Momma pressed a hand to her mouth and shook her head. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart.”
Everyone else murmured their agreement as they stood around the bride. Will’s dress was off the shoulder with a sweetheart neckline, a fairy princess gown made of all tulle. Lace roses trailed down the skirt, petals scattered about.
Nat stepped in front of her sister and handed her the bridal bouquet. “You ready to do this?”
Will accepted the flowers with a smile. “Been ready for years.”
At Nat and Asher’s wedding, things had been awkward. Not only had it all been sprung on them, but they’d also been dancing around each other, trying to balance the public persona of being in love, all while having experienced the mind-blowing kiss that morning in their bedroom.
Today couldn’t have been more different. While their paths hadn’t crossed much thanks to Nat’s bridesmaid and sisterly responsibilities, she’d felt his eyes on her all day. When Will and Finn had said their vows, she’d made the mistake of seeking him out.
He’d sat sandwiched between her momma, who had June in her lap, playing with her pearl necklace, and Gran, always the baby hog, entertaining Owen. And despite getting slapped in the face by a wayward baby fist, Asher hadn’t looked away from her.
She’d felt this overwhelming tug to go to him. Which was stupid for so many reasons. She hadn’t ever been controlled by her emotions. And besides, the emotions she was feeling now were just residual from the day’s festivities and her concern over the outcome of the custody hearing coming up.
It hadn’t mattered how much she’d wanted to go to him anyway, because her task list was full. First, there were the group photos with the definitely-not-as-good-as-her photographer. Then, she’d been pulled into a hundred different conversations with Havenbrook townsfolk, all of whom acted like they hadn’t just talked to her a couple weeks prior at her own wedding. And, of course, she’d had to make sure Will had been well fed and had plenty of water throughout the day, especially now knowing she was pregnant.
Watching the bride and groom had made Nat ache in a way she wasn’t at all familiar with. How Finn had looked at Will, how he’d held her—like she was precious. She’d snapped a photo of them when they no doubt thought no one was watching. They’d been off in a corner, Finn’s arms surrounding her, his hand resting on her belly, lips pressed to her temple. It was love captured in a single moment.
She had no idea why seeing them like that had her missing Asher. All day, they’d been like ships passing in the night. They hadn’t managed anything more than a quick kiss as they traded places, Asher passing the kids off to her as he grabbed his guitar and prepared to play for Will and Finn’s first dance.
All she could say was thank God for her nieces, because Ava and Ella were laughing and playing with June, keeping her occupied while Nat focused on Owen. The baby was contentedly sucking down a bottle in her arms, which meant she could focus on the man who’d taken the stage.
Asher wore what he’d worn to their wedding, and the sight stirred something deep inside her, a wave of possessiveness enveloping her, especially when his ring caught her eye.
He sat in the lone chair onstage, his guitar in his lap, and ran a hand through his hair before adjusting the mic. “How y’all doin’ tonight?”
The murmur of the crowd lowered until a hush fell over the room, everyone no doubt as mesmerized by his presence as she was. He’d always been magnetic on a stage—didn’t matter if he was the solo performer in a dive bar or if he was playing in a band with the lights of an arena on him.
“No, you didn’t get lost and end up at an open mic night,” he said, one side of his mouth kicking up in response to the crowd’s laughter. “Will asked me to come play for y’all tonight. So how about we get the bride and groom out here for their first dance?”
Finn led Will onto the dance floor, spinning her out and away from him before pulling her in close. Her sister laughed as she crashed into Finn’s chest, the two of them looking at each other like they were the only people in the room. And that damn ache settled in her chest again. Reflexively, her fingers twitched to capture the moment with her camera, but her hands were a little full.
It didn’t matter anyway, because her attention was snagged by the man strumming his guitar.
She returned her gaze to him, and their eyes locked as the first words of the song she’d yet to hear filtered out in his deep, gravelly voice.
I wanna breathe you in, to keep you inside.
But that’s only a cell, ’cause you were born to fly.
She’d been in the audience during those first open mic nights, when there were three people in the room—including her. She’d been backstage when he’d played on tour with Luke Bryan. She’d even been the one recording the video of him singing at The Bluebird Cafe that had gone viral. But none of the hundreds of times she’d listened to him sing had ever felt like this.
If I let you go, will you come back to me?
’Cause if so, baby, I’d set you free.
He strummed the chords, his fingers moving effortlessly over the strings. Fingers that had played her body just as well. His voice was a husky croon as he sang into the mic, his gaze she felt straight to her toes locked on hers.
I can’t keep pretending, don’t wanna try.
But, baby, you were born to fly.
She had little doubt that every single woman in the audience and a few of the men probably felt the exact same way she did. That was his job as a performer—to sell the performance. It didn’t matter that she was wearing his ring. Not really. Not when it wasn’t real.
Can’t stand the sight of you walking away, but I won’t beg you to stay.
I don’t know what’s right, don’t know what to do
