And he grins and keeps right on playing guitar. “HA. Made you talk to me. Have I told you how much I hate it that you moved the engagement ring to your other hand? It’s almost like you don’t want to marry me or something. Which would be a damn shame because Isa has some great ideas for a fall wedding and Rose has started planning how we could decorate the bar.”
Now my heart is firmly lodged in my throat. I am choking on the damn thing. “You hurt me.”
“I know I did. And I’m so fucking sorry. You know I love you, right?” he asks. “Have I told you that? Because I’ve definitely been meaning to, but things got sort of busy and here we are.”
I shake my head. Shit. I am absolutely going to cry again.
“Do you want me to try and make up another chorus of the song or should I just grovel more in general?” he asks. “Whatever works best for you is good with me.”
“I love you too, you idiot.”
His answering smile is everything. It’s just that complicated and that simple. “You do?”
I nod my head jerkily.
“June, still waiting on an answer,” says Carmen from the roadside. “Yes or no to beating the crap out of him with a wet fish? You know, preventative measures are never a bad idea. Might make him think twice next time he tries to pull this sort of crap.”
My smile turns into laughter turns into joy. “Maybe not this time,” I say.
“You’re getting off light,” says Carmen, with her fish still in hand. “But there’ll be other days and other fishes.”
“I consider myself warned.” Nash’s fingers are still on the guitar, and he looks at me with such warmth and…I don’t know.He’s my person. I found him and I’m keeping him. And forever doesn’t feel like nearly a long enough time. Though I guess it’ll do for starters.
Six Month’s Later
“Do I look ridiculous?” asks Grandma.
“What? No. Why would you think that?” I haul myself out of the chair. Being five months pregnant with twins is no laughing matter. Or a moving fast matter. “You look wonderful and you’re marrying the man you love.”
She sighs.
“You do love him, right?”
We’re in the back office of the bar. Music and chatter can be heard coming from the main room, but it’s not quite time for us to make our appearance. Not until Grandma decides she’s good and ready. She’s wearing an elegant floor-length white gown with a red velvet bow around her middle. Sabrina styled her hair and had her cousin help with makeup. Grandma is the perfect Christmas bride. And I’m in a green empire-line maxi dress with comfortable shoes and my hair in a chignon.
“Of course I love him,” answers Grandma. “You know, I never wanted to do this again after losing your grandfather.”
I nod. “Risking your heart is hard.”
“Yes, it is.”
Which is when Bernadette charges through the door with a large bowl in hand. The whole idea of us having some privacy in the back office before the ceremony was a fallacy. “Where do you want the ambrosia salad?” she asks. “I added extra Cool Whip and marshmallows for those who have a sweet tooth.”
“Bernie, food goes out on the table set up in the bar,” says Isa, also appearing at the door. “I already told you this. Just admityou wanted to snoop on Audrey’s dress and then be on your way.”
“Wearing white for a second wedding isn’t right,” Bernie sniffs. “I wore coral to mine and then plum for the third. If there’s a fourth, I’m thinking lemon would be nice.”
Grandma stares contemplatively at the smaller white-haired woman. “I don’t remember inviting you to this event.”
“I’ll just go add my salad to the buffet,” says Bernie, making a swift exit.
Grandma gives me a wink. Then her serious face descends again. “Right. This was no impulsive course of action on either of our parts. I thought about it at great length and decided this was the right move for both of us.”
“You did,” I concur.
“Charlie and I discussed it.”
“Even I can confirm that,” says Isa. “See you out there.”
