by Lauren Runow
“What time is it?” she asks.
I look at the clock. “Five.”
“Are you crazy? Go back to sleep.”
“I can’t. I had a dream.”
With her weight leaning on her elbows, she sits up and stifles a yawn. “Was it a nightmare?”
I shake my head. “It was a revelation.”
Her face scrunches in; she’s clearly not happy with being woken up before the sun so that I can tell her that I’ve had an epiphany in my sleep.
I take her hand and explain, “You said, ‘We don’t get to choose our family. We only get to choose who we love.’ You were wrong.”
She blinks her eyes wide. I’ve got her attention.
“You woke me up to tell me I was wrong?”
“Dead wrong. I didn’t choose to love you. This love chose me. It hit me like a ton of bricks the moment you fought me outside the subway turnstile. It seeped into my skin every second since until my entire body was consumed. It’s brilliant and scary as hell.”
Her eyes glaze over, and she reaches over to lay her hand on my cheek. I grab it and kiss her palm.
“I might not know what’s going on with my family or our business, but I do know that I don’t want to figure life out without you. Because you are my family. You, Harper Doyle, are my family. I choose you. I want a life with you. I want you by my side. I want to live this life with you. Fight with you. Make love to you. Create life with you.”
A gasp and laugh-like cry escapes her lips as a tear slips out of her eye. I run my thumb over to remove it.
“My sweet Harper, I choose you for eternity. I want to marry you.”
She curls up into my side, pulling me into her, wrapping her arm around my neck, before bringing my forehead to hers.
“You’re sleep-drunk,” she says.
“I’m love-drunk.”
“People make bad decisions when they drink.”
“Good thing I’m sober.” I kiss her mouth. “Be my wife.”
She leans back with the tilt of her head to search my face. “Seriously?”
“Dead.”
She half-laughs. Her brows furrow in an attempt to hide the emotion her glassy eyes are giving away.
“For the record, you can wake me up anytime with a proclamation like that.”
I laugh and pull her back into me. “Does that mean you’ll marry me?”
“When?”
“Today if possible. When a man realizes he wants to spend the rest of his life with someone, he doesn’t mean in a week from today.”
Her head rolls back with a laugh. When she looks back at me, it’s with a scrunched-up face. I tilt my head in question of what she could be confused about.
“Being with you? I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Yes, Tanner. Yes, I will marry you. It’s just …” She waves a hand in the air. “Never mind; it’s silly.”
I wrap my arms tighter around her waist. “What? Tell me.”
Her skin turns pink with a blush. “Monica proposed to Chandler in Friends. She proposed to him, and … well, I always thought that was romantic. I wanted to be the one to propose to you.”
I have many questions about that statement, but I settle on one big one. “You’ve thought of proposing to me?”
She bites her lip. “Yes. Ever since the night you moved your ring to your left hand. I’ve daydreamed about it. A lot.”
Goddamn if that information doesn’t make me happy.
“I rescind my proposal.”
“You can’t take back a proposal. Wait. Did you actually ask me?”
I stop and think. “No. I suppose I didn’t.”
Her smile grows wide across her face. She sits up on her knees and pulls me up with her. She’s shorter than me, even in this position, so it’s kinda cute to be looking down at her while she takes my hands in hers.
“Tanner Sexton, will you marry me?”
A laugh of happiness and a choke of tears escape me as I push her onto her back, leaning over her, smiling at the face of my future wife. Now, I know why guys do the proposing. It’s hella emotional.
“Yes, sweet Harper. Yes.” I kiss her lips a few times more. “Yes.”
She laughs out loud. “My fiancé.”
Her shoulders fall. I look at her in question of what’s wrong.
“My mom would never be able to come to a wedding. Even if she did, she wouldn’t know it was me getting married. It kind of takes the excitement out of it a little. A girl dreams of planning a wedding with her mother.”
“I understand. Not having mine there will be heartbreaking. Then, there’s Dad and Missy.” I groan. “And my brothers who are going to tell me I’m too young to make this decision. They’re gonna love you, but they’re bachelors. They won’t understand.”
She nods in understanding. “I agree with you about eloping today. This love is about us. I don’t need everyone around me to announce my love. I just want you.”
My heart swells for this woman. “So, today? You’ll marry me today?”
She laughs, pulling me into her and softly kissing me. “Everything about you and this relationship has been unconventional, so yes. I say, hell yes. Let’s get married today!”
22
HARPER
It turns out, you can’t get married in a day. When we Googled city hall, we learned you had to wait twenty-four hours after obtaining your marriage license.
I leave work early to the sight of Tanner standing on the curb in a navy suit and a town car waiting on the curb. When I ask him why the car, he says it’s because we have a lot to do in a little time.
Our first stop is City Hall where we do the paperwork and then start the twenty-four-hour countdown on our phones.
Next, we drive up Fifth Avenue to Tiffany. When we walk inside, Tanner opens his arms and says, “Pick one.”
It’s a girl’s dream, but, like our love, I want something less flashy than a Tiffany sparkler.
“I’m serious. Any ring you want is yours,” he says, assuring me.
I look around the room at the gorgeous cases of jewelry glistening under the pin spot lighting. My mom has a diamond chip that was meant to be a promise because my father couldn’t afford more at the time. She never upgraded it. I love that.
“Is this the kind of ring your mom had?” I ask him.
“My parents were struggling college students, barely scraping by. Dad proposed with an antique ring they’d found in a hippie shop on Haight Street in San Francisco.”
I lean up and passionately kiss him in the swanky department store. When I pull away, he’s a little taken aback by the kiss.
“Let’s take a walk.”
We stroll down to 47th Street where the iconic Diamond District is housed. I came here with a college friend to have her engagement ring resized.
There’s a booth in one of the stores that caught my eye years ago. Antique rings line the case, each with a special story. We choose a 1.07 carat blue sapphire round cut vintage engagement ring in rose gold that was part of an estate from a couple who was married for forty-seven years. It fits perfectly and has a matching wedding band.
When we share our own story to the Israeli owner, he goes in the back and comes out with a gorgeous long-sleeved lace jacket that was part of a wedding dress from the 1920s. Memories of our first night at the speakeasy flash through my mind, and I jump at the opportunity to wear it as part of my wedding dress.
Our next stop is uptown to Bergdorf Goodman where we part ways—him going to the men’s department and me to evening wear. I’m surprised to see April when I get off the elevator. At first, I think it’s a coincidence until I see her tears and am pulled into a very un-April-like hug.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married!” she cries with a happy shake.
“You’re not mad? Or going to tell me it’s an insane idea?”
She releases me and wipes her eyes. “It’s batshit crazy. Like, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. Who elopes? Who are you, Car
rie and Big?”
“I was thinking more Ross and Rachel.”
We join arms and start walking toward the dresses.
“They were in Vegas. This is much cooler. As your maturer friend, who obviously has a more secure head on her shoulders, I have to warn you about the ramifications of marrying in a hurry. You name it, and I’ve seen it at our law firm.”
I stop and turn to her. Our day has been such a whirlwind that I didn’t think about something that is probably vital in our nuptials, especially for a girl who marries a man worth as much as Tanner Sexton. “Actually, can you please do me a huge favor?”
“Anything.”
“I need a prenuptial agreement stating that I get nothing should Tanner and I divorce.”
If her face were a painting, it would be a Picasso. Her mouth and nose are on opposite ends. “That is the last thing I ever thought you would say right now. A prenup could take weeks to go back and forth. Is this because you don’t want him claiming your real estate like Aaron did? Girl, if you’re seriously questioning if you need a prenup to protect yourself, then we need to have a completely different conversation right now.”
I smile. “No. Not to protect me. All it has to say is that I’m waiving my rights to anything Tanner has prior to our marriage.”
“Anything Tanner has? Am I missing something?”
I look around this beautiful store where I’ve come to pick out a simple slip dress to wear under the lace jacket we purchased, only to find my best friend already here, and a goofy grin grows on my face as I suspiciously eye her. “How did you know I was here?”
“Tanner called. He thought you needed your best friend for the most important moment of your life.”
That’s all I need to hear. “That’s why. Type it up as formal as you can make it. Then, you can notarize it, right?”
“You know, most best friends are the maid of honor, not last-minute prenup organizers.” She pouts as I pull her arm toward the dresses.
“You’re lucky enough to be both.”
After we find the perfect slip dress, we meet Tanner downstairs, and I load our freshly purchased wedding looks into the trunk of the car. As a pre-wedding treat, we decide on dinner where Chris, Ryan, and Willa meet us along with April’s new boyfriend, Gil, and then the seven of us head to the speakeasy for drinks and dancing.
At the end of the night, we pull up to The Plaza where Tanner booked us a room for the night. I’m playing with the ring on my finger and twisting it in circles. My cheek is raw from how much I’m gnawing at it. As excited as I am to begin my life with Tanner, I feel like I’ve made a mistake in one aspect.
“Tanner—” I start.
He hushes me with a kiss.
“I know,” he says calmly. “And agree.”
I have no clue what he’s talking about because there’s no way he has any idea what is going on in my head right now.
“Did you think I’d marry you without asking your father for his permission?”
“How did you know?” I turn in shock.
“He’d already told me I had his permission, so he wasn’t surprised when I called him today to ask him officially.”
“Wait, he what?”
Tanner gives me a sexy smirk. “When I first met him, he told me I could sweep you away to San Francisco if I needed to, and he’d be okay with it. Even said he would help pay for us to come back and visit. I can’t help it; people love me.”
“Oh, jeez. I’m glad to see you guys were planning my future before I knew anything about it.”
“Only because we love you.”
I’m a ball of excitement and nerves.
The car pulls up to City Hall the minute our license goes into effect. He opens the door, stepping out and turning back to me, holding out his hand. I smile up at the man I’m so in love with, the man I am about to make my husband, and realize that today is the first day of the rest of my life.
We walk up the stairs, hand in hand, and enter the courtroom, my heart full of love. Especially when I see my dad in a dark suit and a debonair smile.
“You ready, sweet pea?”
Tears well in my eyes, and I blink them away as Dad gives me a hug.
With him as our witness, Tanner and I say our I dos without a dry eye between the three of us.
Afterward, we enjoy a lunch at the Loeb Boathouse before Dad has to leave to tend to Mom.
To end the day, Tanner and I take a horse-drawn carriage ride through Central Park. It’s the absolute perfect day, and my cheeks hurt from the huge smile I’ve worn every second.
“Mrs. Sexton. I have a wedding gift for you.”
Since his place has no walls, only a curtain hanging in the corner of his apartment to form his bedroom, it’s so tempting to sneak a peek at what he’s up to, but I stop myself, knowing the surprise of it all will be that much better.
Finally, he moves the curtain to the side, saying, “I’m ready. Please strip down.”
Excitement runs up my spine as I hop off the bed in a hurry.
I strip down to nothing, holding out my hand to him, ready for him to lead me in this life, this moment as his wife.
He walks me to his painting area, and I stand completely naked with nothing but cans of paint and a blank canvas in front of us. It’s dark outside, and as the rain pounds against the windows, I’ve never felt so secure in my surroundings.
He stands behind me, naked himself, intertwining my fingers from behind and moving me to pick up a paintbrush with him.
As both our hands grip the handle, he dips it in a rich blue and begins to stroke the paint against the canvas. His right hand flows with ease, and mine follows while his left hand wraps around my waist, holding me to him to make us one.
The song “You and I” by Lady Gaga plays loudly in the background as Tanner works his magic on the canvas and my heart.
With every stroke, my soul soars with so much emotion that I could burst.
He switches colors, and I move in complete awe of the man wrapped around me. He moves me like I’m his marionette, and I allow him to without a hesitation in the world.
Paint splatters on my chest, and he runs his fingers over my breasts, creating a masterpiece on my body in a different way. He doesn’t just wipe it away; he moves it, smearing it around in circles and caressing me at the same time.
It’s so sensual.
So erotic.
And so emotional.
The first time we painted together, it was out of rage and frustration. Tonight, there is nothing but love in this room.
I feel his heartbeat against my chest as I live the passion he feels as he paints. But it’s not just paint. He’s putting his entire soul on the line to create something from his mind for the world to see. It’s absolutely magical.
Standing here, naked, I’ve never felt so alive, so bold.
Without thinking, I reach behind, wrapping my hand around his semi-hard cock, and I stroke him like he strokes the canvas. As I slow my pace, he slows his movements, giving me more motivation to carry on with my pursuit.
“We’re not finished yet,” he whispers into my ear.
“I don’t care.” I continue to stroke him.
Dropping his paintbrush to the ground, he flips me around to face him, pushing my back up against the wet paint and lifting me to wrap my legs around his waist.
After a few kisses, I feel him position himself against me, and he pushes himself inside, making love to me against the painting we just created as man and wife.
23
HARPER
“Good morning, my beautiful wife,” Tanner whispers into my ear.
A huge grin spreads across my face. His wife. I am his wife. He married me, and it was the best day of my life.
“Morning, husband of mine.”
He kisses my lips while reaching to run his hand down my naked body. “Hot damn, my wife has a banging body,” he teases, making me laugh.
He slaps my ass and rolls off the bed, grabbing his jea
ns off the floor. “I’m going to go to the bank and then pick us up some coffee and bagels. I’ll be right back. I didn’t want you to think I’d ghosted you after our wedding night.” He winks.
“Ha-ha-ha.” I playfully hit him in the back as he puts his pants on.
He stands to button them and then leans down, kissing me again before heading toward the door.
I grab a blanket to wrap around me when I remember. “Oh, where did you put the copy of our marriage license? I’m going to make a copy for April to attach to the prenup.”
Tanner’s hair whips in his face as he looks at me, confused. “What prenup?”
“She drafted a document yesterday for me to sign, stating that I relinquish any rights to your company and inheritance.”
“That’s beyond fucked up.”
I am taken aback by his reaction. “I think you meant to say, Thank you, Harper, for proving you only married me for love and not money.”
“Thank you, Harper, for already thinking this marriage is doomed to fail.”
Rising from the bed, I pad over to where he’s standing with his hands fisted at the sides and his chest puffed out. I love angry Tanner. I lift up onto my toes and give him a soft kiss.
“We’ll agree to disagree. From what you told me about your family and from what I saw of Missy, I know what will be perceived and I don’t want there to be any question.”
“You care too much about what others think,” he speaks into the kiss.
“I do. Get over it. Your wife has quirks. And she loved you when she assumed you were a starving artist.” With a final kiss, I smile. “I have to swing by her apartment later to bring it to her and get it notarized.”
With a reluctant sigh, he nods over to his desk against the wall. “I put it in the top drawer. Our official marriage license doesn’t come for a few weeks.” He kisses my forehead. “Just so you know, I think this idea is bullshit, but I love you anyway.”
He pulls a sweater over his head and ties up his hair. I admire his backside as he walks out the door. After a few moments of checking out the sapphire ring on my hand, I go to the desk, tightly holding the blanket around me as a chill runs up my legs from the cold floor.
