by S. E. Hall
Regardless of what I think (and I’m not even completely sure of my position), it’s too late to talk to him about it now. I can’t pull him aside at his own wedding and grill him. Besides, Evan’s been around, he’d know if things weren’t on the up and up. If Evan tells me this is what Parker wants, I’ll believe him.
“Well, don’t you look like a wet dream?” Sawyer’s voice startles me and I look up to see him looking down at me with a lecherous smirk.
“Gross, but thank you.” I smile and hug him. “And you look very handsome as well.” I straighten the collar on his light blue button down shirt, which is tucked in to pressed beige dress pants. “You clean up nice, big boy.”
“I know.” He shrugs and wiggles his eyebrows. “But you, Gidge—I didn’t figure you even owned such a pretty dress.”
“I didn’t,” I admit, twirling in my yellow strapless dress and tan platform wedges, “I borrowed it from Bennett.” The outfit is pretty casual. I mean, it’s a farm wedding in Georgia, but still more feminine than I usually wear. “It’s comfy, though, I like it.”
“Me too, a lot.”
My whole body responds to his voice, a wave of tingly warmth starting at my toes and ending at my cheeks. I turn and take in my man, looking like GQ Boss Sex on Legs.
He’s in dark slacks, a black belt with silver buckle, and a charcoal shirt and silver tie; I swallow my tongue a little as I shamelessly peruse him from bottom to top. His dark brown hair sticks up just a little in the front, his matching brown eyes bewitching me with their sparkle.
I can’t help but catapult myself at him. “You look wonderful, Mr. Kendrick. Like, too hot to be allowed out in public, really.”
“And you,” he traces my neckline with his finger, then across my collarbone which is exposed in this dress, “showing up the bride. Not very nice you, beautifully sexy girl.”
“Good God, you horny fucksticks, let’s go.” Sawyer opens the front door with a bang. “We don’t have time for this. You break the golden rule, Gidge, and we could be here all day, or get plagued by locusts for disturbing the great design. So come on.”
Oh, I have to ask.
“What golden rule?” Instinctively, Dane’s hand tenses in mine. He must know the S-bomb coming, which I’m sure is a real doozy.
He smirks, delighted that I asked. “You get it up, you gotta take it.”
Get wha— Ohhhh, I get it. I shake my head at him. “Good Lord, Sawyer!”
Good to see the old Sawyer’s trying to make a comeback, at least.
The drive to Parker’s isn’t tense like I had worried; Dane and Sawyer seem to be over their mysterious argument. We laugh and listen to music like it never happened and I’m more than a little relieved.
When we get there, I can’t believe the transformation. Whitley did an amazing job—the wedding is gorgeous. Pink and white done threw up in here and you can’t see the fans she’s got hidden somewhere, blowing hard enough you feel a breeze though nothing’s flying off the tables. Riddle me that one, Batman. But really, you’d never know you were in a barn or in blistering heat.
For the ceremony, I take a seat in the front row beside Angie and let a few silent tears fall when I glance to see who’s seated on Angie’s left. It’s an empty chair with Dale’s cowboy hat and one single white rose.
He’s there, front and center, blessing his son.
Zach is seated on the other side of Dane, looking dapper in his nicest clothes, and I’d hugged the breath out of him upon first sight. Interestingly enough, it was Zach who’d reassured me this wedding is a wonderful thing and that Parker is more than happy in his decisions. Evan popped his head into the conversation and also told me not to worry, that Parker’s “over the moon” about the direction his life has taken him.
Speaking of Evan, he stands at the front as Parker’s best man and looks handsome as ever in his cowboy boots, black pants and white dress shirt, pink rosebud pinned to his chest. He winks from under his black cowboy hat when I wave at him and pats Parker’s shoulder with a smile as the music starts.
Whitley comes down the aisle first, the maid of honor, and looks absolutely beautiful. I can’t resist but look back at Evan and smile from the deepest part of myself at what I find. His eyes are glued on her, and he mouths “I love you” to her. He truly does; I can see it from here—Evan is sincerely in love. And with Whitley’s big blue eyes right back on him, I can see that he’s loved right back.
I reach over and take Dane’s hand in mine, pretty damn in love myself.
At the end of the vows, Parker whoops, yes whoops, and throws off his cowboy hat, dipping his very pregnant bride for a very non-wedding like kiss. Everyone laughs softly and claps—classic Parker.
P.S. Just how pregnant is Hayden? The girl is huge. I’m never getting pregnant. I ache just looking at her.
The reception is, you guessed it, in another barn! It’s lovely as well, all the tables covered in pink, a DJ and dance floor laid down, punch and cake and exhilaration in the air. Dane and I make our way over to my dad’s table, where he sits with his date, Rosemary, and Evan’s parents.
“Laney!” Mrs. Allen jumps out of her chair and wraps me up in the kind of hug only she can give. “So good to see you, baby girl!” She catches Dane and pulls him in for an embrace as well. “And you must be Dane.”
I honestly couldn’t remember if I’d introduced them at the funeral or not; guess I got my answer.
“Yes, ma’am,” he says.
I’ve never heard him say ma’am before. I guess the farm just brings out the Southern manners in people.
“Dane, this is Charlotte Allen, Evan’s mom. And this,” I move to his dad and lean over, hugging his shoulders, “is his father.” I lean down and kiss Mr. Allen’s cheek. “Hey, Pops.”
Mr. Allen reaches back and pats my hand on his shoulder before standing and shaking Dane’s hand. “Nice to meet you, son. Heard a lot of great things about you from Jeff. Says you’re real good to our Laney.”
“Yes, sir, I try,” Dane answers, then shifts and extends his hand to my dad, who’s also risen. “How are you, Mr. Walker?”
“Jeff, boy, how many times I gotta say it?”
“Daddy,” I wrap my arms around his middle, noticing it’s a bit bigger, “stop teasing him. Hi, Rosemary,” I lean my head around him and smile at her. I’m ecstatic my dad is finally dating again. He’s quite a catch if I do say so myself, and Rosemary is a kind woman, a widow whose only son is about five years older than me and out of the house.
“There he is!” my dad hoots, and I don’t have to turn around to know he means Evan. My dad’s been saying the same thing to his entrance for over ten years.
“Mr. Walker,” Evan greets him.
“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna have to start wearing a name tag with you boys. My name is Jeff,” my dad insists.
I turn now, to greet Evan, and am immediately pummeled by an overzealous hug from Whitley.
“Laney! I love your dress!”
I can’t help but grin. She really is this nice, it’s not an act. What a bitch I’d been to judge her, dislike her, for…well, nothing really. And here we are now—friends. “Hey girl! You did great on this wedding. It’s really beautiful.”
“Thank you! It was so much fun. Hayden just let me do whatever I wanted.” She giggles. “She’s too tired to care.”
“I bet.” I lean in to whisper, “Is it just me or is she like two hundred weeks pregnant?”
Whitley can’t contain it and busts out laughing, tugging on Evan’s arm. “Evan, come here. Okay, Laney, tell him what you just said.”
“Um, I just asked how pregnant Hayden was,” I mutter, embarrassed. “She seems pretty big.”
“That’s what I said!” Evan offers me a knuckle punch. “Don’t worry, we’re not crazy. She’s got three of them lil’ nuggets in there.”
Three?
“God help him,” Dane mumbles, now right behind me with his hand finding the small of my back.
; “No shit, right?” Evan chuckles. “Hey, man, how are ya?” He shakes Dane’s hand.
“All right, ladies and gentlemen!”
We all turn, fearful…Sawyer has the mic.
Zach strides up and verbalizes all our thoughts. “Who the hell gave Beckett the mic? There’s grandmas and kids here.”
“Please welcome, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Parker Jones.”
Well, that was okay. I sigh in relief.
In walk Parker and Hayden, hand in hand, permanent smiles plastered across their faces. We all stand back in our little group and watch as the crowd envelopes them, waiting our turn.
“Where’s Hayden’s family?” I wonder out loud.
“Just a mom,” Evan answers, “the one in the purple dress to her right.”
“What’s Ang think about triplets?” I whisper.
“Oh, she’s thrilled! So am I!” Whitley squeals. “How much fun will that be?”
Um, not much, I think to myself.
Evan looks at her adoringly, sliding an arm around her waist. Hmm…perhaps they’re even happier than I thought? I’ve never seen that exact smile on Evan, clearly earned only by the new and glowing Country Whitley.
Parker had called me a while back to explain that he was giving Evan part of his land, to make sure I understood why he was doing it. Of course I did; my life is different now. This place will always be home, but I don’t see myself coming back and being a farmer or a farmer’s wife. Evan, however? It’s a perfect fit for him, and Whitley appears to be totally on board. I might even say…in her element? Her smile seems brighter, an extra twinkle in her eye, not so uptight and unsure anymore.
I still think Parker’s settling down a bit early myself, but I never worry about the head on Evan’s shoulders. Then again, I’d go live on the moon if that’s what it took to be near Dane. I would not, however, start spitting out moon babies or quit school and softball, and Dane would never ask me to.
“We’ve got a special treat for you all now.” Oh God, Sawyer’s talking again. “Whitley, come up here and do your thing, girl.”
We all look at Whitley, who goes up on her tiptoes and kisses Evan quickly. “See ya in a bit.”
As she walks to Sawyer and the stage, Evan sticks his fingers in his mouth and whistles his approval. And then the Larks start shuffling onto the stage as well—I don’t even know where they came from. Oh wow. This is gonna be cool, I just know it. I squeeze Dane’s hand in excited anticipation and he looks down at me and winks.
“Thank you all so much for coming, and congratulations again to Parker and Hayden. We’re the Lovely Larks,” Whitley sweeps her hand out to introduce the ladies, “and we’re going to start with the bride’s choice for their first dance. This is ‘When You Say Nothing At All.’”
“Great song,” Dane and I both mumble together.
Poor Hayden, she almost looks like she’s not moving at all, just bobbing like one of those Weeble People that had the rounded bottoms and went in their little school bus.
Anyway…she’s round. But we’ve established that.
Dane wraps his arms tight around me from behind and whispers in my ear, “I love you.”
I reach one arm back and cup his cheek. “I love you too, Dane.” I listen to the song, immersed in the Larks’ perfectly harmonic voices, and watch Parker gaze at his wife, completely enamored. “Do you think they’re crazy? Too young?”
“Do you?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. It just seems crazy to think of. I mean, they’re our age, my age.”
“I think it’s different for everyone,” he says quietly. “More about the specific person than the age.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
We all clap when the song ends, the floor now open for everyone to dance. The Larks do some really cool things with some great song choices, and I manage to steal a dance with my dad, Parker, Zach, Evan’s dad, and even Evan before Dane’s finally had enough of “sharing is caring” and stakes his claim. We dance to several slow and fast songs, some sung by The Larks, some played by the DJ, before we finally make our way to say goodbye to the bride and groom.
“Parker, we’re gonna go. Congratulations.” I tear up a little as I hug him. “I love you, brother. Be happy.”
“Love you too, Laney.” He squeezes me back. “Thanks for coming.”
“Hayden,” I hug her then rub her belly, “you take care, lil mama. Get some rest and call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Ya’ll don’t be strangers now. Parker loves seeing you, Laney.”
Dane congratulates them both as well, then we go say goodbye to my dad, Rosemary and Evan’s parents before searching the crowd for Sawyer. He’s nowhere to be found and the longer I have to search on my aching dancing feet, the more aggravated I become. Until I spot him. Then I just feel sad.
He’s sitting on top of the boat that’s upside down on the ground, probably to drain out water, staring out at the pond.
“Can you go get the car?” I ask Dane. “Let me talk to him.”
He kisses me and walks away, leaving me to figure out what to do about Sawyer.
“Hey you.” I sit down beside him, nudging his shoulder with mine.
“Hey, you guys ready to go?” He doesn’t even turn, more speaking to the pond than to me.
“Whenever you are; no rush. As long as I don’t have to walk in these anymore,” I lift my leg and wiggle my foot,” I’m good.”
“Hey, Gidge?”
“Yeah?”
“When did you know Dane was the one for you?”
“Honestly,” I chuckle, “pretty much the moment I met him. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s true.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid at all.”
“Saw, what’s up with you? You can always talk to me, you know that, right?”
“Yeah.” He sighs and looks at me at last. “You’re my favorite girl in the whole world. When I’m ready, you’ll be who I come to.”
“Okay then.” I kiss his cheek, then stand, reaching out my hand. “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 11
~Dane~
I’d won the bet and wanted so badly to give Laney the envelope. I had a whole elaborate plan in mind. The envelope would hold a note telling her to meet me somewhere, where I’d get down on one knee and ask her to marry me.
Not today—I’m not an idiot—but someday. A long engagement is more than fine with me, but still… I want the promise, the words, and the assurance that she plans to be mine forever. I had the ring made for her months ago and was just waiting for the right time, but now the wind in that sail is gone.
Judging by the way she’d talked at the wedding, I know now she’s far from ready for my gift, even if I preface it with my intentions of a long engagement. And honestly, if I have to lead in with a “don’t worry” line, then that tells me right there it’s not the right time.
So, disappointed to say the least, I stuffed two tickets to some beach resort in Florida in the envelope, my heart not in it. Sure, I’ll take a weekend alone with Laney, in a bikini, anytime, but this trip will be overshadowed with thoughts of what I’d really wanted to give her.
“Where you at, babe?” She places her hand over mine, pulling me from my thoughts back to her.
“Nowhere. Here,” I reassure her. We’re at a nice dinner, and I suppose now’s as good a time as any for her gift. I pull the envelope from the inside pocket of my jacket, hung over the back of my chair, and hand it to her.
“Ah, the bet envelope.” She rubs her hands together and takes it, smiling mischievously. She opens it, pulling out the tickets and jumping from her seat to my lap. “Babe, how is getting a weekend with you on the beach me losing?” She giggles as she kisses my face.
“It’s me winning.” I grab her cheeks with both hands and look in to her eyes. I want to tell her what I had planned, that I want her forever. That you’re never too young if you know with every fiber of your being that it’s right. That the thought of her giving
me babies, half of me and half their beautiful, stubborn, caring mother, makes me want to explode from the inside out. But instead, I kiss her long and slow, then raise a finger for the check. “Let’s get you home.”
“Mmm hmm.” She takes one last taste of me before moving back to her own chair.
I pay the bill hurriedly and pull her up and out to the car. Once inside, I dive back into her lips, unable to wait a second longer to feast on her again. “I want you,” I moan in between nips and sucks of her.
“Then hurry and get us home,” she whispers, moving to kiss up and down my neck, one hand in my hair.
I clear my throat and pull back, regrouping and finding the willpower to start the car. “Keep your hands on your side of the car, lady, or we’re never gonna make it.”
Since Sawyer still hasn’t gotten his head out of his ass and moved in, and we’re closer to her duplex than my house, I head there. I don’t care if Tate and Bennett are home or not—they can buy some earplugs for all I care. I can’t make it all the way to my house before I get inside her. If I can’t have her “yes,” I’ll take her “yesssss!”
She shifts in her seat, rubbing her thighs together, obviously just trying to kill me. “Thank you for dinner, babe,” she coos, “and the trip. Feels unfair, though, you won the bet. I should be rewarding you.”
I shift madly into fourth. Come on, Elmhurst Drive.
“Oh yeah? What’d you have in mind?” I glance over at her, licking my lips.
“I’m not sure, but you won the bet, bought the place, the trip, the beds… I feel like I’m not giving anything. What can I do to even it out?”
Say you’ll marry me someday. Wear my ring for the next five years if that’s what it takes, but wear it, proudly, definitively.
Nope, not the time, she’ll spook.
Move in with me? Well no, I just got her a place of her own.
That’s the problem, I think more “adult” than Laney. Not to say she’s immature, she’s far from it, in fact. I challenge you to show me a woman her age who’s more put together. No, I think like a man who already owns an empire, who already has middle age responsibilities and plans. But I’m working on changing that, thus, I need to think like a guy her age, in her life mode. I need to think like a college guy, just starting out as an adult, with just the edge of the other Dane.
