Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Oh, my gosh,” I gasp as the guests come into view. They rise from their seats in the packed room. “What is happening here?”
Brooks smiles down at me. “Everyone’s happy for you guys.”
We move slowly down the aisle, passing Lolly’s friends, the mayor and his wife, and Lisa from Piper’s Pizza. Patsy gives us a thumbs-up.
But it’s the man at the end of the aisle—the one wearing a suit and black tie, and a smile that lights up the room—that makes me wobble.
Hartley’s eyes widen as we grow closer. His weight shifts from one foot to another, and he rearranges his hands in front of him as if he’s not sure what to do with them and is trying to keep himself from reaching for me. And for a moment, I allow myself to pretend that I’m in a vacuum and that this is real.
That happy endings are a thing.
“Oh, Mira,” Lolly says, beaming with pride.
We come to a stop in front of my fiancé. Brooks unwinds my arm from his and then takes my hand and places it into Hartley’s. Then he pulls him into a one-armed hug.
“How did I know you’d weasel your way into this somehow?” Hartley chuckles.
“What can I say?” Brooks whispers back. “I love attention.”
Our guests take their seats as Pastor Reed appears between Hartley and me.
“We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Hartley Adler and Mira St. James,” he says. “Marriage is a sacred covenant built on love, trust, patience, and grace, a promise made in front of your friends, family, and our God.”
Hartley takes my hands in his, staring into my eyes. There are no second-guesses reflected in his beautiful browns—no anxiety or regrets. He rubs the tops of my hands with his thumbs and smiles. “You’re so beautiful,” he mouths.
“Before we continue, if anyone here has just cause as to why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Pastor Reed says.
“I swear, if anyone objects after we’ve waited this long …” a voice says from the back of the room, eliciting a roar of laughter from everyone present.
The pastor chuckles. “Do you, Hartley, take Mira to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as you both shall live?”
Hartley’s eyes sparkle. “I do.”
My breathing quickens.
“Do you, Mira, take Hartley to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as you both shall live?”
I smile. “I do.”
“May I have the rings?” Pastor Reed asks. Lilly hands them to him. “These rings are outward symbols of the promises you made today.” He hands Hartley a ring. “Please place this ring on Mira’s finger and repeat after me.”
Hartley slides a gold band with a gorgeous emerald-cut diamond set east-west—my favorite—onto my finger, repeating after the pastor. I gasp, my gaze shooting from the sparkler to his face, wishing I could ask him what he’s doing. It’s beautiful and exactly what I would’ve chosen for myself—and entirely too expensive.
Pastor Reed hands me the ring I bought for Hartley. I slide it on his finger. “With this ring, I give you my heart,” I say, repeating the words Hartley said to me. Our eyes lock as he takes both of my hands into his. “You had my heart a long time ago.”
My lips purse together as I try not to cry or scream or melt into a puddle on the floor of the church.
“By the authority vested in me by the state of Tennessee, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
A roar of applause and a few whistles fill the church.
“Hartley, you may kiss your bride,” Pastor Reed says, stepping away from us.
My heart jumps into my throat as my husband cuts the distance between us until our bodies are nearly touching. He cups my cheeks in his hands and tilts my lips toward his. But instead of kissing me, he just grins.
“This is wild,” he says, chuckling so softly that I can barely hear him over the ruckus around us.
“You know what would be even wilder?”
“What’s that?”
I giggle. “If you kissed me.”
“Kiss her already,” someone yells.
He lowers his mouth to mine as I sag into him. My breath hitches as he makes contact, and fireworks burst inside me. I grab his lapels, afraid my knees will give out, as his lips move expertly over mine. It’s a sweet kiss—bringing back memories of much, much dirtier things we’ve done over the years.
I’m on absolute fire when he pulls back, and I have to restrain myself from bringing his lips back to mine. No man has ever kissed me like Hartley Adler. Then again, I haven’t kissed that many men over the years.