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Lydia laughed and wiped at her eyes, and then hooted and cheered with everyone else as Aspen took Eve into her arms and kissed her like she’d die if she didn’t.
It was perfect.
In the celebration, Lydia’s eyes naturally found Zann’s, and her heart squeezed as a little voice in the back of her head mused with dreamy conviction, Someday, it’ll be our turn.
“Aspen and Eve Collier-West!” Michelle declared joyously, calling an official end to the ceremony.
Lydia held Zann’s gaze as she clapped for the couple as they began making their way back down the aisle, together this time, as they belonged. Her smile widened as the wedding parties began to fall into line to follow the brides, the atmosphere absolutely euphoric as those precious few who’d come to celebrate with Aspen and Eve applauded and cheered for them. She felt a tug in her chest when she took Zann’s arm, and Zann’s free hand immediately covered hers, holding it in place.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Aspen so happy,” Zann shared as they followed in Michael and Alder’s steps.
“I’ve definitely never seen Eve this happy.” Lydia hugged Zann’s arm tighter and leaned her head on her shoulder. “I’m so happy for them.”
“Me too.” Zann caressed her hand tenderly in time with their steps. “Our girls did good.”
“Yeah,” Lydia sighed, smiling as she watched Eve lift her chin for a kiss that Aspen immediately delivered. “They really did.”
While the guests made their way back to the patio and dining room for the reception, the full wedding party and the Colliers and Wests lingered on the beach for one more round of formal pictures.
“All right!” Imani called, lifting a hand to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s start this off with all you beautiful people who aren’t color-coordinated”—Lydia arched a brow when she winked at her and Zann—“and the brides, so that you can get up to the party to entertain the guests.”
Lydia huffed a little laugh when Zann kissed her cheek quickly and said, “I’ll be back,” and bit her lip in a completely failed attempt to contain her smile as she watched Zann jog over to where Imani was coordinating the group. She couldn’t hear what the two were saying, but Imani’s mischievous grin and the way Zann was holding her hand out and staring her down were more than enough to clue her in to what was happening.
When it seemed the pair were more than willing to hold the stalemate forever, Lydia took it upon herself to end it. “Give her the camera!” she yelled, and then laughed at the playfully wounded look Imani gave her. “You’ll get it back soon enough!”
“Damn, Lyds,” Kit giggled. “Yelling at the assassin? Respect.”
Lydia snorted in surprise and glanced over at Kit. “Assassin?”
Kit nodded and gestured at Imani, who, Lydia was glad to see, was in the process of handing over the camera to Zann. “Tell me she doesn’t look like she could be an assassin.”
Lydia hummed as she watched Imani make her way toward them. Imani’s tall, lean build and confident bearing radiated a kind of competence that could be mistaken as a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, but she’d stared down too many overinflated egos in her career to be fooled by it. There was just too much humor in Imani’s expressive face for Lydia to find her threatening. “I’m not seeing it.”
“What? How can you not—?”
“You know,” Imani interrupted Kit’s spluttering, her dark eyes crinkling with laughter, “you and Zee can’t both be demanding.”
Lydia smirked. “Says who?”
Imani barked out a laugh. “Fair enough, I guess. Zee needs someone who’ll keep her on her toes.”
“Oh, Lydia will definitely do that,” Kit chimed in.
“I bet.” Imani winked at Kit.
“Should I leave so you two can continue talking about me?” Lydia drawled.
“That’d ruin the fun of it,” Imani quipped as she jabbed Lydia’s side with a playful elbow. “And, don’t tell her, but I got some good pics of y’all walking down the aisle.”
“Why don’t you want me to tell her that?” Lydia asked.
Imani shrugged and gestured toward where Zann was taking pictures of the brides with Aspen’s parents. “I figure she’ll need a little pick-me-up surprise when she’s moping about missing you and trying to distract herself by culling and editing the eleventy-million pictures we’re going to take today.”
“Ahh…” Lydia smiled. “But what if I want to see them?”
“Please,” Kit scoffed. “Like she wouldn’t share them with you, like, immediately.”
“And make her favorite the lock screen on her phone,” Imani added.
