Austin and I shared a sudden look. We knew someone ordained. “Dad!” we said at the exact same time.
Katie’s brow crinkled. “Harry?”
“Yes,” Austin said, laughing and smiling. “He’s ordained. He married two friends like a decade ago.”
“And thisishis place of worship.” I gestured around the barn.
Austin quickly kissed Katie. “Let’s ask.”
“Okay,” she agreed. She touched Austin’s cheek. “I want to do it myself.”
And then she pushed back her chair, smoothed her dress, and approached the bar, where Dad and Da were both waiting for more champagne.
“Do you think he’ll say yes?” I asked as we stared at them. Their backs were turned, so there were zero indicators beyond body language. Katie’s hands were clasped, nervous.
“Mads, what kind of question is that?” Austin said. “Of coursehe’ll say yes.”
After a couple minutes, our parents both hugged Austin’s fiancée fiercely. I grinned as they walked together toward our table. Dad looked poised and professional, but Katie looked like she was floating on air. “Austin, would you mind joining Katie and me upstairs for a moment?” he asked. “I think it’s truly important to get a sense of the couple so I can perform their marriage ceremony accordingly.”
A shit-eating grin spread across my brother’s face. “You mean you don’t want to just wing it?”
Dad laughed. “No thanks. This is an incredible night, but now we’re going to make it an even better one, which is going to take at least two minutes of preparation.” He put an arm around Katie. “You and my soon-to-be daughter-in-law deserve to be timeless.”
***
The rehearsal dinner turned into a wedding, and after that, a reception. Tables were quickly rearranged so Mr. and Mrs. Austin Fisher-Michaels could have their first dance as husband and wife with the help of Spotify. I cheered louder than anyone else when they kissed.
Field hockey games had given my lungs plenty of practice.
Then Dad got ahold of the aux cord to put on one of his throwback playlists. Earth, Wind & Fire’s “September” came through the speakers, and the bridesmaids screamed when “Dancing Queen” followed.
I rolled my eyes, but it was nice to know my performance at the Finger Lakes had not been lost on them—or on Marco, who Katie was pushing toward me. I burst into a smile when he offered me his hand. I took it, and he immediately twirled me. “Be careful,” I told him. “I’m in a boot, remember?”
“Oh, trust me, I remember,” he said. “You’ve stepped on my foot enough times that I doubt I’ll ever forget!”
Our dancing was careful and controlled for the classics, and then we swayed together to the slow songs. The barn was so full of laughter, love, and life that I found it easy to slip out of sight when Marco and I made eye contact and both thought,Let’s run away now.
We kissed outside, immediately breathless in the December night air. “Are you sure?” Marco asked.
“About what?” I deadpanned.
He laughed. “You know what I mean.”
I did. I’d already taken his hand and was leading him toward the farmhouse. “Yes,” I told him, desperately wanting to break into a sprint. “I’m sure.”
“Alright.” Marco squeezed my hand. I could feel his pulse pounding in his palm, and he stayed quiet until we were insideand climbing the tight staircase to the attic guest room. My room was technically still the bridal suite. “It’s probably going to hurt,” he said, voice gravelly. “I’m sorry. You might not like it at first.”
I stopped on the staircase and turned to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “Are you seriously mansplaining a woman losing her virginity to me right now?”
“No!” Marco flushed. “I mean, yes—that’s what it sounds like, but I don’t mean it that way. I’m just…”
“Nervous?” I asked.
He flushed harder.
“Why? You’ve had sex before.”
“Yes,” he said. “But never with you.”
