Page 46 of Sweet Nothings

We stand side by side and take in the beauty of this place. Frederick left five minutes ago, telling me he was proud I’d taken the plunge and strengthened our bond with the Harding family. I think he was less concerned about the logistics of my marriage and more concerned with the benefits that came from it.

I spent a few minutes talking to my new brothers-in-law. They didn’t say much outside of asking the typical basic questions of getting to know one another. Most of our conversations centered around our school rivalry. Boston College versus Harvard. Since Jude’s wife Victoria was a BostonCollege graduate as well, Roe and I were outnumbered. Micah stuck around a while longer than Jude, but that’s only because Jude’s daughter spit up a large puddle of formula on Victoria’s sequined dress.

The sun has set behind the horizon in the distance, and goosebumps spread across my arms from the ocean breeze.

“You didn’t have to stay this long if you weren’t feeling up for it,” I gently tell Roe.

Her small shoulders relax as she tilts her head to the side. “If I wasn’t up for it, I wouldn’t still be here. But it’s okay. Steven is on his way to pick me up from the hotel.”

“I’m sorry he wasn’t feeling well.” I frown.

“It’s okay.” She shrugs, lifting her hand to tuck my loose strands of hair behind my ear. “You make a beautiful bride, and Lennon is fucking lucky to be married to you.”

“Maybe.” I laugh, letting those unsettled thoughts about earlier back into my mind.

“I just want to remind you of that, considering Mom and Dad couldn’t be here. And with Kellan…” Her soft voice trails off.

“Please, don’t,” I beg. “For completely different reasons, I don’t think I can handle thinking about the three of them. This day has gone better than I expected considering the details of why I married Lennon, and I don’t want to ruin it with depressing thoughts. There’s no sense in being upset over a situation I can’t change, or being angry over someone who’s already being punished for the choices they made. Makes it easier to not be angry knowing justice has been served.”

“You’re right,” Roe concedes, giving me a meek, apologetic grin.

“I like to believe Mom and Dad would be happy today.” I smile, but it doesn’t last long. “And as far as Kellan is concerned, well, he can go fuck himself, I guess.”

“Laurel Harding!” Roe says, shocked by lack of restraint. Whereas she’s slightly more sympathetic to our brother’s situation, I am not.

But hearing her yell my new full name flips my stomach upside down. Like the ring on my finger, it’s a foreign sound, but one I think I’ll easily get used to.

“I apologize, ladies.” Lennon comes up behind me, once again placing his hand on the small of my back, pulling Roe’s attention away from me. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but the helicopter is ready.”

“Helicopter?” Roe asks, her mouth turning down in surprise. “Fancy.”

“Taking my helicopter is the quickest way back to the city from here.” Lennon smiles. “Thank you for coming, Monroe. It was great to see you again.”

“You, too.” She smiles in return. “Take care of my sister, okay?”

“I will.” He nods.

“Are you sure we can’t give you a ride back to the hotel?” I ask.

She giggles. “I’m fine, Laurel.”

Misty eyed, I wrap my arms around Roe and pull her into a deep hug. I want to squeeze her, but I’m conscious of the way she’s been feeling lately, as well as the port implanted into her chest.

“I love you,” I whisper in her ear. “I can’t tell you what it means to me that you were here.”

“Are you kidding?” she asks, laughing. “And miss my sister marry the infamous Lennon Harding?”

I laugh, resting my head on her shoulder. “I love you,” I tell her again. I feel like I need to say it more often nowadays.

“I love you, too.”

I leave Roe where she’s standing and follow Lennon to the back end of the courtyard. We pass the greenhouse and walk around a large stone wall, revealing a helicopter waiting for us.

Lennon holds my hand, steadying me as I step up into the helicopter. I sit in the seat on the opposite side from the open door, pulling my veil in behind me. He bends, gathering the train of my dress in his arms. Specks and streaks of dirt cover the bottom hem, reminding me of being in the greenhouse with Lennon.

Ignoring the swelling in my chest, I lean forward and tug on as much of the train as I can, swishing it off to the side, out of Lennon’s way. He slides in beside me, dropping the rest of my dress onto the floor, then he shuts the door and twists in his seat. He reaches above me, grabs a pair of headphones, and gently places them on my head, ensuring each side is covering my ears. I’m conscious of his touch, the brush of his fingers on my cheeks, the heat of his skin touching mine. His piercing blue eyes look anywhere but at my own, even when he turns in his own seat, placing his headphones over his ears.

The helicopter starts to lift off the ground, when he leans over, buckling my seat belt. I inhale a sharp breath and hold it. His scent surrounds me, and fuck if I don’t want him to take me right now. We fucked in the back seat of his car years ago. How different would it be if we repeated history in his helicopter?