her teen years.
All the thingsnotto do, and I have plenty of lessons. Probably should start making a list soon.
“Congratulations, girl! Last but not least to rock a wedding Blackthorn style.” Margot grins, hanging off the arm of her massive husband with their kids flanking them.
She winks at me.
I have to bite back my smile.
I just know she’s thinking back to our chat when she told me to buck up and go for it.
“Thanks.” I kiss her cheek and reach up to hug Kane. “I’m over the moon.”
“You look stunning,” Margot says.
“So do you. I’ll never get over that dress.”
She preens and Kane’s hand slides a little too low down her backside. She giggles, and I lean back into Holden’s warmth.
He wraps a hand around my hip, drawing me closer, possessive as ever. This wedding haze must be going to everyone’s head.
Honestly, I don’t mind.
We spend the rest of the evening drinking and dancing and eating too much. When the party moves outside to Gramps’ huge outdoor patio under the moon and stars, we slip away while the rest of the crowd soaks in their sixth, seventh, eighth dances of the night.
We take the side door that cuts through the old library.
The massive desk is gone with the rest of the furniture, but there’s a presence in the air. Like Gramps might still pop in at any moment, even though he’s been gone for too long.
“I miss you,” I whisper into the darkness. “I never did get a chance to thank you for bringing us together.”
I imagine him sitting by the fire, smiling smugly, like he always planned it this way.
Who knows, maybe he did.
The man had strange, mystic instincts, though it’s hard to believe he meant to set anyone up besides Ethan and Hattie.
When Gramps died, his family was in tatters. Everyone was trapped, wrestling their own demons.
