AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I walk over to the Crockpot first, but I can feel him standing far too close behind me. Awareness prickles along the back of my neck as I remove the lid and set it aside.
“I guess Jet got it wrong,” Jonathan says.
Frowning, I glance back at him. “Got what wrong?”
He smirks. “Guess it was Professor Plum with the ice cube in the living room.”
Epilogue
Kennedy
“Stop fucking moving.”
I sigh heavily as Jonathan stands behind me on the beach, untangling the veil comb from my unruly curls. “You’re pulling my hair,” I complain.
“I’ll pull it harder if you don’t keep still and shut that pretty mouth.”
His words make my cheeks warm. I huff at him. “You’re so mean to me.”
I’m not being serious, though, and he knows it.
Not that he would care if I were.
Jerk.
Finally, he gets the veil comb untangled. He gently works it back into my hair and secures it so the veil doesn’t try to blow away again.
“There. It should stay on this time.”
I wish I had a mirror so I could check. Since I don’t, I turn around to face him. “Do I look pretty?”
His lips tug up and he looks me over with warmth and far too much familiarity. “Gorgeous.”
I grin. “Thanks. So do you,” I say mostly to be polite, but hedoeslook very handsome in his tan suit and white dress shirt.
Our wedding is intimate and beach-casual, so there’s no vest or tie. His snowy white dress shirt is open at the throat with an extra button undone below it because he’s Jonathan and he has to show off his excessive hotness.
On the way down the beach, literally walking beside mein a wedding gown and veil, two girls in bikinis slowed down to giggle and make eyes at him.
His appeal cannot be stopped, apparently.
“You ready for this?” he asks.
I nod confidently. “Absolutely.”
He nods, offering his arm.
I take it, my hand curling around his muscular bicep as I stay close and continue the rest of the way down the beach to where the wedding ceremony is set up.
Butterflies fill my tummy and warmth fills me to bursting.
I can’t believe this is really happening.
Growing up, I was never the little girl who dreamed about her wedding day. My dad’s wedding spelled the end of our parent-child relationship, and my mom had never married. None of my mom’s married friends seemed especially aspirational. They had husbands or wives they cheated on or referred to like chains wrapped around their necks, choking the life out of them and draining all their joy. My mom’s best friend was the only one who loved her husband, but that was after he got sent to prison for kidnapping her—actually, threatening to kill her and stuffing her into a trunk after they had a fight and she stormed out of the house, but kidnapping was the charge that stuck.
I was only a kid, but I was smart enough to know that probably wasn’t what love should look like.
I also wasn’t a kid who followed in the footsteps of a woman I could hardly stand.
