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EPILOGUE I
Standing on a ladder, I plug in the final strand of bulbs in the tree, then I climb the board on the tree trunk leading into the tree house. Bridget and I have spent the last several months in these woods, clearing dead trees and raking away the old leaves. These woods are where it all started; it only makes sense we make our vows to each other here too.
Long heavy swags of fabric are draped across the massive tree’s large sturdy lower limbs that will serve as the backdrop of our ceremony. We had eight benches made for our guests to sit on: four on each side of the wood-chipped aisle. A set of tall old church doors are freestanding at the end of the aisle for our guests to walk through before they enter the sanctuary of these trees. A few ferns have been transplanted outside each bench, which serves as a nice pop of greenery next to the tall square lanterns.
We kept the wedding small and private, only inviting around thirty guests. A mix of friends and close family. I chose not to invite my mother. Jack is my best man, and Micky is her maid of honor. Maddie will be our little flower fairy. After we presented her with the dress-up wings she gets to wear down the aisle, she put them on right away, and Auds says they can barely get her to take them off at home. She is taking her role very seriously.
I think back to the day we walked away from each other in this very spot. The gut-wrenching memories of her rejection have been replaced with new ones filled with love and the promise of our future. I look out the tree house window and survey all of our hard work. I’m shocked at how well this has all come together. It’s a simple layout, but she’s done a terrific job bringing her vision to fruition. Bridget pads across the floorboards in the tree house and wraps her arms around me from behind.
“Do you think we have enough wood chips?” I ask her.
She grabs my sides and turns me to face her. I drop a kiss on her temple. There’s a smudge of dirt on her cheek, and her messy ponytail is barely holding together. Some of the strands pulled loose by tree branches, as evidenced by the small stick trapped in her hair. We’ve been hanging strands of globe lights in the pine trees to light the long aisle we’ll walk down as husband and wife. I carefully untangle it from her hair and drop it back to the ground.
She’s wearing overalls, like she used to as a kid. The metamorphosis of young Birdie to grown makes my heart swell. I hate that we missed out on so many years together. I would have preferred to have been childhood sweethearts, though I can’t imagine all the trouble we might have gotten into in this very tree house as teenagers. Instead, I plan to make it up by giving her every one of my days for the rest of my life.
“I think the two truckloads are more than enough. Aren’t I the one that’s supposed to be all wrapped up in the aesthetics?”
“Yeah, you are. But since you refuse to go all Bridezilla on me, I’ve had to step into the role. I want this to be the wedding of your dreams.”
“In the wedding of my dreams, I get to marry the man of my dreams. I’ve already locked that down, the rest is just details.” She waves her hand.
“You think you can lock this down, huh?” I joke, gesturing to myself.
“Please.Like a penitentiary.”
It’s true.
“That so, warden?” I muse, unclicking one of her overall straps.
“Haven’t you heard? I’ve ruined all other women for you. I’m Bridget-fucking-Hayes.”
“Not for long,” I remind her, unclasping the second overall strap, the buckles slide off her shoulders and the bib falls, exposing that soft spot on her stomach I find so goddamn sexy.
“I can’t believe I love you so much that I’m willing to walk back into the social security office and ask for another name change.”
My gaze falls to her lips as she darts her tongue out to wet them. I notice her chest rising and falling quicker, and it causes me to smirk. I reach up and pull out the loose hair tie, letting down her hair.
“I can.”
When I drop to my knees in front of her, she threads her fingers into my hair and draws her nails from the nape of my neck to my forehead. It’s something she absentmindedly performs every time I eat her pussy, and now she’s got my dick trained to get hard every time she does it. I push up her t-shirt and grip her sides while I lay kisses across her stomach and hip bones.
“Lonan...” she breathes. “Everyone is home. They could come out and check on us any minute.”
I untie the laces of her shoes and slip them off her feet. Then grasp the denim and pull the overalls down to her ankles so she can step out of them.
“With the way you scream, they’ll definitely be coming out here to check on us.” I chuckle, giving her a hard nudge onto the plush bed behind her. Her hair fans out around her like a sunbeam. Lifting herself on her elbows, she gives me a soft smile. That smile weakens my knees, but my love for her blooms in my chest when I see the sparkle in her stormy eyes.
“You’re the worst.”
I bring my knees up to the bed and straddle her thighs. Leaning down, I hover my mouth just above hers. She leans in to kiss me, and I pull back, thwarting her advances and watching her squirm.
“Fine, then I’m not kissing you,” she says, clapping her thighs closed.
I chuckle and give in. My mouth meets hers in a slow, sensual kiss, and I nip at her lower lip before soothing it with the tip of my tongue. I love how impatient she is for me, and I feel her trying to turn our kiss into something more urgent, but I don’t let it. I slide my knee between hers and slide it to the apex of her thighs. When my knee brushes her panties, she lets out a small whimper. She’s so sweet.
“Fuck, I love you,” I growl.
“I love you too,” she pants out, her breaths picking up.
