Page 63 of One Pucking Wish

But it’s the exact opposite.

I feel nothing but complete happiness, maybe for the first time in my life.

Tucker and Marcela’s wedding was utterly beautiful. She was every bit the perfect-looking model I knew she’d be standing at the altar in her elegant form-fitting gown. He was even more handsome than he was in high school. He’s grown into his skin and matured into a man. The pair could both secure modeling gigs and more than just Target. All the chain stores would take them—they’re that beautiful.

While Tucker was everything I remembered him to be and more, not an ounce of remorse surfaced because he’s not the man who holds my heart. He’s not Gunner.

I’ve yet to speak to anyone from high school since Gunner and I snuck into the back of the church right before Marcela walked down the aisle and left immediately after the ceremony. But I’m not worried about seeing them all at the reception. The Penny that knew them all then had everything to prove. I realize now that I don’t owe them anything. Some may judge me; others may not. But I’ve learned that what others think of me is none of my business. I don’t live my life for them. I live it for me. Only my opinion matters. Truth be told, it’s the only one that should’ve ever mattered. I’m glad I see that now.

Hand in hand, we ascend the stairs to the classy reception hall. Each step is flanked by a clear pink frosted glass container, resembling a small punch bowl filled with water and a floating candle. Behind each bowl is a stunning bouquet. The amount of preparation that went into the steps leading up to the reception is astounding. Atop the steps is a magnificent floral archway. The sheer sum of money spent on the parts of the reception I’ve seen is more than the entire budget for most of the weddings I’ve attended, and we’ve yet to step inside.

Gunner’s hand squeezes mine. “You excited?”

“To hang out with every person from my graduating class and reminisce about high school. Oh, you bet. Ecstatic.”

“Nervous?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m not nervous.”

“You look absolutely stunning tonight.” He releases his grip on my hand and turns to face me. Swiping one of my long, curly locks of hair off my face, he leans down and presses his lips to mine.

I sigh, melting into the kiss.

“We could just go,” I offer once Gunner has pulled away.

“Are you kidding? With a walkway like that, the food is bound to be incredible, and I’m starving.”

“True. Plus, if we leave now, I won’t be able to show you off.” Gunner is always sexy, but Gunner in a three-piece suit is stunning.

He grins. “I think you have that the other way around. I’ll have the hottest girl in the place.”

“True.” I chuckle.

“I love you, Pen.”

Lifting my arm, I cup his jaw with my hand. His trimmed beard is soft against my hand, opposite to what one would think it’d be. He’s so handsome, it hurts. “I love you.”

He takes my hand once more and leads me inside.

“You’re getting the steak, by the way,” I say.

“Works for me.”

We’ve barely entered the hall before I’m being tackled in a hug. “Pen!” Gabby shrieks.

“Hey, Gabs.” I hug her back.

She releases me and looks at Gunner, her eyes going wide. “Oh my freaking God. It’s the Beast! You know you’re the reason I watch hockey!” She looks at me, her eyes squinting. “You’re dating the Beast! How could you not tell your best friend that you’re dating the hottest guy on the Crane hockey team?” she all but shrieks.

“Gunner, Gabby. Gabby, Gunner.” I make the introduction.

Gabby extends her hand. “I’m the best friend.”

Gunner is a perfect gentleman. “It’s nice to meet you, Gabby. I’ve heard so much about you,” he lies. The single conversation we shared about Gabby took a total of two minutes. There’s not much to tell. But now that I think about how she keeps calling me her best friend, I wonder what her life is like now. Because if I’m truly her best friend, that’s sad. We haven’t seen each other in years. I make a mental note to talk to her more.

She turns back to me. Leaning in, she lowers her voice. “But seriously… you’re dating him?”

I chuckle. “Yeah.”

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