Page 87 of To Have and to Scold

“Beck, wait.” I have to shout. “I told Shoshana no. I want to stay here.”

It takes him a second to process. “What? Why would you do that? You’ve got to get back to Amore. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

I shake my head. “Not anymore. I want you. I want Willow Cove. I can feel free to be me now. Here.” My words start tumbling out in a jumbled mess. “And since I can step into the idea of being myself here, I can try it anywhere, too. Except I want to be here. I’ve never felt so free or so happy. I could dowithout any more run-ins with Prince Harry, but if it happens, so what? I’m—”

Beck crushes me in a hug, lifting me off the ground in a hearty laugh. I circle his neck with my arms and kiss him. It’s urgent and sweet. It’s real.

It’s right.

He wraps his arms under me and hefts me closer to him. He even does a little spin, so I hook my legs around him to keep from falling.

“Dallas,” he says, softly kissing my temple, my cheek, my earlobe. “I don’t care what you want to do, I just want to be part of your plans. I love you.”

My bottom lip trembles. “And I love you. Not a single plan of mine makes sense if you’re not a part of them.”

He holds me, kissing me thoroughly for a long time, putting those construction-built arms to very, very good use.

Epilogue

Beck

One Year Later

“I feel strange being at a wedding without my headset on,” Dallas whispers to me.

“Kaia and Mary have got this,” I tell her, my gaze taking in my beautiful bride in her sleeveless white dress with a sweetheart neckline and hi-lo hem.

Yeah. I know how to describe my bride’s dress using correct descriptors. I’ve had a front-row seat to over forty weddings in the past year, and I’ve learned a ton about the industry.

Dallas is mybride. In a few moments, she’ll be mywife.

We’re standing at the back door of Willow Wood, peering through the glass, waiting for the signal from Mary and Kaia that it’s time to walk down the aisle. In typical, independent Dallas fashion, she decided she wanted to do things her way, so there’s very little that’s traditional about our wedding.

For starters, we’ll be walking down the aisle together, just the two of us. Our parents were happy with the plan to already be sitting in the front row when our procession starts. And Dallas’s dad said he’d never really liked the idea of “giving away” his daughter, since she’s not a piece of property to be passed over to me.

I couldn’t agree more. I’m proud of Dallas for creating the wedding she wants. And honestly, I don’t care as much about the details of today as I do about the fact that we’re here, ready to commit our lives to each other.

Dallas sucks in a breath. “I see some friends from Duluth.” Her gaze scans the rows of white folding chairs, nearly full of guests. All of our families are here, as well as my friends Perry, Coop, King, and Duke and their significant others. Rosie, Leo, and the rest of their family were some of the first to arrive. “And there are Portia and Elliott,” she adds.

My brother and his wife of nearly a year flew in from New Jersey a few days ago to help us get everything set up. They’re as ridiculously happy as ever. I’m happy for them. Plus, they’re saying they hope to move to Willow Cove when Portia graduates. With any luck, I’ll get my best manager back.

The music coming through the speakers starts to shift.Here we go.

“You ready to get married?” I ask Dallas, emotion causing my throat to dry. But it’s all the good emotions: joy, relief that today’s finally the day, peace.

Love. More love than I ever knew I could be capable of feeling.

Her brows knit together as she fluffs up her hair at the top of her head. That’s another traditional thing she did away with. She’s not wearing a veil, but instead chose a cluster of white flowers at the base of her neck under her low, wispy bun. And now she’s fussing over it, and I can tell she’s nervous.

“You look beautiful,” I insist.

“What about my lipstick?”

“So perfect that I can’t wait to make it very imperfect.”

Then she smiles and I wonder if my heart’s going to burst.

“That’s it.” My expression matches hers. “The smile I love.” I press a small kiss to her forehead.

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