Page 38

“Are you nervous?” my dad asks, finding me tucked away in the back of my childhood home—his home still, now that Cash and Rae have finally finished building their house on the Marshall property and moved in.

A familiar ache settles in my chest, even though I know it’s silly.

All my brothers live here on the land with him, and I’m only a few miles away now.

I’ll keep checking in, making sure he’s not lonely.

But he’s getting older. You can see it in the deeper worry lines on his forehead, even though he’s always been one of the most easygoing people I know.

And he’s been moving slower ever since that knee injury a few years back when he jumped down from one of the tractors and landed wrong.

I shake my head, exhaling softly. “No, Dad, of course not. This isn’t real.”

It’s not a lie. Not entirely. My dad and brother’s think that this is all for the business too and it is, I think. But a small part of me wishes it wasn’t, and I could enjoy tonight without wondering what’s going on in Hayes head.

He studies me for a second like he’s trying to see through me, then nods, squeezing my shoulder.

“You kids did an amazing job with the property. Can’t believe what Cash and Colt pulled off in such a short time, but truly, the star of all this is you, baby girl.

You’ve always been the one with the vision for the Manor and you’re the reason Mrs. Mayberry sold the place.

She was right to choose you. And Hayes.”

The warmth in his voice, the pride in what I’m doing, it loosens something in my heart. He hugs me, strong and firm, and I let myself lean into it, smiling as I bury my face in his broad chest that smells like home.

“I think it’s going to showcase everything we have to offer,” I tell him. “The food for the reception looks incredible, the spirits from the distillery that Colt brought out tonight, and having Georgia and Troy here with their kids, it just makes it all feel… complete.”

He pulls back, searching my face with that quiet, knowing look only a father can give. “And how are you feeling about your new husband? You two have been living together for a few weeks now. How’s that going?”

My lips press together as I roll them between my teeth, my pulse picking up. “I like him a lot, Dad.”

Because I do. God, I do. I told myself I wouldn’t. I told him not to fall in love with me, mostly in a teasing manner all those years ago, but here I am, falling for him instead.

He’s protective. Kind. A little rough around the edges but soft in the ways that matter.

He’s let me in, in ways I never expected, and though I can still sense the wall he keeps up to protect himself because of his past, I can see it—how hard he’s trying to let it go.

How much this means to him, even if neither of us fully understands what this even is.

Maybe I’m crazy for having more than a shred of hope thinking that what we have might amount to more once this is done.

That he may want to date me when everything is over, but the way he looked at me before kissing me on the golf cart, the things he’d said last night and the promises in his voice, it tells a different story. One that points to him wanting more.

I know my dad’s hesitation. I understand it.

Hayes has a past. It’s one that’s filled with ghosts and regrets, with walls so thick even I haven’t broken through all of them yet.

And maybe this will never be more than what it is now, but deep down, I feel something shifting, something changing between us this past week of planning.

The way he’s watched me while Scarlett and I talk.

The night he came home and found me stressed out and exhausted.

The way he touched my body when he made me come.

And there’s a small part of me that’s quiet and scared that feels like maybe he’s falling for me too. And what that means for us? I have no idea. I just need to talk to him after tonight.

“I like him too,” my dad finally says, looping my arm through his as we move toward the door. “He’s solid. I can tell he has some demons, but he’s a good man underneath it all.”

We head towards the golf cart that’s parked outside of the house now.

It’s only a short drive to the ceremony, just a few miles deeper into our property, but far enough away from the main house, Colt, Troy, Cash and Lawson’s homes that it feels separate and will give my dad some privacy on weekends where there are weddings.

We ride in silence, the hum of the cart the only sound as my nerves twist tighter.

I wonder how many people showed up tonight.

We invited our close friends and family of course, but mostly, this wedding is like one gigantic advertisement.

Most of the seats should be filled with prospective brides and grooms, vendors and people here to see what we have to offer as long as I did my job right.

And as we round the last bend, my questions and fears are answered.

The place is packed.

It looks like damn near everyone who RSVP’d showed, even with the short notice, and there are even a few who didn’t respond but are standing near the back. Waiting. Watching the spectacle.

I hop off the cart, and right on cue, the, soft, gentle classical music starts to play.

Lydia’s dad, the reverend of our small town’s church, steps forward, gesturing for everyone to rise for the bride .

I lace my fingers around my father’s arm, grounding myself and preparing for what’s about to happen. And then, I start walking.

Slow. Steady. Eyes locked ahead.

On him .

Hayes stands at the end of the aisle, flanked by his brother and mine, the golden light catching in his light brown hair, his suit crisp and tailored. But it’s not the way he looks tonight, rugged, so strong, tall and handsome, that has each step of mine shaking, it’s the way he’s looking at me.

Like I’m undoing him with every move closer to him that I make. Like any walls he had built have crumbled.

There’s fear in his eyes. Fear of letting me down like his dad did, I’m sure. Of not being enough and the echoes of his past girlfriend. Of what this means. But beneath it, there’s something else that I sense. Something stronger: Determination.

Determination to try . To push past the doubts. To be enough and I wish I could tell him that he already is all of that and more to me but now’s not the time.

I smile at the crowd, at the familiar faces watching us, trying to steady myself, to keep my emotions in check. But I feel his gaze everywhere on my body like a brand searing into me, across my chest, down my spine, settling low in my belly.

When we reach the end of the aisle, Lydia’s father turns to me with a warm smile.

“Hi, Regan,” he says softly. “My, you look beautiful tonight. I’m sure your mother would be so proud.”

“Thank you,” I whisper with a smile as my dad places my hands in Hayes’s.

His grip is firm and steady like he’s grounding me as much as himself. His eyes never leave mine, dark and burning, pulling me in so completely that for a second, I forget where we are. In front of a quarter of our town’s population.

Lydia’s father clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Thank you all for being here this evening. As we know, this isn’t your typical wedding.

” A few chuckles ripple through the crowd.

“This is a bit unconventional—a remarrying of two people who have already committed to one another at the courthouse just a few short weeks ago. But this time, they stand before family, friends, and the whole town, recommitting themselves and showcasing everything their new business has to offer through an actual ceremony. Although they didn’t get a traditional marriage the first time, let’s make this one as close to one as they can get. ”

I glance at the crowd, at all the faces watching, but my attention doesn’t stay there long. It finds its way back to him .

To Hayes, who still hasn’t looked away.

My stomach flips, my pulse hammers beneath my skin as Lydia’s father continues with his prepared speech.

Hayes’ gaze is almost too much, too intense, but he isn’t hesitating.

Not anymore. I can see it in his eyes. He’s here.

Fully. Unapologetically. And I wish I could read his mind; wish I could crack open that guarded heart of his and see what’s inside.

When Lydia’s father wraps up the short ceremony he turns to us both.

“Since this isn’t a traditional wedding, there won’t be formal vows or exchanging of rings. But I’d like to offer the bride and groom a moment to say anything they’d like to each other.”

Hayes steps forward without hesitation. One hand finds my hip, the other lifts to my chin, cupping it with a gentleness that shatters me and has me losing my breath.

His fingers are warm, his touch possessive yet reverent as he strokes me gently.

He tilts my face up, his eyes searching mine—deep, unguarded, filled with something raw and aching and real.

Everything around us fades. The crowd. The venue. The reason we’re even standing here in the first place. It’s just us . Me. Him. Every moment that led us to meet each other and every moment that brought us to reconnect after so many years apart. Every unspoken word hanging between us.

His thumb strokes along my jaw as he wrestles with the words and when he finally speaks, the words shock me.

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life, Regan. You’re it for me,” he whispers. And then he’s kissing me.

A kiss that’s fire and devotion, hunger and hesitation, passion and promise all tangled together.

A kiss that takes something from me while giving me everything in return.

A kiss that fills my mind with thoughts of so we’re really doing this.

And this is real . This is more than a fake marriage now.

When he finally pulls away, his forehead rests against mine, his breath mingling with mine, his heart racing as fast as my own. And then, quietly—just for me, just for us to hear—he whispers,

“This isn’t fake to me anymore and I hope to God it isn’t fake for you either.”

Lydia’s father is close enough to hear his words, but the rest of the crowd, they don’t get that part.

That part is only for me .

My hearing returns in waves, the distant roar of the crowd as they cheer, celebrating what was supposed to be a fake wedding, a staged opportunity to show off the Marshall venue.

But it’s not fake.

It feels like something real, something significant, something life-altering in ways I don’t have the words for yet.

And before I can respond to tell him that this doesn’t feel fake to me either, Hayes is pulling me into his chest, finally tearing his gaze from mine to look out at the crowd.

He pumps his fist in the air with a victorious grin, soaking it all up, but I’m not looking at them because I can’t look away from him .

Because in this moment, standing here in front of everyone that I know and love, held against the chest of the man I wasn’t supposed to fall for—I realize I’ve fallen for him.

And I think he’s already fallen for me.