I look behind him to see my father.
“Absolutely.”
My father pulls Logan into a quick embrace. “Welcome to the family, son.” He gives a sly wink as he wraps his arms around me. Marshall steps in and does the same, and it’s a euphoric feeling to see the two of them enmeshed as one.
“Skyla,” my father sings my name like a love song. “Promise me you’ll go easy on her.”
“It depends which her you’re talking about.” I blink up at him, feeling defiant against my father for the first time in years.
“The one who bore you.” He takes a deep breath, and I can feel his chest press to mine. “I love you. Know this, it will all work out. I’ve seen a little glimpse into the future. My wedding gift to you is letting you know that the surprise of a lifetime awaits you.”
“That’s the gift?” I tip my ear his way. “Are you sure there isn’t more? It sounds an awful lot like a teaser.”
He chuckles. “That’s the gift.” He plants a kiss to my cheek. “You’re the gift.”
We dance until the songs pick up speed. Soon Ellis, Giselle, Bree, Drake, Em, Ethan, Michelle, Nat, Lexy, Ezrina, Nev, Laken, Coop, Wes, and even Chloe Bishop join Logan and me as the dance floor swells with the gyrating crowd.
Dinner is a buffet, serve yourself, when you want, as often as you want. We’re not following any tradition. I toss the bouquet right here on the dance floor, and it rises high, spiraling back down and right into Mia Landon’s wedding-hungry hands.
We laugh. We cry. All night we have a riotous party until the stars spray over the sky like the silent glittering witnesses they are.
Laken is one of the last to leave as she pulls me in and gives me a hug.
“Congratulations.” Her lips quiver.
“Thank you. Hey? Are you okay?”
She looks back where Coop and Wes are locked in a heated discussion, their voices hushed.
“I’m fine.” She warms my arms with her hands. “Enjoy the night.” She gives Logan a sharp look before the three of them take off.
Logan slips his arm around my waist as he looks to Coop and Wes who stalked off with a meager wave.
“Logan, you know something.” I give his tie a yank. “No secrets.”
“I’m not the one with the secret. But don’t worry. I’ll make sure we get to the bottom of this after tonight.”
“Tonight.” I bite down on a smile.
My mother took the boys home, and it’s just Logan and me here at Whitehorse.
We make our way to the porch, and Logan scoops me into his arms as a bubbling laugh expels from me.
“I love you more than the heavens love the sun and the moon,” he whispers the words directly into my ear—the same words he painted over the front door of this very house all those years ago.
Logan carries me up the stairs, across the threshold into the home he built for me with his love, and all the way up to our bedroom.
He makes slow, sweet love to me, and we are lost in all of our bliss.
This is perfect love.
This is bliss.
In the morning—correction, late the next afternoon—Logan and I rouse to life, still tangled in a fleshy knot, our shared satisfaction written on our faces.
My hand slaps over the nightstand for the phone.
“Really?” He gives my hip a slight tickle and I buck.
