She walks to the wooden chairs. Dominic’s hands twitch as he follows her, like he wants to reach for her, but he clenches them and grits his teeth. She glances over her shoulder at me one more time and gives me a soft smile, which I return without a thought.
“What was that all about? I thought you and Taryn had a little thing going on? I figured she’d come as your date,”Wesley mindlinks me, and I let out a small growl of irritation.“Is that why it looks like someone punched the tailgate of my truck?”
“Nope. It was like that when I borrowed it.”
“I’ll take the repair cost out of your next paycheck.”
“It’s complicated,”I reply, sighing.
“Well then, uncomplicate it.”
I clench my jaw.“I’m trying.”
Gentle music plays, signaling the start of the ceremony, and the four of us take our places, waiting at the front of the crowd—Wesley, then Nolan, Sebastian, and me, with Wesley’s dad in the center to perform the ceremony.
The bridesmaids enter, followed by Stella—Haven’s niece—as the flower girl. But I don’t notice them. I’m watching Taryn watch the ceremony. I soak in her little smiles and laughs and enjoy her glittering eyes as she takes in every detail.
The music shifts, switching to something I recognize from The Nutcracker, and the guests rise as Haven begins her walk down the aisle with Jack, but I keep my eyes on Taryn. She watches Haven as she makes her way to Wes, and through our bond, I feel how she desires the same for herself.
My eyes close and my mind drifts, images flashing through it of her in white, her hair off her neck, showing off my mark to the world. The sun shines on her, putting sparkles in her eyes and a shimmer on her cheeks as she beams at me, her arms draped around my neck. A small, intimate gathering surrounds us, cheering as I kiss her, sealing the deal and making her mine in every way possible.
The music fades, signaling Haven has reached Wesley, and I open my eyes to find Taryn staring right at me. Her eyes hold the same hope and desire I know must be in mine, and her emotions hit me like a freight train. They’re warm and cozy, like a blanket next to a fireplace or a cup of steaming hot chocolate on a chilly evening. They wrap around me, enveloping me in their softness and their intensity. It’s like coming home, like breaking through the surface of crashing waves in a sea storm.
It feels a lot like love.
Chapter 32
TARYN
Wemakeourwayto our seats in the row reserved for the alphas and their ranked members and guests. The ceremony seating area is beautiful, yet cozy. They’ve chosen decorations that play into the rustic, cabin-like feel of Crescent Lake’s packhouse and added in greenery and florals that highlight the natural beauty of the grounds.
Each wooden chair has its own plaid blanket folded and draped over the back of it, for any guests who need an extra layer of warmth during the event. Candles in tall glass vases sit on the ground at the end of each row, lining the aisle the bridal party will walk down, and more plaid blankets cover the ground, creating a path for them.
The males stand at the edge of the lake, dressed in black tuxes with velvet lapels and varying vest colors underneath—Wesley’s is a traditional, simple black with a black bow tie, but Nolan is in a golden yellow, Sebastian is in a deep red, and Reid is in a forest green—and they each have a small boutonniere of jasmine on their lapel.
Each male is handsome in their own right, but none of them measure up to my beta in his suit. His muscles fill it out like I pictured they would, and I drink him in again, savoring every inch of him. I sit in my seat, blanket over my lap, but my body longs to run to him, to put my hands on him and feel how much the fabric of his suit stretches across the expanse of his muscular body.
“Are you warm enough?” Dominic asks, interrupting my perusal of Reid’s body. “You can use my jacket if you need to?”
I turn towards him, and he’s leaning into me, clutching the back of my chair, almost laying all the way across it, like he wants to put his arm around me. “I’m fine,” I say, shaking my head. “I have this blanket,” I add, lifting the edge to show him.
“I know, but you always complain about how cold it is and how much you hate it. I just—”
“Dominic,” I say, cutting him off. “I am fine. There are blankets, bonfires, and gas heaters all over the place, and the reception is in an immense fortress of heated tents. And there are hundreds of guests. I am fine.”
I flick my eyes towards his hand on my chair, a subtle reminder of our agreement, of my warning to him before we left Silver Ridge.“I am here as your friend, and you will respect my boundaries and treat me as such for the entirety of the night,”I’d said, stepping away from his outstretched arm as he attempted to take my hand and do Goddess only knows what else before we’d even gotten in his car.
He slides away, his lips pursing together as he faces the ceremony, his arms crossing over his chest. The tendons in his neck jut out, but I don’t care. I ignore him and his silent tantrum and turn my focus to the ceremony.
Soft classical music plays—I’m assuming ballet music, although I couldn’t tell you what ballet it is from or who the composer is—and the bridesmaids enter, each dressed in a velvet dress in a different color and style. Maddie is first, her dark chocolate brown hair in a twisting updo, wearing a deep green wrap dress with flutter sleeves. Imogen is second, her blonde hair in soft, glamorous waves draped over one shoulder, dressed in a wine-red halter dress with a cowl neckline and a low, open back. And Maya, the maid of honor, wears the same golden yellow Nolan has under his suit, with a deep V neck and spaghetti straps, her natural inky coils pinned back above one ear with a spray of jasmine that matches the males’ boutonnieres and the flower pieces in Maddie and Imogen’s hair.
Following the three of them is an adorable toddler with wild, dark brown curls and light brown skin, dressed in the most ridiculous, poofy, ivory tulle and lace dress I think I’ve ever seen. She tosses white and soft pink rose petals—matching the roses in the bouquets the bridesmaids hold—onto the blankets that cover the aisle. She gets about halfway before her eyes land on Wesley. Her smile grows, and she shrieks out “Wessy!” running into his arms, her basket of flowers forgotten on the ground.
The guests laugh and a brunette woman—the flower girl’s mother, I’m assuming—rushes up to Wesley to collect her after grabbing the basket from the aisle.
“I’m sorry,” she says, laughing, but Wes smiles and kisses the little girl on the cheek before handing her to her mother.
As she takes her seat with the flower girl on her lap, the music shifts, the guests rise and turn towards the back of the ceremony area, and Haven enters, her arm linked with her dad’s left arm, a cane held in his right hand to help him walk.