by Shayla Black
The last complication is her parents. Harlow finally agreed to let them attend the ceremony. Maxon texted their mother with the details last night. Griff contacted their father. I’m curious about why they each chose a parent to interact with, but they must have their reasons. In both cases, her parents said they would be there but they didn’t appreciate the short notice or being unable to bring their current significant others. That was another one of Harlow’s demands. They also won’t be participating in the ceremony.
“You ready, man?” Trace barges into the bedroom at Maxon and Keeley’s utterly charming bed-and-breakfast. We have a gag order on all guests and staff for the big event, but we’ll release pictures and information afterward.
I wonder if my soon-to-be brother-in-law and his lovely wife have any idea that this will thrust their sleepy, burgeoning little business into the spotlight and that they’ll soon be busier than they imagined. Smiling to myself, I turn to my brother as I zip my fly. “Just have to put on my shoes. Hey, could you give this to Britta to give to Harlow before the ceremony?” I found a beautiful necklace with three diamonds—one for me, one for her, one for the family we’re creating. “Tell her it’s my wedding gift and I’d love for her to wear it during the ceremony.”
“Sure.” Trace takes the box from me, then reaches into his tuxedo jacket to pull out a flat rectangular package wrapped in tissue paper with a colorful red and silver bow. “This is from Harlow, for you.”
I tear into the delicate wrapping and find a picture of the two of us taken last week when we barbecued with her family at my place. The sun slants over Harlow, lighting her up as she tosses her arms around me and kisses my cheek. I’m smiling from ear to ear. Her engagement ring glints in the golden shimmer of light. We look damn happy. Even better, the frame around this image is made of gorgeous sun-bleached wood and engraved with the words TOGETHER IS A WONDERFUL PLACE TO BE.
I hold the gift tight in my fist and choke up, hoping like hell this is her way of saying she loves me. Because she hasn’t said that out loud. “Tell her I said thank you.”
Trace claps me on the shoulder. “You picked a good woman. I wish I could meet a woman half as awesome as Harlow.”
“You will,” I assure my brother. He’s a good guy, after all. “How are things looking out there?”
“Gorgeous. Keeley and Britta have this wedding shit down. And the officiant is a dead ringer for Uncle Ano, right down to the big belly and straggly beard.” Trace laughs. “Both men had a chuckle about that. The flowers are beautiful. The photographer is ready. The cake looks scrumptious. And your bride seems nervous but…man. Your jaw is gonna drop. She’s gorgeous.”
I wish like hell I could talk to Harlow and reassure her, but Keeley and Britta have been uber-protective and determined to maintain that damn tradition of the groom not seeing the bride before the wedding.
“I can’t wait. Let’s do this.”
“Cool your jets, brother. You’ve got ten minutes. But it’s just adorable to see you so eager,” he pokes fun at me, then claps me on the shoulder. “Congratulations. I know your life with Harlow will be happy.”
I try not to remember that she’s still talking divorce in twelve months. I’m going to move heaven and earth to keep her beside me and so ecstatic she’ll never want to leave.
“Thanks, man.”
As I pack the picture and frame she gave me in my duffel, Trace leaves to deliver my gift. Time is tick-tocking with the speed of frozen molasses. I double-check my pockets to ensure that I have everything I need for my plans at the reception. I don’t know her parents or what exactly they’ve done to her, but the necklace I gave her was a simple token. The real wedding gift I’m hoping to arrange is one intended to give her long-term peace of mind.
When I speak my vows, I’ll be promising to love, honor, cherish, and protect Harlow. I take that seriously.
Finally, Maxon and Griff wander into the room.
“You ready?” Griff asks. “Palms sweating?”
I’m cool and ready to bounce. “Nope. Just impatient.”
Since I’ve got a few minutes before the ceremony, I decide to share my plan. I want their approval, especially since I realize this will affect them, too.
“So…I want to give Harlow peace. She’s been through a rough couple of months.”
“What do you have in mind? Extended honeymoon?” Griff winces as if the thought of what we might do on said newlywed getaway is painful to consider.
“Not exactly, no.” I blow out a nervous breath. “I don’t know all the details, but I think you were right. Your parents might be part of her problem.”
“Told you,” Maxon returns.
“I had no doubt.” Griff shakes his head, his face tight with loathing.
Relief that they’re listening winds through me, and I warm to my subject. “Since I don’t know if she’ll truly be able to feel peace until they’re gone from her life, my plan is to make them go away.”
Maxon grins. “If Harlow doesn’t already love you madly, she will after this, I suspect. My mother will jump if you offer her money. My dad is playing a shell game with the bulk of their wealth, and I think she’s panicking that she will wind up virtually penniless when the ink dries on their decree.”
“And aww…her boy toy will go away and use his penis to bilk some other woman old enough to be his mother out of her divorce settlement.” Griff rolls his eyes. “What a shame.”
The younger Reed brother really doesn’t like his mother. No doubt, there’s one hell of a story there.
“Dad is less motivated by money,” Maxon spits. “He loves it, but he’s far more interested in pussy. And avoiding public humiliation. Hey!” His eyes light up. “I could tell you a few stories you could threaten to spill to the press. Anonymously, of course, so it doesn’t come back to you. It’s verifiable information. Throw in a hooker or two, and he’ll probably go quietly. Most of Harlow’s life he said he didn’t have use for a ‘splittail.’”
I haven’t even met this man and I seriously want to punch his face. I want to make him feel the pain Harlow has felt, which he clearly never bothered to care about.
“Lay it on me. I’m happy to use whatever you can tell me.”
Maxon’s grin is full of glee as he fills me in on Barclay’s sexual exploits with secretaries, employees…and the daughters of some of his best friends. He has to talk fast because it’s a lot, but by the time Trace sticks his head in the door with a thumbs-up, I’ve heard enough to nail this bastard to the wall. And I can’t wait.
I head out to the makeshift altar—a huge arch wreathed in a burst of colorful tropical flowers. The ocean roars at my back, and there’s a simple white runner between two rows of chairs on the front lawn, overlooking the beach. About twenty people are gathered to witness the ceremony to be presided over by a guy who really does look like my uncle Ano. My family fills one side of the seating. Harlow’s side is virtually empty, so I don’t have to guess who her parents are. They’re sitting in the front row three chairs apart, looking somewhere between uncomfortable and disdainful. Assholes. Everyone else—even my agent, Cliff, who never celebrates anything—looks excited to be witnessing our happiness unfold.
I feel at peace. I know the next year won’t be easy but I’m all about seizing opportunities. Harlow will be mine for the rest of our lives.
As soon as I’m in place with Trace at my side, the piped-in music stops and Keeley walks up the aisle, bouquet in hand, beaming. She sets her flowers aside and grabs the mic that’s been arranged up front. Her beautiful, almost haunting voice fills the air around me with a vaguely familiar tune. I know I’ve heard it on the radio, but I can’t place it. I wish like hell I could when Keeley sings of today being the first words of a lifelong love letter. When she belts out the lyrics “I choose you…” I start humming along with the Sara Bareilles tune.
Harlow’s friend Kiaria strolls up the aisle in an azure dress that clings to her arms just off the shoulder and molds to
her delicate curves. Britta proceeds down the aisle next in a similar dress in a complementing shade of blue.
Keeley finishes the song, then falls into place near the rest of the bridal party, mic still in hand. We left Maxon’s bride in charge of the music and so far she’s chosen fantastically well.
When the next song starts, I know right away it’s “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie. It’s an unusual choice, but Keeley’s delivery of the lyrics is emotional, her voice caressing every note and wrapping it in something special before she moves on to the next. I look across the lawn, back toward the house, breath held as I wait for Harlow.
It seems to take an eternity, but I finally see her come toward me in a flowing white dress that hugs her slender waist and ruffles at the shoulders before crossing in a gentle V above her cleavage. A flower at her hip where the fabric gathers gives way to waves of white chiffon waterfalling down to pool around her feet. The diamonds I gave her glitter and sparkle at her neck, making her look every bit as feminine as the white lily tucked behind her ear, bright against her raven hair. I nearly choke at how beautiful she looks. How radiant. I’ve cried very few times in my life—my father’s funeral, my first Super Bowl win…and today. Seeing Harlow come toward me, willing to give me potentially the rest of her life, hits me square in the chest.
“You should see your face,” Trace leans in and whispers. “You love that woman.”
I don’t answer, just smile. Yeah, I do and I don’t care who knows it. And as Harlow comes closer, I see her glowing, her gaze fixed on mine. The windows to her soul look wide open. Tears perch on her lash line, threatening to spill, but the happy curl of her lips makes her expression infinitely sweet. I’d love to freeze this moment in time, so ripe with hope, and stay forever.
The song ends after the first verse when Maxon and Griff deliver their sister into my hands and I curl my fingers around hers. The men join Trace, and the officiant in the vest with the loud Hawaiian shirt underneath welcomes everyone to the beginning of our lifelong union of happiness.
Harlow glances my way again, and our gazes connect. The ground staggers beneath my feet, and I turn dizzy, a little sweaty. She can read me, so she squeezes my hands and raises her shoulders as she inhales before slowly letting the air leave her, encouraging me to follow along. After a few breaths, it helps and I feel calm flow over me again. I’m going to speak my damn vows today. Nothing will stop me.
The ceremony is everything I imagined, and it seems as if I’ve barely had time to blink before we’re sliding rings on each other’s fingers and being pronounced man and wife. Harlow smiles up at me before she leans closer and her eyes slide shut. I wrap my arms around my wife—it feels awesome to call her that—and kiss her with all my heart, silently telling her that it’s the first day of the rest of our lives together.
When we break apart, I raise our clasped hands above our heads with a whoop. Our guests cheer—except for her parents. I ignore them as we race back down the aisle and head toward the massive tent set up on the other side of the wide yard.
Inside the reception site, a champagne waterfall flows, the cake is ready to cut, the deejay is already grinding out celebratory tunes. I hold my wife close before the rest of the wedding party arrives. “Hello, Mrs. Weston.”
She raises a brow at me. “How do you know I haven’t changed my mind? Maybe I want to go by Reed.”
I know she’s teasing me since we discussed this. Well, I insisted she change her name. It’s the only thing I asked for. If she feels as if she’s belonged to me from the beginning of our union, I’m hoping she’ll find it easier to stay for the rest of our lives.
When I growl at her, she laughs. “Gotcha, Mr. Weston.”
“That’s husband to you.”
With a nod, she moves in for a kiss that’s sweet and slow and full of promise. “So…husband, how long do we have to stay here and make nice before we can get out of these clothes so we can get sweaty together?”
“Still can’t get enough of me after this morning? And last night?”
“Never,” she says softly.
God, I must be smitten because all I can do is hold this woman close and kiss her breathless.
“Hey, get a room,” Maxon shouts as he, Trace, and Griff enter the tent, Keeley and Britta beside them.
I give him a good-natured laugh. “So the day you got married, you wanted to shake hands and dance and mingle without any thought of being alone with your bride whatsoever?”
He scowls. “Shut up.”
With a rosy blush, Keeley laughs. “He’s often surly, but that day… I swear he was barely civil to guests about two hours into the reception. I had to coax him into cutting the cake before he grabbed me by the hand and led me off to the bedroom.”
Everyone laughs as more guests fill in. I introduce Harlow’s siblings and their wives to my family, and they all start chatting immediately. Everyone seems to get along, find something in common, despite coming from really different places and backgrounds. I couldn’t ask for more.
Then Barclay and Linda Reed creep into the tent, glancing around, looking extremely out of place. As soon as Harlow spots them, she tenses.
“Relax. It will be all right,” I assure her.
“They’re going to make a scene. Because we planned everything without my mother, she will criticize every bit of this ceremony. She expresses her hurt by hurting others. My dad… I have no idea how he’ll retaliate, but it won’t be pretty.”
I lead her to a quiet corner and take both her hands in mine. “I want to give you another wedding gift.”
Harlow immediately touches the necklace at her throat. “You don’t have to get me anything. This is already more than I need. It’s so beautiful, by the way. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. But I want to give you something you really want. The thing is, you have to tell me if you can live with it. Because once it’s done, it will be damn hard to undo.”
She frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I can make your parents leave you alone for the rest of your life, probably your brothers, too. They’re okay with my idea. If you don’t want them in your life ever again, all you have to do is say the word.”
Surprise transforms her face. “Really? It’s so…sudden.”
“I know. So if it’s not something you want, I won’t do it. If it is, then I’ll make it happen.”
“That’s going to cost you a fortune, I already know. I can’t let you—”
“Money isn’t the issue. I don’t care how much I have to drop if having them out of your life will give you peace of mind.”
Harlow’s face fills with emotion, with gratitude. Lips trembling, brows knitting, cheeks turning red, she looks seconds away from crying. “You don’t even know what happened with them. Why would you do this for me?”
“Because they’re the kind of parents who weren’t there for a nineteen-year-old girl who needed their help. And because I love you. My job now is to make you happy, and I intend to do it so well you’ll never want to leave.”
Tears roll from her eyes and down her cheeks. “It probably sounds terrible because they’re family and we’re supposed to stick together. But that’s not the sort of parents they’ve ever been. I don’t want them anywhere near our son or daughter, and I’d be forever grateful not to have to see them again.”
I’m relieved that I read her right and she’s not offended by my offer. “I have paperwork and a checkbook. I’ll take care of it.”
The tent fills up quickly after that. We eat dinner, toast our union, cut the cake, have our first dance. Every time I see one of Harlow’s parents trying to approach her, I whisk my wife into another conversation or activity. It doesn’t escape my notice that Linda Reed has spoken to no one, as if she finds all these people beneath her, even her own daughters-in-law. Barclay has ignored everyone at the reception except my agent, Cliff. Clearly, Harlow’s father has figured out that my professional right hand can open doors an
d he’s determined to fast-talk and suck up until Cliff gives him the time of day.
Hours have passed, and it looks as if Harlow’s parents are getting seriously annoyed that they have had no part of the ceremony and have not been given a moment of the bride’s time. Other guests have finally found their own fun on the dance floor and have stopped making friendly overtures toward the standoffish couple.
That’s when I approach them alone at their table. “Mr. and Mrs. Reed, I’m Noah Weston.”
Barclay stands, all charm and smiles. “Our new son-in-law. Welcome to the family. We’re glad to have you and if you’re making our little girl happy—”
“I plan to. Let’s take a walk. It’s loud in here, and I’d like to talk to you.”
“Sure. Anything. And if you’re ever looking for business opportunities, I know some amazing venture capitalists—”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” As I step to the opening of the tent, Barclay and Linda follow me. I gesture them out to the breezy Hawaiian evening, glancing back at Harlow nestled between her two brothers, looking at me with her heart in her eyes.
With a nod, I exit out the flap and lead her parents toward the parking lot. They’re going to leave as soon as we’re done talking. I’ll insist on it.
“What can we do for you, son?” Barclay asks.
That’s something I never want him to call me again. My dad was the most selfless, loving man I’ve ever known and I can’t imagine how Maxon and Griff have learned to become good men with this self-serving shitbag as a father. “I’d like to make you an offer.”
Barclay is all smiles. “Love to hear it.”
When I glance Linda’s way, she curls her artificially enhanced lips up as much as the Botox allows and wraps her bony fingers around my arm, eyes widening as if she’s an ingénue, not a cougar. “We’re definitely all ears.”
