by Dee Ellis
“Fuck you, dick. Cage? Be honest?” I glanced back at the one guy who my shoot me straight. Might.
“No. I mean you look like you. Little less dickish.” I rolled my eyes, rattling off expletives.
We were set to walk down the aisle—or Lola would be walking to me, I guess—in about half an hour. I was anxious and excited. I hadn’t felt this the first time around. Hadn’t even felt this the first time I married this particular woman, less than a month ago.
Though I was aiming to get it right and have a real wedding, I wanted it to be for us. No suit for me. Jeans. Cowboy boots—I’d fucked Lola with them on our first day together again—suspenders that reminded me of my gear. A simple white button down, with my Daddy’s initials monogramed on the pocket.
“You look good. Ready to get married. Happy. Not dickish.” Finn surprised all of us by being nice and supportive. For once.
We shared a smile in the mirror and then I squared my shoulders. Shook my limbs out. I was ready. Ready to be married to Lola. Ready to start a life with her. Ready to get very part of it right. Anchor her to me for life.
Twenty minutes later, we were out in the barn, waiting. It looked amazing. Two wagon wheel chandeliers hung from the beams, candles burning in them. A few hay bales formed seating for the few guests, just our family and friends who had greeted us, and a few tables were set up beyond that.
Purple lights were glowing there, highlighting the pretty cake my Mama had put together for us. Everything was perfect. I stood beneath a flowery arc, with purple and yellow flowers woven through mossy growth, waiting for my lady. Deacon would be presiding over the ceremony. Got ordained right after I called Gwen to get this ball rolling.
No one was standing up for us. We had everyone who mattered watching us, it was good enough. I glanced out at Finn and Cage, over at Gigi and Charli. At Gwen and my Mama. This was getting it right.
I looked up as the barn door slid open. There’s my lady. My throat gets tight and my eyes prick immediately. My Daddy is walking her down the aisle. A faded burlap runner crunches beneath her feet as she takes her first steps towards me.
Lola is a fucking vision. About to be mine forever. Again.
Of course, no white dress for my Lola Bear. No, the girls found her the perfect dress. I fucking approve. It’s strapless, tucked in at her little waist, then flairs out over her hips. Hitting at her knees, it is bright and colorful, just like her. One side has a smattering of purple and green flowers and I love it. I love her.
Glossy black hair swings as she starts towards me. The faded pink and blue are changed. Now purple and green, to match. Her creamy skin glows, her pretty purple eyes sparkling with excitement. Love. Faith. I can’t wait kiss that pretty pink mouth. Then the rest of her, later.
Daddy stops a few feet from us and turns to face her. They exchange a look. He cups her shoulders and bends, dropping a kiss at her crown. The look of pride on her face when he breaks away makes my chest ache. Daddy winks at me then brings her hand to mine.
We face each other and I take her hands, my heart thudding in my chest. Fuck, she’s beautiful. So vibrant. Bright and alive. I didn’t think I’d get to have this. Feel this way. But here we are. I’m going to do everything I can to keep her. Protect her. Protect us.
“Husband.” Lola whispers, tipping her head back to gaze up at me.
“Not yet.” I wink at her though, holding her little hands.
Deacon launches into the spiel and we listen, but we never look his way. We watch each other. Knowing we’re doing it right. Knowing we got another shot and we’re taking it. Anchoring the shit out of this thing.
“Vows?” Deacon smirks down at me, arching a dark brow.
“Yes. Right. We’re giving our own.” I clear my throat and take a shaky breath.
“Hit me with it, Pumpkin.” Lola winks and I go soft as her face beams.
“I married you once already. Because I wanted to keep you. To protect you. Do dirty shit to you,” My Mama lets out a gasp, but laughs, and I shoot her a smirk, “But, really, I married you because I loved you. I knew it then, even if I didn’t want to call it that. I’m doing it again because I want the world to know I love you. That I would do anything, give anything, to do right by you. I will make you waffles or order Yolk. I will rescue you. Let you rescue me. I will read your pretty novel and love it. Because it’s you. Bright and colorful and mine. I love you, Lola Byrne.” I glanced over to see the girls rocking back and forth with smiles, seeming to approve.
Lola had two single tears slip down her cheeks. I could still see the bruises from her ordeal, though they were really gone. Still perfectly imperfect. Still broken and damaged. But not ruined. Just mine.
“Hunter, I loved you the moment I realized you saw me. Also happened to be the moment I threw myself at you at the Cooper’s Thanksgiving dinner. Sorry about that. You caught me and didn’t even know it. Because you let me go, but you didn’t really, did you? You saved me more than once, and I think I maybe saved you too. With me, Pumpkin, you always get it right. I love you, Hunter Byrne.” I actually hear the girls sigh and have to bite back my smirk. Because, so do my guys.
With that, Deacon says she’s my wife, although she already was. I bend towards her, my hands lifting. They’re shaking. Fuck, I’m a mess over this woman. I’ll fucking take it. I tug once and my mouth is on hers. I think it gets inappropriate because Deacon clears his throat.
“Ahem,” He mocks me with a smirk, “I give you, Mr. and Mrs. Hunter Byrne.” We turn towards the others, who are on their feet.
Mama is crying beside Daddy. Gwen is there, too. Crying almost as hard. The other girls, Brynn and Honor included, are a mess. I chuckle when I smile at my sister. Honor was once close with Holly, but I think she will adore Lola. How could you not?
Walking beneath the mossy arch, we go to our family. Hugs, kisses, tears, congratulations, and I Love You’s are exchanged. It’s actually kind of perfect and beautiful. Until Finn lets out a booming whistle.
“C’mon, Coopers, Byrnes, Holt, Gold. Let’s party!” The entire crew floods to the other side, to get wild and merry.
And we do. And, we are.
The End
Epilogue
Married again. Again. Not sure it counts as again this time, since it’s the same man I married the last time. Get back to you on that. Either way, I am misty eyed because we just had another wedding. This time, Cage and Charli’s. Soon, Finn and Gigi’s.
After our perfect second wedding at Hunter’s family’s place, we stayed behind for a while. I loved his family. His sister reminded me of a girl I once knew. Smart and sweet and a little innocent. I loved her. Walking into their family, into that wedding, had been the most significant moment of my life.
Before we left, I learned that Seth had been arrested. Two weeks later, so had my sister; embezzlement. My father pressed charges, then smiled and told the press he stood by her side. Not for long, though; just last week, we found out he too, was going down. Those deals Poppy had fronted? Daddy signed off on every. Single. One.
“Lucky the law got to them first.” My beautiful husband growled over our last breakfast at his parents’ place.
“Lucky for me. I need my King Kong, Pumpkin.” Really, I was glad they had done themselves no favors.
I didn’t have to worry about the shadows coming from them anymore. Didn’t have to be guilty about it, either. None of the dirt Diggs had stocked up on was necessary. Our hands were clean and would stay that way. Unless they tried to come back and darken our doorstep again.
We finished our road trip and made it back in time for final preparations on Charli’s wedding. At the bachelorette party, which Cage allowed to be us girls, no strippers, and reserved the right to steal the bride from, I broke down. Told them every single thing.
We cried together—Charli, Gigi, and Brynn, and I. Then, we danced and drank and laughed. I got drunk and apologized for beating them to the alter, as it were. For keeping my marriage a secret
out of stupid fear and selfishness. Then I went home and gave my husband the sloppiest, dirtiest blow job ever.
Think he appreciated girls’ night.
We just sat and watched two of our best friends pledge their lives to each other. It was perfect and beautiful. At the atrium of the library, of course. Where it had all started for them. I watched Gigi taking photos, forcing Hunter to pose in some with me.
Gigi and Finn’s wedding was two months away. We were still busy planning. More than just the wedding. The venue, a sweet old fire house on Market, was now our studio. Gigi shot photos—weddings, graduations, landscapes, even some hot men for racy book covers, yum—and I was piecing together my graphic novel. I also painted and sculpted for fun.
“I love this one.” Hunter said two days ago, running his fingertips just outside of a bust.
It was an anchor, bright purples and greens, with water rushing around it, even as it stood unmoved. Bright, strong, and anchored right where it belonged.
Champagne in hand, I watched all the people I loved celebrating life. Love. Getting it right. Holding on and standing still. Knowing they were worthy of something good. Something great. It was fucking beautiful.
“Hey, Darlin’. How is my wife?” Hunter’s velvety tone still shot flames right between my legs. Then everywhere else.
“Mmm, positively perfect, Pumpkin.” I leaned back into his strong chest, watching everyone making memories.
“I think so.” Warm lips pressed to my neck, his big hand flattening to my tummy. I went ooey gooey and I might have swooned. Ok, so, I totally did.
Setting the untouched champagne on the next tray that passed, I tugged him out to the gardens. As I remembered the last time we’d been here, my face heated. It was lovely tonight. Twinkling lights from the atrium bounced off the glass ceiling, and the sky was inky dark overhead. Perfect.
Leading Hunter to the very bench he’d been very naughty on before, I nodded. Hunter frowned but sat down. Instantly, he tugged at my hips, bringing me between his legs. Tipping his head back, he watched me. Waiting.
“Lola Byrne. You are absolutely gorgeous, Darlin’. Color my world.” I flushed more, cupping the back of his head.
My hands were shaking as I stepped back enough to watch him. I Wanted to store this memory with all the others he had given me. All of them were perfect, even if they weren’t. They were us.
“Hunter Byrne. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Somehow, some way…we colored outside the lines, Pumpkin.”
Confusion darkened his face. His perfect mouth opened to speak. Then his pretty green eyes dropped. To my soft stomach. Tears made his eyes jade, glittery, and beautiful.
“Baby…. Lola…you mean…” His hands came up, both spreading over my belly.
My head nodded, tears thickening my throat and making it impossible to speak. I did mean it. Somehow, some way, I got pregnant. I was told three years ago it was impossible. Too much damage. I had been ruined. Hunter found a way to prove even the doctors wrong.
I was damaged. Imperfect. But I was not ruined.
“I mean it. I always mean it when I say it to you, Pumpkin. We’re pregnant.” Hunter shoved gently at me, sliding to the floor.
“Oh my…oh my god. How? When, baby? How far along?” Hunter spoke to my tummy as he smoothed his hands over it.
“I don’t know how. My OB doesn’t know how, either. After we got home, I got a call,” Hunter knew about, and insisted on, the aftercare I’d taken after the fire, “Just before I went East, I’d done my final follow up. Doc’s results? Clean bill of health. With a side of bonus baby.” I laughed with joy, my love for the tiny nugget growing in my belly already bubbling up through me.
I’d taken the call just yesterday afternoon. Seems perhaps the steroids given during said aftercare might have played a hand in it. They can’t be sure. Who knows. I like to think it’s my husband’s King Kong dick, though.
“A baby. My baby, having a baby. Jesus H Christ. I love you, Lola Bear. God, so Goddamn much, baby. How far?” He pressed his face into my belly, my hands smoothing over his bald head.
“Two months. Doc suggests I take it easy for a few more weeks. Just to be sure.” Hunter stood, staring down at me in the glittering darkness.
“I did do it right this time. Every part of it, I got it right, Darlin’. I love you,” Bending, he scooped me up honeymoon style, balling me up against his chest, “Love you too, nugget.” Hunter bent his head and pressed kisses to the gauzy material of my bridesmaid dress.
Hunter wasn’t wrong. We had both made bad choices. Chosen the wrong people. Tried to do things the wrong way. Let shadows darken our lives for almost too long. But this time?
This time, we had gotten it right. Every. Single. Part.
Acknowledgements
A few books in and I still struggle with this part. Guess if I’m a decent person, that might never change, right?
As always, I thank my husband, L. He puts up with my late-night editing, my early morning strikes of inspiration and all the drama in between. Still hasn’t read one of my books, though.
My street team. Tre, Christine, Tamara, you run that team like a fine oiled machine and during my worst times, you keep us afloat. I thank you for leading those ladies, every single day, and for all of you gorgeous Dolls for being a part of this journey. You make me want to put words down and shout them out and I adore you for it!
My beta betties. You made Hunter happen; from the get go you ladies put a bug in my ear about Hunter and then when he stopped talking, you started reading. You told me the good, the bad and the ugly, and it helped us get this where it is now. I love you gorgeous bitches. Jenny, Dita, Nikki, Audrey, Melissa, Tre, Tamara, Christine, Shannon, you’re amazing and Hunter is as much yours as he is mine.
As always, my main boss bitches come next.
Megan; I might have quit about a dozen times by now if not for you. But I don’t want to thank you for that. I want to thank you for Hooch and The Burbs’ and everything not-author related that makes up our friendship. I love how random you are, how laid back when I’m a fucking mess. Simply put, I love you.
Stella James, you kind of scare the shit out of me, but in the best possible way. You don’t mince words, yet you’re sweet and kind and I know I can come to you if I need the real deal. Also, you’re funny as shit and I love that you love Sam Elliot and also that you created Mona.
Audrey, you get me more than a lot of people do. You understand when I don’t talk for days and then talk for hours. You listen to it all. Then you tell me your novels about your days and I love them and all your emoticons. You’ve been there from the beginning and now we get to do this crazy thing together and I cannot thank you enough for always being my cheerleader. Love you bunches!
Christine Besze, you are the sweetest, sometimes dirtiest, and possibly funniest chick ever. I am proud to be a part of your journey with BC and I adore your questions, and I love answering them. Love ya sweets.
Ace, you make me question lots of shit, and that’s good. I love your soft edge and your badass exterior and I love that you don’t care if people see both.
Of course, my Indies Ink Girls. I cannot say enough how much our little engine that could has filled me with pride. Our random chats, our actual attempts to help, the book and life discussions we have. I am so proud of how far we’ve come and I’m so excited to do bigger, better, more with you ladies. Ace, Amanda, Audrey, Jenny, Jess, Laura, Lisa, Maren, Mell, Sam, Shay, Simmy, Tarrah…you ladies are amazing and I adore your faces off and am so proud to be on a team with you.
And, lastly, Ma. I miss you all the time, but harder at moments like this. This book was hard to write, but because I was going through such amazing life changes—they were tough—but you built me tough and I think you’d be proud. I think you’d be shocked at how dirty my mind is, but still, proud. I love you, always, Mother.
About the Author
Born and raised in the Midwest, reading and writing have
always been Dee's passion. Short stories became long stories that finally, became books. While playing grownup during the day, meaning working a job, Dee wrote her first book. When not reading or writing, which leaves less time than she's proud of, Dee loves spending her time with her four fur babies, her husband and lots of movies nights.
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Other Books by Dee Ellis:
The Burn Series:
Let It Burn, Bk 1
Burn It Down, Bk 2
Crystal Cove Holiday Series:
Snow Angel, Bk 1
Stupid Cupid, Bk 2
Anthologies:
Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries
