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TAYLOR WALKED BESIDE HER BROTHER into the bridal salon. Matt insisted on waiting in the car to avoid any accidental dress sightings and both men insisted she not walk the twelve feet from the parking lot to the front door by herself. She let them know what she thought of their enforced helplessness, but she didn’t push the issue, partly because she suspected Adam wanted to walk her in so he had a chance to steal a kiss from his wife Erica.
He reinforced her opinion by leaving her side as soon as they were inside the door, making a beeline across the salon to the beautiful woman who’d stolen his heart and carried his child. Taylor loved her brothers, and she loved the way they fell in love even more. They fell hard, fast, and completely. It was as if their lives completely realigned, and their focus centered on the women they loved. It made her heart grow to see the knuckleheads she’d grown up with totally devoted to the women who’d become like sisters to her. Add children into the mix, both the ones they had a hand in making and the children of their hearts, and her brothers lost their minds. It was a beautiful thing.
She’d never really considered kids beyond the vague someday kind of assumption. And she was nowhere near ready to think about putting the career she’d just started on hold. She couldn’t help but wonder though, what it would be like to have Matt’s baby. He’d make an awesome dad. She knew it with every fiber of her being and the idea of seeing him love their child stole her breath for a moment.
“Come on. Come on,” said her sister Rachel, grabbing her arm and shaking her out of her thoughts.
“Out,” said Bailey, pushing Adam away from a grinning, slightly dazed-looking Erica and toward the door. “Y’all can do the kissing thing later. We’re on a schedule.”
Without giving her time to muster a protest, Rachel whisked her across the salon and pushed her toward the dressing rooms. She barely had a moment to press a kiss to her mother’s cheek, before her bossy older sister shoved her behind the curtain and told her to strip. She couldn’t complain. Rachel was the most organized person she knew, and she’d make sure no details fell through the crack. Both her sisters and her sisters-in-law had stepped in and taken over to make sure the wedding went exactly as it was supposed to. If the planning had been up to her, she’d have been lucky to have something to wear.
And that would have been a tragedy, she thought. She glanced at the lace gown that hung from a hook on the wall, waiting for her to try it on one last time. Every time she saw the dress, with its fitted lace bodice and delicate beaded belt, her heart bloomed a little. The straps of the sleeveless dress led to the deep V neckline and narrow waist before the skirt flared to a simple A line. Lace appliques overlay the tulle skirt, becoming more elaborate as they skimmed the hem.
It was perfect, everything she’d ever imagined, and it made her feel like a bride. Quickly shedding her clothes, she stepped into the satin-lined skirt and pulled up the bodice. Putting on the dress pushed her worry about the painting to the back of her mind, at least for the moment.
“Here, darling, let me help you.” The seamstress pushed aside the curtain and hurried to fasten the row of tiny buttons that started just above the small of her back and traveled to the top of her butt.
She pictured Matt’s large hands, rough from the iron work he did, against the delicate buttons and felt her skin flush. When he helped her out of the dress, it would be as her husband. The thought settled in for real this time and tears pricked her eyes. She was marrying Matt, the one man—the only man—who was perfect for her, and she was going to do it wearing this dress.
The seamstress looked up from the last of the buttons and smiled as she took in Taylor’s expression. “That’s a lucky man you’re marrying, to have such abeautifulbride.”
“I’m the lucky one.” Taylor covered her mouth to hold back the tears and the emotions threatening to overwhelm her.
“Get out here and let us see you, Southerland!” shouted Candace, Andrew’s love. Somewhere along the way, Candace had adopted Matt’s name for her.
She and Taylor had gotten off to a rocky start, but seeing the way the other woman loved the man she thought she’d end up with and, more importantly, the way she kept him on his toes, made it impossible not to like her. Taylor still couldn’t believe she and Andrew had taken time out of their busy schedules as an attorney and scientist to come home for the wedding. It meant the world to her.
Pushing those thoughts aside because they wouldn’t help stem the tears, she sucked in a breath and stepped out of the dressing room. Any ideas she’d had of not letting emotion swamp her vanished when she looked into the faces of her sisters and the women who’d become as close to her as sisters. They were all there: Bailey and Rachel, and Autumn, Summer, Erica, Samantha, and Candace, watching her with tears filling their eyes. Taylor still managed to hold it together—barely—until her mother, Emily, came to stand behind her, a delicate track of tears marking her pale, surprisingly smooth skin.
“My baby. You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. Inside and out. Your daddy would be so proud.” Her voice caught on a sob and Taylor stopped trying to hold back the bittersweet tears and let them fall. She’d missed her father every day since he passed away, but it was harder when she bumped into rituals where he should be—meeting the man she was going to marry, walking her down the aisle. He’d left behind a hole that would never be filled.
“Okay, okay,” said Rachel, blotting her eyes as she passed out tissues. “Enough crying. You’re going to get water spots on the dress.” She walked around Taylor, eyeing her critically before finally throwing her hands up and folding her in a hug.
Taylor breathed in the soft floral scent of her big sister’s perfume and felt the strength in her arms. She’d always been blessed to have her family to draw on for strength and support. Even when they didn’t understand her, they were there for her. After Matt left and she’d been by herself, trying to figure out her path as an artist, she hadn’t been alone. She had her cousins and her siblings and a mother who’d always made her a priority. It was woven into every fiber of her being. She couldn’t unknow it if she wanted to.
Matt hadn’t had that experience. He’d been adamant about keeping his estranged family away from them and their wedding. As hard as it had been for her to understand, she respected and trusted his decision. She also hoped he knew—really knew—that marrying her meant he was getting a family too. A big, noisy, pushy bunch of people who would do anything in the world for him. She couldn’t wait to take her vows and make it true. She couldn’t wait to be his wife. Smoothing her hands over her lace skirt, she smiled at her reflection in the mirror.
“I’m getting married.”
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MATT FOLLOWED ADAM into the police station and bit back the thread of panic that threatened to rise at the familiar sounds and smells. Jesus, it had been over a decade since his brush with law enforcement and his time in prison, but it all came rushing back like it was yesterday. He’d chosen a different path. He’d done his time and walked away from the life he lived to build a new one. A better one. He’d escaped his past but he hadn’t escaped the shame. It waited for a crack in his armor and then came flooding back in, threatening to drag him under.
Taylor’s love was the one thing that continually saved him. He’d told her every hateful thing he’d done, everything he’d been ashamed of, and she still loved him. She stood by him and agreed to bind her life to his. He wasn’t about to let his past win, let it rear up and ruin the best thing that ever happened to him. He’d spend every day for the rest of his life working to be the man Taylor believed he was. The man he wanted to be.
“In here,” said Adam, ushering him past the uniform cops to one of the interrogation rooms at the back.
The obligatory one-way mirror covered one wall and flimsy generic chairs surrounded the table. The only thing distinguishing it from the rooms Matt had spent time in was the laptop in the center of the table and the circumstances. The angry-looking detective sitting on the other side of the table matched his memories.
“I agreed to make space for you, Southerland. As a courtesy. What’s he doing here?”
Matt didn’t need to ask the question to know the Roanoke cop had already run him through the system and found his record.Fuck. Not only did he have the always-present worry about his past embarrassing Taylor, but now he had to contend with it sidetracking the investigation into finding who destroyed her painting.
“Nice to see you, too, Johnson.” Adam pulled out a chair opposite the laptop and motioned for Matt to sit. “My future brother-in-law is the one most likely to recognize whoever is in that video. That makes him an asset, don’t you think?”
He could tell by the way the other man punched the words brother-in-law that he meant to show support for Matt. As grateful as he was to the family who’d taken him in as one of their own, it didn’t alleviate his embarrassment at putting Adam in a position to have to defend him.
