Page 67 of The Arrangement

“What do we do now?” Tate asks.

“I go on inside and wait by the floral arch,” I say. “Chloe stays here until she hears the wedding march. You guys can go on in with me, I guess.”

Ripley starts toward the door into the chapel but stalls. He looks over his shoulder at Chloe.

She grips my hand, tears filling her eyes again. Her gaze darts around the room until it lands on Ripley.

“Hey,” he says, flicking his attention to me for approval. I nod. “I know I’m not your father or anything, but would you like me to walk you down the aisle? If not, that’s okay. I just thought you might need someone to whisper in your ear on the way to Jason and remind you of all his good qualities so you don’t realize what you’re doing and bail.”

She laughs, the sound strangled by a wash of emotions. She doesn’t speak, only nods.

My heart grows, and I give my little brother a wink.

“Give me your phone,” Tate says, holding out a hand. “I’ll be the best man and the wedding videographer.”

Ripley forks his phone over to Tate. I take one last look at my soon-to-be wife.

She’s absolutely beautiful.

Her hair is down, one side pulled over to the other shoulder and fastened invisibly. Her dress hits her mid-calf and has billowy sleeves that make her look like an angel. The fabric tightens at her waist.

I could stare at her forever.

“See you soon,” I say.

She grins. “See you soon.”

I give her a smile before following Tate down a white pathway to an arch of white flowers.

“At least there aren’t any chickens,” Tate mumbles, reminding me of Bianca’s backyard wedding to Foxx. One of Foxx’s brothers has free-range chickens, and they definitely made it an interesting day. It wasn’t at all how I ever imagined Bianca getting married.

I glance at the man walking our way with slicked-back hair and a gold jumpsuit.

But I didn’t imagine getting married like this either.

“Okay,” Tate says, holding two phones aimed at the doorway. “I’m ready to rock and roll.”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Gold jumpsuit man stands behind the arch. “Are we ready, boys?”

My heart pounds. I slip my hand in my pocket and find the small box I had delivered with the flowers. “Let’s do this.”

Music plays overhead, and on cue, the doors open.

Chloe’s arm is through Ripley’s elbow. Her flowers are in her hand. Her eyes are on me.

I struggle to breathe.

Everything and everyone blurs. She’s my only focus.

With each step she takes, my blood pumps harder.

They stop in front of me, and Ripley presses a quick kiss to her cheek and then stands beside Tate.

This is really happening.

I take her hand and, as instructed, she faces me. Gold Jumpsuit comes between us and signals for the music to end. It drifts away.

“Are you good?” I ask.