Page 63 of Aisle Come Back to You

I’ve never been moreglad to be a man when I heard that all the others in the bridal party were arriving at 7 a.m. to get their hair and makeup done for the day’s festivities. While I offered to be there in solidarity, I was assured it would be boring and that I should just arrive at ten to get dressed and take pictures before the wedding starts at noon.

I suppose one good thing about arriving early is the fact that I don’t have to park too far away, since even now I have to park more than a few houses down the road. Given how beloved Ronnie and the rest of the Prescott family are, I’m sure this place is going to be packed in a few short hours, with most everyone in town in attendance.

After parking, I make my way to the front door, where I’m greeted by Martha, Ronnie’s mother. “Oh, my goodness! If it isn’t Ford Hastings.” She smiles, enveloping me in a warm hug. “You look amazing. Ronnie is going to be so pleased,” she adds with motherly affection as she places a hand on my chest, herfingers lightly grazing over my baby-blue tie. Ronnie’s parents have not only always been kind and generous, but they have always treated both Blair and me as if we were their own children.

“Thanks, Mrs. Prescott.” Despite her comfy pink sweats that say “Mother of the Bride” on the front, and the fact that only her hair and makeup have already been done, she looks beyond stunning. “You look pretty amazing yourself,” I assure her.

You know that joke about a mother looking like a sister? Well, in this case, it’s actually true. Martha’s beauty has always been undeniable, and it’s evident that this is exactly who Ronnie inherited her good looks from.

“Oh, stop,” she says, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she dismisses my compliment with a small wave. “But I better not keep you. Just head upstairs to Ronnie’s old room. That’s where all the bridal party is gathered,” she explains as I nod my head.

Sending me off with another wave, I head up the tall staircase and make the usual trek to Ronnie’s childhood bedroom. Wanting to make sure that everyone is ready and decent, I knock first.

“Who is it?” Gemma’s voice calls, before opening the door just a tiny bit as she peeks her head through.

“It’s Ford,” I say, as she finally opens it to let me inside.

“Aw, Ford. You look so great,” she coos.

“Thanks,” I say, glancing down at the grey suit that had been picked out for me. Even though I’m on the bride’s side of the wedding party, it was decided that I would wear the same suits as the groomsmen—a light grey suit, a baby-blue tie, and some brown Oxford dress shoes.

“You look great yourself,” I say, gesturing toward the stunning dusty-blue dress that I’d already gotten a small glimpse of on Blair when she’d tried it on at the bridal shop. I mean it too. She looks incredible, but as my eyes wander around the room and Icatch sight of Blair standing in front of a full-size mirror, I’m left utterly speechless. Fuck, she’s unbelievably breathtaking—and somehow she’s all mine.

There hasn’t been a single day in my entire life when I didn’t find her beautiful, but now, with her hair and makeup done, I’m utterly mesmerized as I admire her from behind. The dress hugs every single curve perfectly, and the way her wavy blonde hair falls down her shoulders and back is captivating, especially as the hair that’s been used to pull some of it back is styled in a braid of sorts.

“You should probably close that mouth of yours, Hastings,” Gemma jokes, tapping on the bottom of my stubbled jaw as I comply. Without realizing it, I’ve become one of those ridiculous comic strip characters with my jaw literally dropping toward the floor, but how can I not? I’m in complete and utter awe of this woman.

As Blair’s eyes meet mine in the mirror, I try my hardest not to relive that moment from the dress shop, especially as her face lights up with the most enchanting smile imaginable.

She turns around before we both walk toward each other, meeting halfway. “Looking pretty dapper there, bud,” she compliments, her hands lightly pressing against my chest as she sweeps them downward in a smoothing motion.

“Blair, you…you’re so goddamn beautiful,” I gush. Not the most eloquent reply, but the correct words seemingly elude me as I’m left in awe, completely captivated by her mesmerizing beauty. It’s a complete mystery why this woman has chosen to fall in love with a guy like me, but I’m not about to question it. At this point, my only course of action is to treat her with the love and respect she deserves, with the hope that maybe someday she’ll feel equally as fortunate as I do.

Her cheeks flush as she averts her gaze downward. “Thanks,” she manages, just as the door bursts open and the true woman of the hour walks in.

While it’s clear I only have eyes for Blair, there’s no denying that Ronnie makes a breathtakingly beautiful bride. Like Blair, I had seen her dress before when she got her last fitting done at the dress shop. Not to mention that I’d been dragged along to all the different places as she tried on dress after dress, and while I’d seen others that felt more fitting of her personality, when she’d said this was the one she wanted, I wasn’t about to fight her on it.

Like Blair, the dress and the beauty of the bride are only magnified by the fact that her short chestnut brown hair is curled just right with little white flowers woven into the strands that have been pulled back. Her natural beauty has always been striking, but the makeup she’s wearing now somehow makes her brown eyes and lips even more eye-catching.

However, it doesn’t take long to realize that something is amiss as her eyes stand wide and alert in pure panic.

“Ronnie,” Blair says, taking charge as she rushes toward our friend, pulling her inside, making sure to shut the door behind her. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

Worry takes over as I too rush over. Did Pete call off the wedding? I may have punched a guy recently, but I’m far from being a violent person. However, if that asshole did anything to hurt Ronnie, I’d unleash those punches again without hesitation—even if my hand is still a little sore from the last time.

“Gemma, Maeve,” she finally says, looking toward her other bridesmaids. “Can you give Blair, Ford, and I a minute?” she asks.

We clearly aren’t the only ones worried, and likely thinking the worst, as Gemma and Maeve exchange concerned glances, but instead of fighting her on this, they nod their heads in unison.

“Yeah, of course, sweetheart,” Maeve agrees. “Just let us know if you need anything,” she says, reaching out and giving Ronnie’s hand a small squeeze before she and Gemma exit the room.

“What’s going on? You’re worrying me,” Blair pleads the second the door is closed.

“I don’t know,” Ronnie says, her breath coming in short, rapid gasps, her panic escalating. “I just—I was thinking about our conversation last night,” she explains as I glance over at Blair for some hopeful insight on what in the hell is going on. “What if I’m making a huge mistake?”

“Oh, honey,” Blair begins, pulling Ronnie’s hand as she leads her to take a seat on the bed where I join them. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I mean, I know I said that I was concerned, but if marrying Pete is what feels right and you love him, then that’s exactly what you should do.”

“Yeah, what she said,” I chime in, moving to take my spot next to Blair. “We’re here to support you. No matter what and no matter what you decide to do—or not do,” I say, needing to make that second part very clear. While I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue if she decided not to go through with things, if that was ultimately what she needed to do, then Blair and I would both be there for her and help with the inevitable fallout.

---