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“Thanks, Kay.”
“Girl, I’m so excited for you. I just want to find me one of those tall, dark, and brooding men like you found,” she jokes.
“Someday,” I assure her.
“Also, it’s 4:50. This is the ten-minute warning you asked for.”
“Thanks, Kay.”
My friend slips back outside, and I take one last deep breath, checking that I have everything. She and Ellie have been all-stars on coordinating the timing today. They took it upon themselves to get everyone where they’re supposed to be on time since I didn’t bother with a wedding coordinator.
Today is about as casual as it gets, and I’m grateful to all my friends for pitching in to make it feel that way.
“Ready?” Natasha asks.
“Yeah,” I say. And I let her help me down off the stool I was using to get ready.
I was back in my old wing of the house to get ready this morning while Lance stayed over on Killian’s side so we wouldn’t bump into each other. I haven’t seen him since we came over first thing for breakfast, and I find I’m near giddy with anticipation of seeing him in just a few minutes.
I rarely get to see Lance in a suit, and I can only imagine how good he’s going to look for our wedding day, dressed in a tux and fully done up.
“Bouquet,” Natasha says, taking hers and passing me mine.
Then we’re heading down the stairs and toward the back doors that will take us to the beach. Rather than heels, I chose some strappy sandals for the occasion—because I’ll have grass to walk down for my aisle. And because my feet have started to swell in anticipation of the baby.
We stop at the French doors, and I take a moment to look out at the setup the boys put together for us today. The metal hexagonal arch set as our backdrop is finely decorated with fresh flowers and ribbon—something we decided to leave to the professionals. But the guest chairs are nicely lined up along both sides of the aisle.
I smile to see all the rowdy, rough-around-the-edges King men dressed in suits with combed hair. They could almost pass as gentlemen, and I can’t wait for the reception, when they’ll let loose once more.
The pianist finishes her final welcoming song, and I catch my first glimpse of Lance in his black tux as he and Killian find their places at the end of the aisle. It’s nearing sunset, so the long shadows make it tricky to make out Lance’s face from this distance. But already my heart swells at the thought of meeting him down the aisle.
Gently squeezing my wrist, Natasha gives me one last warm smile. Then she makes her way down the grass aisle. Killian watches her, his eyes warm in a way that tells me he loves her just as much as the day he married her—if not more. And I’m so proud of my brother for finding such a perfect match for him. I love Natasha and consider her family. It’s nice to have a sister around. And she’s good for Killian.
Then the wedding march begins, signaling that it’s my turn down the aisle.
The guests rise—no doubt directed to do so by our officiant. And I take my first step out onto the crisp green lawn. Heads turn as I walk myself down the aisle. And while my parents couldn’t be here in body, I can feel them here in spirit, supporting both me and their foster son, who they loved just as much as their own children.
My eyes find Lance’s as I reach the first row of guest chairs, and he steals my breath away. He looks absolutely striking in a black suit that accentuates his dark hair. But his blue eyes are what make my heart flutter. And I feel the baby give me a gentle nudge, acknowledging just how handsome her daddy is. Because his Mediterranean-blue gaze is following me with the warmth of the sun.
His signature scowl is absent today, replaced by the most tender expression I’ve ever seen. And it melts my heart at the same time as it makes me want to toss my bouquet and sprint down the aisle into his arms.
With monumental effort, I get there at a steady pace, and I pass Natasha my bouquet so I can take Lance’s hands.
“You look stunning,” he murmurs, the pads of his thumbs brushing across my knuckles and releasing butterflies in my stomach.
“So are you,” I say, grinning despite myself.
Lance chuckles. “Thanks.”
“Welcome, friends and family of Miss Quinn King and Mr. Lance Knight. We’re gathered here today to celebrate the union of this sweet couple…”
We picked a simple ceremony—short and sweet—and I’m so riveted by Lance’s gaze, I scarcely hear the officiant who has us repeat our lines after him. Tingles ripple up my spine when it’s time to exchange rings. And Lance’s warm fingers gently slidemy ring onto my finger symbolizing the infinite nature of our union.
“I love you,” he mouths as he does it. And my eyes sting with unshed tears at the unexpected affection.
“I love you too,” I mouth. And then I slide the simple gold band onto his hand.
“By the power vested in me by the beautiful state of New York, in the witness of friends and family, it is my great privilege to pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”