She blushed, then stuck out her tongue at him. “Oscar, hush.”
We turned onto the dirt lane that led to the ceremony site, the evergreens closing in overhead, and even from the gate you could see the effect Maddie and Pearl had on the place. Edison bulbs hung in long zigzags from tree to tree, their filaments winking gold in the late light. Twinkle lights threaded the evergreens, and rows of folding chairs arced in a perfect half-moon around the makeshift altar—a table draped in linen, topped with candles and a huge wildflower arrangement. There were even “reserved” signs on the front row, each name written in Parker’s handwriting.
Aspen went silent as we rolled to a stop. I saw the moment it hit her—what all her work, all her mornings and sweat and sugar had led to. She reached for my hand and squeezed.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.
Aspen let out a shaky laugh. “I’m a little terrified.”
I leaned across and kissed her, gentle but sure. “You’re never alone, Sunshine. Not now.”
She nodded, and I could feel her steady herself through the bond.
We unloaded the cakes; I carried the big ones, Aspen did the detail work, and Oscar rode shotgun on the cart. I watched her slide straight into work mode, hands sure and quick as sheunlatched each box, inspected every tier, and set up her arsenal of spatulas and piping bags.
Aspen’s focus was absolute. Her hands didn’t shake, not even a little, as she stacked layer upon layer, spun the turntable with her palm, piped intricate pearls of buttercream along each seam. Her lips moved as she worked, whispering measurements and prayers, and I could see the magic in every motion.
Oscar stood sentry beside her on the table, paws folded, his tail flicking every time someone wandered too close to the perimeter.
“Careful,” he told a passing child. “Cake is at the heart of the event. It must not be disturbed.”
The child blinked, then scurried off to find safer entertainment.
I checked the bond and found Aspen lost in her work. She was on the final touches now, dusting edible pearls onto the buttercream and arranging candied flowers in a spiral down the side. The sunlight hit her hair and made it glow, and for a second I just stood and stared.
She looked up and caught me watching.
“You’re making me nervous,” she mouthed, but she smiled.
Oscar snorted. “His face, miss. He’s quite besotted.”
She laughed, then smoothed her dress and went back to work.
Just then, Maddie came by the table. “Look at this,” she said, eyes wide at the cake. “Aspen, you’re a genius. Pearl is going to cry.”
“Don’t let her near the kitchen knives if she does,” I said, and Maddie cackled.
Pearl herself came running up, flowered apron tied over a black dress. “You did it, honey,” she exclaimed, pulling Aspen into a hug that left flour on both of them.
“It’s perfect,” Pearl whispered in her ear, and I could see Aspen’s eyes go glassy.
We left them to finish the setup and headed home to change.
*
Aspen beat me to the closet, already unzipping the garment bag that hung on the back of the door. She held the dress up in front of her—a soft, almost-blush pink, the sleeves sheer to the elbow, the neckline square and modest, the bodice fitted and the skirt flaring out just enough to make her look like a 1950s movie star. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, and that was before she even put it on.
I showered quickly, then went to my side of the closet. The suit had arrived the week before, tailored by Menace’s favorite shop in Amarillo: navy, with a black-and-blue brocade vest, white shirt, and a black silk tie. I tied it twice before I got it right, hands shaking the whole time.
I could hear Aspen on the other side of the bathroom door, humming as she did her hair. I finished dressing and turned to the mirror. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t see the scars or the lines or the broken pieces. I saw a man who belonged here, who’d earned every inch of this moment.
The door opened, and Aspen stepped out, dress swirling beyond her feet, hair loose and shiny as a raven’s wing. She stopped short when she saw me.
“Wow,” she breathed, then again, “Wow.”
I tried to say something, but the words died. She looked like a dream, and I think I loved her more in that instant than I ever had before.
She crossed to me and straightened my tie, her hands gentle. “You’re so handsome,” she whispered.
