“Less insane, more… moonlit fantasy Omega bride,” she says, fanning her own eyes.
“Donotstart crying, Tansy,” I warn, stabbing a finger at her. “Because if you cry,Icry, and then my mascara runs, and then Ford loses his shit, and then Beck threatens to burn Sephora tothe ground while Hayes draws up the plans on how to cover the arson.”
“Worth it,” she says with a sniffle.
But she’s grinning, and so am I, because this, this right here, is the first moment today that feelsmine.
I turn toward the mirror and… wow.
Okay, yeah. I get why she’s freaking out. The dress fits like it was made for me. The neckline dips just enough to scandalize the old church ladies, and the silk skims over the tiny swell of my stomach. Which, yeah, not much of a secret anymore, but still. It feels… holy.
I’m walking out there carrying more than just myself.
And suddenly, my chest gets tight. Because this is real. The music floating up through the open window? Real. The laughter outside? Real. The three men probably pacing holes into the dirt under that big oak tree?
Real as hell.
Beck, probably glaring at Hayes for breathing too loud. Hayes, pretending he’s calm but vibrating under the surface. And Ford… God help whoever tries to talk to Ford right now. They’re waiting for me. For us.
For this.
Tansy notices me spiraling because, of course, she does. She crouches down, fusses with the hem. “Hey. Breathe. You’re fine. You’re safe. In, like, twenty minutes, you’re gonna walk out there and every single one of those people is going to choke on how perfect you look.”
I laugh, shaky. “I’m more nervous about the baby thing than the vows.”
She smirks. “Lo, your men have been growling at people for weeks. The whole damn town knows you’re pregnant. Pretty sure Ford has threatened to bubble wrap you at least twice.”
“True.” I grin because, yeah, that’s accurate.
Still, saying it out loud, in front of everyone, in the middle of the most perfect day of my life? That’s big. That’s… terrifying.
Outside, the wind kicks up, and I catch a whiff of wildflowers and pine. It smells like home. Everything I thought I’d lost and somehow got back. Plus, three ridiculously overprotective men who turned my world upside down and made it better.
Tansy stands, grabs my hands, her eyes shining. “You ready, Lo?”
My throat tightens. I take one last look in the mirror, at this version of me I barely recognize. Soft but steel-spined, a little broken, and a lot whole.
“Yeah,” I say, and I mean it. I’ve been doing more of that lately, saying the words that come along with my truth. “Let’s do this.”
She grins wildly. “Hell yeah.”
And then we’re out the door, down the stairs, toward the sound of a whole town waiting under an ancient oak tree… and three men who already own every piece of my heart.
The sun is showing off. Full Instagram filter mode. Everything is glowing in that soft, romantic, “Hallmark movie” kind of way. Main Street just got a fresh coat of blooming spring. Flower boxes spill petals everywhere, bunting strung between porches, the whole deal. Even the magnolia trees are doing their best impression of a Pinterest board.
And me? I’m sweating through silk.
Tansy is fussing with my veil for the seventeenth time because apparently, this stupid scrap of tulle holds the entire weight of my dignity. She keeps clicking her heels on the pavement like some kind of anxiety metronome while I try not to hurl into a planter full of begonias.
“Lo,” she hisses, yanking me back into line when I start drifting toward the bakery smell. “Do not eventhinkabout cupcakes right now.”
People are everywhere. Leaning on porch rails, peeking out of shop doors, pretending they justhappenedto be here for a casual Friday stroll in their nicest outfits. The town feels alive. And nosy.
Mostly nosy.
Every smile is a little too bright. They’re trying to decide if this is a redemption arc or a train wreck they don’t want to miss. Then the pavement ends, and we hit the dirt trail. The one that winds through the grove like a secret. My stomach decides this is a great time to start doing Olympic-level gymnastics. Because at the end of this trail?
The Old Oak Tree.
