The tie chokes me worse than any zombie ever could. I yank at it, cursing under my breath as Cameron slaps my hand away.
It’s been eleven months of building this cottage into a home.
Living, laughing, and surviving.
And now I’m standing on the balcony, waiting to marry the woman I never thought I’d have.
“Stop fidgeting.” Cameron readjusts the strip of fabric around my neck. “You nervous?”
“No.”
“Liar.” Cameron grins, adjusting his own tie.
We’re all wearing the cleanest clothes we could find—button-downs that almost fit, pants without holes. Nothing fancy. Nothing that screams wedding. But that’s not what this is about.
I wouldn’t have believed this moment possible. Marriage wasn’t on my radar. Never had been. The life I led didn’t leave room for soft things like wedding vows and forever promises.
And Dakota?
She was supposed to be a complication. A duty. My brother’s fiancée. Ex-fiancée.
Now I can’t imagine my life any other way.
Can’t imagine waking up without her curled against my chest. Can’t imagine a future that doesn’t include her singing, or the way she touches her wrist when she’s nervous, or how she looks at me like I’m a reason to live for.
“Sorry, I’m late,” Cole comes through the balcony door. “The chickens got out again.”
I roll my eyes as he strides over, brushing chicken feathers off his sleeve. “You have one job today. One.”
“Those little bastards are smarter than they look.” He slaps my shoulder. “You look like shit.”
“Fuck off.”
“What he means,” Cameron says, “is he didn’t sleep.”
Cole’s eyebrows shoot up. “Pre-wedding jitters or zombies?”
“Neither.” I scan our surroundings. We haven’t had any major problems yet, but you never know.
“Anyway, your bride’s almost ready.” Cole comes to stand beside us. “Rosa’s making final adjustments. Sienna’s trying not to cry. Ari’s documenting everything for posterity, whatever that means now.”
“How does Dakota look?” I ask.
“Like she’s about to marry your dumb ass.” His mouth quirks. “Beautiful. Terrified. Happy.”
“She shouldn’t be terrified.”
“Neither should you, but here we are. I mean, given your history with weddings…” He produces a flask from his jacket, unscrewing the cap. “Liquid courage?”
“It’s not even noon.”
“It’s the apocalypse. Time is meaningless.” He takes a swig, offering it to Cameron and me, both of us waving him off. “Never thought I’d see this day.” He recaps the flask, tucking it away. “You, getting married. Zombie apocalypse seemed more likely.”
“Funny.”
“I’m serious. You spent years convinced you didn’t deserve this. That caring about someone meant putting them in danger.”
“I was right.”
