“Hang on. I’ll check in with the music,” she whispers and hurries along the carpet.
The huge, winding red carpet was Dan’s idea, and it felt like a little much in the planning stage.
Now that it’s forging the perfect path, it’s everything.
I start down it slowly, the priest having caught Kane’s attention so he’s facing away from me.
Good.I want to see the wildfire in his eyes when he notices me walking down the aisle toward him, counting down the seconds.
One.
We step through a wooden arch threaded with white roses. There’s a low hum through the crowd as they realize I’ve arrived.
Two.
Kane turns, and the band starts up.
And there, right in the middle, I see Dan with his drums and the most serious look on his face.
He barely stops to grin up at me as he does a little solo, the rest of the band backing off to give him space.
Three.
Holy potato, here come the tears.
“Good luck—you’ll kill it!” Hattie whispers, and she pulls Sophie back gently so I can walk in front of them.
Four.
It’s a shorter aisle, which means I’m already close enough to Kane to notice the slack-jawed wonder on his face, the lopsided smile he holds in, and when I take another two steps, the sheen in his eyes.
I stop counting because it doesn’t matter anymore.
I’m not freaked out by all the eyes on me.
I’m not second-guessing.
I’m not afraid.
How could Ieverbe anything else than ready to jump into tomorrow with his man?
“I love a man who cries at weddings,” I whisper playfully as soon as I’m close enough.
Ethan snickers loudly in the front row. Hattie slaps him.
“I don’t cry at weddings, woman,” Kane murmurs. “Just mine. I thought you were beautiful before, but now…”
He doesn’t finish.
He doesn’t need to.
The awe etched on his face leaves me in shambles.
“Y-you don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. Saint.” I force down the boulder in my throat.
But I do mean it.
There he is, decked out in this magnificent deep-teal suit with a yellow rose pinned on, so vivid it glows—presumably courtesy of my mother.
