Page 46 of Just a Plot Twist (Tate Brothers #7)

Six Months Later

Claire

I stare at my hand, my engagement ring catching the rays of light from one of the church’s stained-glass windows high above me. Crushed cranberry and vibrant green light spills across my engagement ring, causing the diamond to spray off points of glittering light in all directions.

I barely have time to marvel again at the fact that it’s my wedding day— my wedding day— because Indie crashes through the door of the makeshift bride’s room.

She’s out of breath, a force to be reckoned with, her braid crown on the top of her head starting to fall already. I’m not surprised. Indie’s dark blonde, wavy locks have a mind of their own. Still, she's perfect. Perfectly herself, which is exactly what I always want for her.

“Indie, come here,” I say pulling her close, breathing in her sweetness. “Are you ready for your flower girl duties?” But it’s like she doesn’t hear my question.

“Claire.” She takes in a breath. “Cinnamon had to pee twice in a row and Dad had to come outside with me, and then Cinnamon got spooked or something because she ran and tripped me with the leash and…look.” She pulls the hem of her white and pink dress up so I can inspect it.

Sure enough, there’s a grass stain.

“It’s okay, Ind.” I smooth her fly aways back. “No one’s going to even notice it.”

She’s ten now. Benson and I got engaged just a few months after we started dating because, as Stella keeps saying, “When you know, you know.” Benson gave me some more shadow boxes for my Longdale collectibles as an engagement gift.

He also got the ball rolling on the house renovation.

Just like I dreamed, it’s well on its way to becoming the perfect home for our family of four.

I wanted an autumn wedding, so…we sped things up and got the wedding put together in a short amount of time.

I’m almost thirty-four. Not old by any means, but still. I want a life with Benson and the kids. No sense waiting around.

And now it’s our wedding day. I’ve already done several happy dances this afternoon alone.

“It’s no big deal, but I’m glad you came to tell me.” I say to Indie. If we had more time, I would maybe consider trying to rinse out that little spot in the sink, but the ceremony is about to start. “Don’t worry, you’re beautiful. Where’s Cinnamon now?”

“With Uncle Oliver,” Indie says.

“Good.”

Oliver was tasked with being Cinnamon’s handler today, but Indie must have talked him into letting her take a turn. Never thought I’d be lucky enough to have a dog in my wedding party, but Benson and I both feel like Cinnamon’s a part of our family and we wanted her to be involved.

Sophie rushes into the little room. “T-minus ten minutes, Claire.” She’s looking down at her phone, her brows knitted together in concentration. “I just heard back from the reception hall and they’re all ready to go now, so we’re—” She stops abruptly and then her voice trembles out a: “Clai-arrre!”

I raise a finger. “Do not cry. I just finished tearing up and you can’t do that to me again.”

“It’s just—” her voice is strained. She fingers a strand of my hair, curly under my short, simple veil. “You’re a vision.” She gives me a quick hug. “Grandma and Grandpa are going to bawl too.”

“Are they here?” Grandpa was going to bring Grandma over just a few minutes before the start of the ceremony. She does better with her mental health if she’s out in crowds for shorter amounts of time. Still, she’s going strong and mostly doing okay. I’m so glad she still recognizes me.

“In the front row.” Sophie stares at me. “It seems to be a good day for Grandma.”

I blow out a breath. “That’s a relief.”

Sophie starts to tear up again. “I’m just so happy. And seriously, you look stunning.” She appraises my ivory colored, satin and tulle wedding gown, flicking off a piece of lint from my sheer-lace covered shoulder. “You totally rock the ’50s throwback gown.”

I look down and press my hands against my appliqued lace bodice. “I love that it’s tea length.”

“Benson’s also going to love the bit of leg you’re showing,” she teases. She places her hands gently on my cheeks. “I can’t believe we ended up marrying brothers.”

“I know. Never thought that would happen.” I give her a smile and then turn to peer at my reflection in the mirror again.

I did my own hair and makeup—I wanted to look and feel like myself, and I practiced enough so that I got it down.

Even though my dress is a nod to the ’50s, the rest of me is more current. The whole look just feels like…me.

It’s a small ceremony—only our closest family and friends. The reception will have hundreds of people in attendance. As city manager, I’ve gotten to know an entirely new crowd. Plus, people from all stages of my life will be there.

“Oliver’s watching Cinnamon like a hawk now, ever since she made Indie fall.” Sophie glances at Indie. “You okay?”

Indie nods. “I’m fine. I just hope Cinnamon cooperates.”

Did I mention that Cinnamon’s the ringbearer?

Dax and Indie came up with the whole idea, and Stella helped sew the actual ring pillow. She Velcroed it to a harness that Cinnamon is wearing. The adorable look is completed with a white, fluffy tutu, and white bows above her piggy tail ears.

“And Stella and Oliver have the ring situation under control?” I ask Sophie.

She nods. “Operation: Dog as the Ringbearer is ready. ”

My phone buzzes with a text message. “Will you look at that and see if it’s important enough for me to read right now?

” Really, all I care about is if it’s from Benson or not.

We haven’t seen each other yet today—I’m not about to jinx my wedding day by allowing him to see the bride—but that hasn’t stopped us from texting each other sweet nothings.

Things like the text from two hours ago:

Benson: I bought you a hamburger and am sending it in with Sophie. She says you’re not in your dress yet, so I hope you can enjoy it.

Me: Benson, my almost husband, I would probably figure out a way to still eat it even in my dress. Just cover me in a plastic sheet and I’ll eat all the burgers.

See? He’s an angel to bring a ravenous, soon-to-be bride a burger, and, don’t worry, it was onion free.

And, then another text a little later:

Benson: I can’t wait until he pronounces us man and wife. I’m gonna kiss ya good.

Me: I’ve been obsessing over that thought.

Sophie grabs my phone off the counter. “It’s from Danica.” There’s a pause. “She says congratulations on your wedding, and she sent Indie with a bag of bobby pins and a comb just in case.”

Yes, Danica and I both know how special Indie’s hair can be sometimes.

“That’s sweet of her.”

Oddly enough, Danica and I hit it off when we met a few months ago. It’s been…low drama. Strangely refreshing.

The reverend’s wife, who is doubling as our wedding planner, peeks her head in the doorway. “Is everything a go on your end, Claire?”

“I’m so ready.” I grin at her through the mirror’s reflection .

“Okay, I’ll tell the organist.” She smiles warmly. “Congratulations again, my dear.”

Just a few moments later, the organ’s soft background music changes to the wedding march.

And that’s when I step out and wait my turn. The chapel takes my breath away with its gorgeous, understated décor. Swooping garlands of glycerin-preserved leaves in a magnificent, warm rainbow of colors, asters and dahlias in coral, peach, and bronze…it’s all so rich and calming.

First, Indie leads Cinnamon down the aisle.

Cinnamon’s parading—waddling—like we have all the time in the world.

That’s one nice thing about having an older dog, she usually has no interest in scampering about and is very stately and calm.

Maybe a little too calm, as Indie has to encourage her to speed up.

Then Sophie, as my maid of honor, in a gorgeous, burnt orange gown with a brown satin sash.

And then it’s my turn, with Grandpa there to offer his arm.

Sophie was right, Grandpa’s eyes do mist up a little.

But as soon as I catch sight of Benson near the front of the church, in his deep, navy suit and navy and white striped tie, I am locked in . His smile is like the beams of light shooting from the diamond he gave me.

I love him so much I could break in two and then solder myself back together from the sheer force of it all.

I float up the aisle, giving the best man, Dax, a huge smile.

He’s gotten so tall. Once I reach Benson, Grandpa steps back to the front row to be near Grandma.

I grasp Benson’s hands and turn to look out over the audience.

There’s Grandma and Grandpa, Inez and her husband, and of course the entire Tate clan .

The minister begins the ceremony, using words that are so simple, yet so sacred that I want to memorize and seal them in my heart forever.

When it’s time for the rings, Indie bends to peel the little pillow off Cinnamon’s back. She takes in a sharp breath.

“It’s gone.” Indie’s whisper is so harsh that I’m sure half the audience can hear it.

I freeze, my mind refusing to catch up. Benson steps to her, his face in a frown.

“Oh boy.” Benson’s cheeks are stained pink. “My wedding band is gone.”

He and I exchange a look and then my eyes jump to Cinnamon’s back. The pillow’s there still, but instead of two rings, there’s only one and a long, white thread where Benson’s was. “But I saw it stitched on there just a second ago,” I say, panic filling my throat.

It was there, right before she and Indie started the procession. The two yellow gold bands, Benson’s wider, traditional one knitted next to mine—a thin band studded with diamonds all the way around.

Stella stands from her pew on the second row.

She makes her way to us, her eyes wide—shell shocked.

She bends down to Cinnamon and strokes the top of her head.

“Where’s the ring, sweetheart?” She looks up at me.

“I did notice she was scratching her head with her back leg at one point. Maybe she did it again and it went flying?”

Benson offers the reverend an apologetic smile before turning to the guests. “Hey everybody. We seem to be missing my wedding band. Apparently, we put way too much trust in a dog .” The congregation laughs politely. “Please hold for just a minute, while we—”

Gabriel stands from the third row. “Hey, let us help. We’ll find it.” At that, the crowd scrambles to their feet and starts searching high and low.

“I knew they shouldn’t have had a dog carrying their rings. It’s just ridiculous.” Grandma’s trying to whisper, but her voice carries.

One side of my mouth lifts. I’m not going to let a minor issue like this ruin our beautiful day. We’re going to find it. We will.

Fifteen minutes later, the ring is still nowhere to be found. Cinnamon’s innocently lying on the floor next to Dax and Indie, who’ve taken up camp up against the wall.

There are still a few people looking, but mostly, everyone’s settled into conversations in small groups.

“I can’t believe it. It was right there. I saw it seconds before I started walking down the aisle.” I’m sitting next to Inez, who says she’s loving a little bit of time away from her babies. They’re being tended by their grandmother.

“I’m bringing them to the reception,” she’d reassured me when I was sad to not see them here. Now, she’s holding my hand and patting it.

I’ve given up looking for that ring. I’m trying not to panic. I mean, it’s not like it’s a family heirloom or anything. It’s replaceable.

“You know, we haven’t said ‘I do’ yet.” Benson slides onto the bench next to me, his voice low. Inez takes one look at him and says she’s going back a couple of rows to sit next to her husband, who seems to be in a deep discussion with Sebastian about something to do with business.

“I’m well aware. ”

At my expression, he lifts his arm and places it over my shoulders., tugging me closer. “I’m sorry about this. Is it time to just…I don’t know…borrow someone’s ring or something?” He nibbles on my ear, causing goosebumps to tickle along my neck. “I want you to be my wife. Now.”

I turn to kiss his delectably perfect cheekbone. “Will they let us finish the ceremony without one?”

“It’s our wedding day,” he whispers. “Shouldn’t we get to just declare that we’ll get another ring later so hurry up and say kiss the bride already?”

“Yes, please,” I agree.

“This is some dress.” He slides his hand down my thigh. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

“At least ten times. But you can make it eleven if you want.”

His hand continues to my knee. “You’re so beautiful, you take my breath away.” He glances at my leg. “Let me see those shoes again.”

I lift my leg up and admire them. They’re gold, the heels somewhere in between stilettos and clunky—gorgeous yet still comfortable. He lifts my foot and settles it into his lap.

I whip my head around. “I can’t be resting my foot on the bench in a church, Bens!”

“Didn’t we just declare that we can make all the decisions today?” He goes to lift my shoe off my foot. “Remember that time you wore high heels with a sprained ankle?”

I start to giggle. “They weren’t high heels. They were maybe midi.”

“Midi?” He laughs because, apparently, he hasn’t heard that term before. And then I start to giggle more, and suddenly, it’s like I can’t stop. Which makes him shake his head and laugh, too .

He slips my shoe off my foot to massage my feet. I slide back a little on the pew and let my head drop to close my eyes, wiping the laughing tears away.

“Claire, oh my gosh.”

“What?” I lift my head and suddenly, Benson is holding his ring. In his fingers.

I whoop. I’ve never been a whooper, but now I am because—“Your ring!”

“Claire, it was stuck on the heel of your shoe. It was really wedged on there!

“And it blended in because of my gold shoes.”

The wonder of it all dances over my skin. “It was right here all along.”

We stare at each other. “Yes, it was.” His gaze travels over every part of my face. For a moment, we’re suspended in time. All I want is to slip it onto his finger right then and there.

But protocols and proprieties must be kept. The reverend must be summoned. He has to pronounce the words for all to hear.

Before he does, though, Benson and I drink the moment in. Before everyone else knows the wedding can continue—crisis averted—we wait. There’s an exchange of light and hope and deep, deep, abiding love in those dark brown eyes. We’re one—already. Tied together, yoked.

Always.

And when it’s time, he does kiss me good.

The End