by Jillian Dodd
“Yeah, they do. And such a long history.”
I reach out and take her hand in mine. “Should we go get in line?”
She looks at the lines that have already formed, scrunches up her nose at me, and grins, pulling on my hand and leading me to the bar set up in the barn.
“This barn is really beautiful,” I say. “The old brick and wood. The red exterior.”
We order drinks from the bartender, he makes them and hands them to us, and then Vale gives me the lowdown.
“It is a showpiece. Original to the farm. Dad had it moved from its location near the acres of crops and the area of land where he grew up to this spot when they built the house here. It was falling apart a little, and they decided it would be a fun place to hang out, get together with friends, entertain clients. So, they restored it meticulously. The wood floors are not original though,” she says. “But they were salvaged from old buildings in the area.”
“Will the reception be here tomorrow too?” I ask.
“No, a big tent will be set up”—she pulls me out of the barn and gestures toward the large grassy area where we played football earlier—“over there. Although Mom prepared most of the food for last night and a few desserts for tonight, the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception will be fully catered. Guests will park over there.” She points at another section of grass. “And then they’ll get taken by horse-drawn carriages to the garden for the ceremony. It’s going to be hectic around here tomorrow morning with everything getting set up.”
“It sounds like it will be a beautiful wedding. Um, cheers,” I say, clinking my glass against hers.
“What are we toasting to?” she asks, giving me a naughty grin. The kind that used to get her swept off her feet and either thrown in my pool or on my bed.
“How about to us?” I say and then immediately regret it when she asks the obvious question.
“To us?”
“Yes. And for now, let’s leave it at that.”
She nods at me and drains her drink.
We stop by the bar, grab two more, take them to our seats, and then get in line for food. It’s a huge spread of barbecued meat, roasted potatoes, cheesy corn, baked beans, salad, and cornbread—among other things. I take a little of each meat—smoked sausage and chicken, beef brisket, and pork ribs. We’re told there are sauces on the table and make our way back.
When we sit down, she turns to me, tears in her eyes again. “I feel really full, Carter.”
“Full?” I say. “But you haven’t even eaten yet.”
“Not here.” She touches her stomach. “Here,” she says, placing her hand against my heart. “I didn’t want to come home because of my father, but I’m so glad I did. It makes me happy to see my sister so happy. Do you know what I mean?”
“I felt the same way when Cade and Palmer got married. And Cash and Ashlyn. That feeling of being around people I love, watching one of them start something so full of promise.”
It was during Cade’s wedding just a few months ago that I had a ring I was planning to give the girl I loved.
I take her hand in mine, touch the ring on it, and think about how perfect it looks on her.
If she only knew.
After we’ve had our fill of dinner, Vale goes to raid the dessert table while I refill our drinks. When we meet back up, she has two plates full of brownies, pie, cupcakes, and cookies.
“What is that?” I ask, pointing to a bowl of what looks like pink whipped cream.
“Oh, this is my favorite. Pink fluff.”
“Pink fluff? It doesn’t look very healthy,” I tease.
“You’ve never had it? Oh, Carter Crawford, you are missing out. It’s practically a delicacy around here.”
“It looks kind of disgusting,” I admit.
“Don’t knock it until you try it, city slicker,” Mr. Martin says, cupping my shoulder from behind me. “We usually call it pink fluff salad, so we can get away with eating dessert for dinner.”
He makes his way back to his seat, and I realize he just teased me.
Maybe he doesn’t hate me after all.
So, I put a scoop on my plate.
Speaking of the bedroom.
Vale
“I’ll be lucky if I fit into my dress tomorrow,” Brooke says, sitting back in her chair. “Too much mac and cheese. Explain to me the purpose behind having a feast the night before the wedding when we have to look good in our dresses tomorrow.”
“That’s why I’m glad we chose the flowy ones.” Raine very deliberately takes a forkful of macaroni and groans in pleasure as it crosses her lips.
“You’re evil,” Brooke hisses. She turns to Carter. “Do you have sisters?”
“I have one. Her name is Chloe. She’s a jewelry designer who travels all over the world, looking for inspiration. She’s brilliant and hilarious, and she won’t let me or my brothers get away with anything.”
“Meanwhile, we could try to keep up with Blake, but that would be a full-time job.” Brooke looks over to where our brother is currently arm-wrestling one of the groomsmen.
“Yeah, I can see how that would start to become a profession.” Carter gestures to his plate, looking my way. “This fluff stuff isn’t half bad. Still have no clue exactly what’s in it though.”
“I told you it was good.”
Our conversation is interrupted when my father clears his throat. He stands up, holding his wineglass in the air and says, “Everyone, if I could have your attention, I would like to make a toast.”
“Uh-oh,” Blake heckles.
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
Dad rolls his eyes at Blake but doesn’t let it faze him. “Lakelyn, your mother and I discussed a few of the things we’ve done in our marriage that have kept us together all these years.”
I want to roll my eyes, but I notice my mother is beaming.
“Much like the two of you, your mother and I have very different personalities. Speaking in football for AJ, we suggest you play off each other’s strengths and block for each other when one is weak.” He chuckles. “And one fun thing about being married means that if you want to get out of something, like, say, going to your mother’s for dinner”—Dad smiles and looks at Grandma, who gives him her evil eye mixed with a smile—“you can now blame it on your spouse. It’s like a get out of jail free card. Although, when you are newlyweds, you probably won’t have all that much time out of the bedroom anyway.”
My eyes go wide, as do my little sister’s. She turns a shade of bright red, but AJ just takes her hand and chuckles nervously.
“Speaking of the bedroom, never go to sleep angry,” Dad continues. “And no matter what your best intentions are, AJ, you’re probably going to always be wrong now.” My dad gives AJ a smirk and raises his eyebrows. “Even when you are right. And I highly suggest you learn that when she says she is fine, she might be, but, son, you are anything but. Say you’re sorry. Do right by each other. And share your love with others. And most importantly, we hope that you keep this place in your heart and know that wherever you go in life, we’re proud of you, and you’re always welcome at home.”
The breath whooshes out of my lungs as I wonder why my father has never spoken those words to me. And the fact that he hasn’t hurts more than I imagined.
After we raise our glasses, Grandma yells out, “And what about Carter?”
“What about him?” Dad asks her.
“Aren’t you going to welcome him to the family?” Grandma says.
I notice that she and Aunt Helen have another full glass of peach wine in front of them.
“This weekend is not about us, Grandma,” I say softly, hoping to shush her, while Carter nods in agreement.
“Hey! How about a double wedding?!” Blake heckles.
“Hey! I don’t think so!” I chirp back, causing everyone to laugh.
To my utter amazement, my father raises his glass again. “Carter, we look forward to welcoming you into our
family. I’m sorry it took Vale this long to come home, but the fact that she brought a good man with her takes the sting out just a bit. We’re happy to have you here.”
My heart practically stops beating. Did my dad just give me a compliment? I chose a good man?
I want to cry. Instead, I look at Carter, whose expression is unreadable.
“I think Dad killed him with kindness,” Brooke whispers from behind her hand.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A little princess.
Carter
I need to get away from the table for a minute.
This is all too much. The lying, the pride on the faces of Vale’s parents. The expectations from everyone else.
The last thing I expected was to like everyone so much.
Outside, I find Sophie playing with her wagon, twirling in circles, and singing a song.
She sees me coming and runs over before jumping up and down in front of me. “I’m gonna be the flower girl!”
I act deeply impressed. “I saw you walk down the aisle earlier. That’s a very important job.”
“I know. And I’m four years old. So, I’m a big girl. I can do a big job.”
“I agree.”
“Wanna watch me practice?” She’s already pulling me off to the side, where there’s a wagon sitting in the middle of a bunch of toys. Probably to keep her occupied during the post-dinner party.
“I’d love to,” I say, knowing I don’t really have a choice.
I watch as she loads two baby dolls into the wagon. Then, she takes off running at top speed. The wagon bounces along, and eventually, one of the dolls goes flying out.
“No, baby!” She’s so stern when she stops and turns around to pick up the doll. “No falling out. You’ve gotta hang on tight.”
It’s hard to keep a straight face. “Will your babies be in the wagon at the wedding?”
“Nope.” She puts the doll back and pats its dress into place. “These are my practice babies. I pull real babies.”
“Real … babies?”
“Baby Skylar and baby Sebastian.”
“Your cousins?” I can only imagine her barreling down the aisle with real babies flying out of the wagon. They are either going to need helmets or be encased in bubble wrap. Possibly both.
“Yes!” She sashays over to me. “And I wear a bea-u-ti-ful dress and a princess crown of flowers.” She sticks out one foot and wiggles it back and forth. “And sparkly pink shoes.”
“Ooh.”
“And I get my hair fixed, and I even get to wear makeup!” She claps her hands. “On my face!”
I wonder where she thinks she would’ve worn it otherwise as I take a seat on the grass. “You know, being in a wedding is a big honor.”
She nods, solemn.
“And pulling the babies is a big responsibility,” I add.
“That’s why the babies need to stay in the wagon since we have a big … re-pons-e-billy-tee.” She sounds the word out slowly, carefully.
“Have you ever been to a wedding before?”
“No,” she admits. “But I watched Mommy and Daddy’s on TV.”
I assume she means a video of their wedding. “Great. Did you notice that your mommy walked really slow down the aisle?”
“You have-ta walk slow, so everyone can see how pretty your dress is.”
“And you’re going to be wearing a beautiful dress, right? So, you need to walk slow too.”
“So they can see my dress?”
“That’s right.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
“Why don’t you try it?” I set the babies up in the wagon, including the one that now has a grass stain on its forehead. “Pretend I’m at the gazebo and you’re walking down the aisle. Stand up straight and tall, the way your mommy did, and take your time.”
She must interpret this as go wild since she whips the wagon around in a circle.
Both babies fall out this time.
“Shit!” she mutters in the most adorable way ever.
I have to cover my mouth with my hand to stifle a laugh as she tosses the dolls inside, so they’re lying on top of each other.
“Babies, stay!” she orders them.
She looks at her left hand. “I supposed to have flowers. I need practice flowers.” It’s so cute, the way she crosses her arms over her chest and puffs out her lower lip.
“Let’s pick some flowers then,” I suggest.
She takes me by the hand and leads me over to a flowerbed in front of the barn. “I want this big pink one,” she says, pointing. “And this yellow one. And these little pink ones. And two of these pretty red ones.”
The girl knows what she wants.
I carefully pick a handful, forming it into a bouquet. There’s a roll of twine hanging off a peg just to the left of the barn door and a pair of scissors hanging off another peg.
They’re probably there for just this purpose, I think as I cut off a length of twine and wind it around the mini bouquet.
“So pretty!” she whispers, taking them with an awed expression before running for the wagon to start practicing again.
Except once she repeats her stance, she shakes her head. “I need the flowers for my hair.”
“This is only practice. You don’t need—”
“I. Need. Flowers. For. My. Hair,” she demands. It’s like a tremor warning of an impending earthquake.
“Gotcha.” I hurry back to the flowers and cut a few small blooms. Working them into a crown is a little beyond my expertise, so I tuck them into her hair instead.
“Now, I’m ready,” she says. “You sit.”
I sit because I’m almost afraid not to at this point.
“Babies, you sit too,” she orders.
When they don’t since they’re fake and everything, she sighs like an exhausted caretaker and repositions them.
Finally, everything’s perfect.
She takes the wagon handle in one hand, clutching her bouquet in the other, and takes a step.
Then stops.
I hold my breath.
“There’s no music.”
“Uh, hang on.” I pull out my phone, choose a song off a playlist full of old jazz, and hit play.
Finally, she begins her walk down the fake aisle. When she gets to me, she says, “Say I look beautiful.”
“The flower girl looks so lovely,” I stage whisper with added astonishment. “What a beautiful dress. I’m so glad she’s walking slow enough that I can see it. And her shoes just sparkle.”
She nods and continues walking slowly, head held high.
When she gets to the end, she turns around and looks at the dolls. “The babies didn’t fall out! Good babies!” She leaps into the air, waving the bouquet around.
“You know why? Because you walked slow.”
She runs across the grass and leaps into my lap, flinging her arms around my neck. “I practice some more. You watch.”
“Okay.”
“Carter?” Vale says from behind me, making me jump. She then says, “Hey, Sophie, why don’t you go practice again? I need Carter to help me for a minute.”
When I get up, Sophie reminds me, “I need music.”
I set my phone in the wagon and leave the playlist running before turning to Vale.
There are tears shimmering in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, immediately pulling her into my arms.
She smiles. “You’re going to be a great dad someday.”
I can’t help but smile. “She’s a little princess, isn’t she?”
“Half-princess, half-hellion.” She laughs. “A lot like me, apparently.”
“I can see that. The girl does know what she wants.”
“Which is where she and I differ.”
“You don’t know what you want?” I ask, searching her eyes and wondering where this is going.
“I’ve never known for sure what I wanted. It’s more like I know what I don’t want. I didn’t want what my dad wa
nted for me. I didn’t want to be tied down with a husband and kids. I wasn’t ready to live up to family expectations.”
“But now?”
She sighs, looking deep into my eyes.
“Kiss!” Sophie yells. “I now pronounce you married!”
I don’t hesitate. I mean, I already know we’d better do what Sophie wants.
And it’s not like I haven’t been dying to properly kiss Vale again since the one on the porch.
I gently cup her cheeks in my hands and slowly lean in, planting my lips on hers. Her body melts into mine as fire spreads through me.
I shove my tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss and tightening our embrace.
“Okay, stop kiss!” Sophie yells.
I open my eyes to find her marching down the path toward us, pointing.
She’s probably right. Any more of this, and things might have gotten a little too hot for public consumption. And most definitely wouldn’t have stayed G-rated.
“We’d better do as she says,” I whisper after reluctantly pulling my lips away.
That doesn’t mean the moment’s over. Vale is still in my arms, and the two of us might as well be in our own world.
The truth of what she wants shines in her eyes.
She wants all the things she thought she didn’t.
And the way she looks at me gives me hope that she might even want them with me.
Test the shocks.
Vale
“Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see,” I say, throwing on a sweater against the chilly night air. “Shh.” I have to look over my shoulder a few times just to be sure no one is watching.
“What’s with all the secrecy?”
“I want to show you something. But if you keep talking, we’ll get busted.”
“Got it.” Carter shuts up and lets me lead him away from the barn, past the house, and down to a shed—where I find exactly what I was looking for. A four-wheeler.
“What are you doing?” Carter watches me, laughing, as I get behind the wheel.
“I’m getting away from prying eyes and young ears for a little while. You feel like coming with me or what?” I give him my best sexy look.
