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Chapter Twenty-Eight

There have been many more awesome kisses like the one Brent and I shared in the gymnasium the day of our dateposal. There have also been many more than two dates. Part of me was afraid I would find a reason to stop seeing him after the first or second date. Another part of me was afraid he’d find a reason to stop seeing me. I didn’t stop worrying until after our tenth date. Luckily, we’ve seen each other almost every day, so that didn’t take too long.

I give a slight shake of my head and force my attention back to the minister. This is my sister’s wedding and there are no do-overs if I miss it because I’m daydreaming about my boyfriend.

It’s strange to stand at the front of the ceremony and know that everybody is looking at us. I stand between Gayle and Bridget to the right of the minister. Lincoln’s brother and his two other groomsmen stand to the left of Lincoln, who is sweating something fierce with nerves. His hands are folded together in front of his body as he awaits my sister’s grand entrance. He looks calm, but I can see his body quivering. Even as nervous as he is, he radiates excitement .

Movement at the end of the aisle catches my attention. Ines and Dad step into view and I catch my breath. Her gorgeous dress, fantastic bouquet, and stunning headpiece all add to the vision. The barn’s romantic lighting softens her in a way I’ve never seen her before. But what locks my gaze on her is the fact that she’s luminous with anticipation. She glows from the inside out.

As the crowd stands, I glance at Lincoln and bite my lip. He’s clearly blown away by the sight of her. His nervousness has evaporated. I dab the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes with the tissue I wrapped around my finger.

Dad says something to Ines that makes her laugh and then they walk up the aisle together. Ines stares at Lincoln the entire time. Her smile is so big it threatens to reshape her face. I can’t keep up with the tears, so I let them fall.

When Ines and Dad stop at the end of the aisle, she shifts her attention to us. She and I lock eyes first, and she blows me a kiss. She does the same with Bridget and then Gayle. It’s so special to me that she took the time to focus on us during her ceremony.

When Dad gives her away, my heart squeezes. I remember Mom’s words about how hard it is for them to let us go. I look over to her standing at the front of the audience Cisco, Justice, and Layla are next to her. Of course, Mom’s crying. But she’s smiling too. She and Dad grasp hands when he slides into the row beside her. I find Brent in the crowd and startle when I see he’s looking at me. We grin at each other. I look at Ava next to him, and she traces pretend tears down her cheek with a finger, makes a sad face, and points at me. I nod and pretend I’m miserable. We both know they are happy tears. Dylan gives me a thumbs up and Bek only has eyes for Ines. The wistful smile on my friend’s face surprises me. She’s never so much as admitted to liking a boy, so it seems a huge leap to seem so starry-eyed over marriage. But that’s Bek for you. She rarely makes sense, but is so loveable that she doesn’t need to.

The non-traditional ceremony is packed full of beautiful words and advice. The vows Ines wrote are surprisingly fun and light-hearted. She draws laughter from the crowd as well as Lincoln, who beams at her like she’s his prized pupil. Lincoln’s vows are heartfelt and sappy and cause many of us to cry. It’s touching how they wrote vows in each other’s love language.

When the ceremony ends, we follow the newly married couple down the aisle, accompanied by cheering and applause. I sneak over to my friends before I have to start posing for pictures. Brent wraps his long arms around my waist and kisses my forehead. I wind my arms around him too so that we are encircled in one another.

“You looked stunning up there,” he says. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

“Thank you!”

He leans forward and whispers into my ear. “I can’t wait until pictures are over so I can kiss you and not worry about messing you up.”

I peek through my lashes at him and whisper back, “Thank you for respecting the no smudge rule.”

“It’s so hard,” he groans.

“I know.” I waggle my eyebrows. “But we’ve almost made it through.”

Ava pipes up. “I’m so excited for the reception. I want to dance.”

I see panic flash across Dylan’s face and laugh.

“You know I can’t dance, right?” he says.

“Everybody can dance at a wedding reception,” Bek says.

Of the group of us, she’s the only one who has been to a wedding reception before, and she’s been to several. She has a lot of cousins .

I turn to Brent and scan his lean form, which looks every bit as good in a suit as I suspected he would. “Can you dance?”

“I’m decent.”

I think of how naturally graceful he is and suddenly, I’m as excited about dancing as Ava is.

Mom calls for the wedding party and families of the bride and groom to go up to the altar to start pictures.

“We’ll be over in the reception hall grazing on appetizers,” Ava says. “I’m starving and I’m gonna need fuel to dance the night away.”

I laugh when I see the panicked expression return to Dylan’s face. “See you over there.”

“Can I stay and watch?” Brent asks. “I promise not to get in the way.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” I grab his hand and we walk up the aisle toward the altar. The ring bearer, Lincoln’s three-year-old second cousin, is jumping down the stairs, while the two flower girls, who are a year or two older than him, are trying to corral him into sitting down.

When everyone is finally gathered, they place us in different configurations for photos. The photographer yells instructions to us about straightening our backs or adjusting a hand or lifting a chin. The pictures that include the children take the longest. It seems impossible to get all three children to look at the camera at the same time.

Brent sits in the front row, patiently waiting. His calm demeanor is one of the things I appreciate the most about him. It’s hard to rile him up. Because of that, when I start to stress, his even temper defuses my nerves. I take advantage of that whenever I want to yell at the photographer to just get on with it, by making eye contact with him and absorbing some of his infinite patience. Then I make a face to make him chuckle, because my absolute favorite thing about him is his smile .

The photographer yells at me when she snaps a picture at the same time I cross my eyes and stick out my tongue at Brent.

“Oh, sorry,” I cry.

Ines laughs. “Please keep that photo!” she calls out to the photographer.

There are so many photos. Full wedding party, girls with bride, guys with groom, her parents with couple, his parents with couple, individual families with couple. The list goes on and on. When I think we are finally finished, I plop into a chair next to Brent to rest my feet.

“Oh, wait!” Ines straightens and holds up a finger. “Let’s get a picture of Sam and Brent, too.”

Brent shakes his head. “Nah. We don’t have to do that. This is your wedding.”

Ines looks between us, a knowing smile on her face. “Yeah, we need to capture this.”

I grab Brent’s hand and pull him from the chair. “Come on. There’s no arguing with the bride.”

The photographer stages the photo and walks away to get into a better position.

“I hate having my picture taken,” Brent grumbles.

“That just makes it more special.” I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his nose, then plop back onto my high heels and look at the photographer, whose shutter is already clicking. “Oh, I guess we’re ready.”

Brent and I both laugh as the camera continues to click.