The officiant smiled and pronounced the words that made everything permanent.
Levi pulled me close and kissed me. When we parted, foreheads still touching, he whispered, “Mrs. Barrett.”
I smiled through the tears I hadn’t realized were falling. “Mr. Barrett, my husband.”
We turned together, hand in hand, and walked back down the aisle to the sound of clapping, quiet sobs, and one small proud voice declaring, “I threw the petals really well.”
The river kept flowing. Warm sunset light, laced with rose and amber, continued pouring through the pines.
And we were married and finally, completely, irrevocably home.
Thank you for reading! Would you like more? Read First Sight, the wedding from Levi’s point of view!
Jude and Harper are coming January 12, 2027!
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Preview of Secret Heart
Jude
The reception had migrated from the riverbank back to my parents’ house, settling into something warmer and looser now that the formalities had melted away. Strings of amber lights looped between the porch beams and out into the yard, casting everyone in a gold that felt almost too pretty to be real. The air smelled like cut grass and honeysuckle, and the laughter coming from inside the house had that frequency—loud and genuine and slightly chaotic—that I’d grown up falling asleep to. Only tonight it felt different. Bigger, somehow. Like the house itself had exhaled with happiness.
I stood near the edge of the deck with a beer sweating against my palm, watching the easy disorder of it all. My parents’ voices tangled somewhere near the back door. Gram had commandeered the Bluetooth speaker. A cluster of my siblings and their spouses were attempting something that might generously be called dancing near the fire pit, but looked more like the Electric Slide gone awry.
Levi leaned against the railing beside me, tie loosened to the point of near surrender, his arm slung around Becca’s waist like it had been built specifically to rest there. She was laughing at something he’d said—not her polite laugh but her real one, the one that crinkled her nose—and her head had drifted to his shoulder with the easy weight of someone completely at home.
My brother looked like a man who’d won something and couldn’t quite believe the scoreboard was real.
“Still can’t believe you actually pulled it off,” I said, nudging his shoulder with mine. “Mr. Becca. Took you long enough—some of us aged visibly waiting.”
Levi turned that slow, stupid, completely unselfconscious smile on me. The one he used to try to hide whenever Becca was around and had apparently given up on entirely. “Worth every second. Every single one.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You’ll understand one day.”
“Doubt it,” I said pleasantly. “I’m far too busy being the charming best man who holds the whole thing together. Someone has to maintain the standard.”
Levi opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something that would require me to defend myself at length—but the words never landed, because Harper walked past us with a glass of champagne in each hand and whatever I’d been about to say evaporated somewhere between my brain and my mouth.
She’d done something to her hair since the ceremony—a few of the wildflowers had come loose, tucked now a little more precariously near her temple like they were reconsidering their commitment, and a soft wave had fallen forward against her cheek. Her dress was the kind of pale gold that made the string lights look like they were trying to compete with her and losing. She wasn’t looking at us yet. She was navigating the small crowd with that focused grace she had—the kind that made it look effortless.
Then she spotted us and altered her path just slightly.
“Here.” She held out one of the glasses to Becca with a warm, unhurried smile. “Dahlia sent me on a mission. She has very strong feelings about champagne distribution before the toasts.”
“Dahlia is my favorite person,” Becca said, accepting it.
“Don’t tell her that. She’ll start delegating to the rest of you.” Harper’s gaze moved then—briefly, just a few seconds—to me. Her expression didn’t change exactly, but something in it changed, the way still water shifts when something skims the surface. There was a flicker of something knowing and quietly amused, like she’d already anticipated whatever I was about to say and had prepared a response.
I liked that about her more than I had any good reason to.
“Try not to embarrass your brother too much in the speech, Jude.” Her voice had that low, even quality it always did—like she was sharing something rather than announcing it.
I pressed my free hand to my chest. Let the silence sit for exactly one beat, two, the way timing requires. “Embarrass him?” I shook my head slowly. “I’m wounded. I had an entire heartfelt monologue prepared about how Levi always cries during Pixar movies.Cocoalone—” I lowered my voice conspiratorially, “—at least three separate incidents.”
Levi made a noise.
