Page 120 of Perfect Playbook

“I’m very lucky.”

“Hold on to him.” My dad’s words are far away. “Enjoy every moment.”

I’ve been pushing myself to be more vulnerable and allow myself grace for wanting things like fairy tales. This is why I told Logan I wanted to wear a wedding dress tonight. It’s also why I kept it in a no-go zone in our closet.

I sit in my childhood bedroom, glancing at my hair in the mirror on the wall, waiting for my husband to come. He’s five minutes late. So maybe five more. Impressively being on time is something he’s improved upon, but I still have to give him leeway.

Then, there’s a light knock on the door.

I stand, smooth the front of my satin dress, suddenly feeling so nervous. I didn’t have time to go to a bigger city or look online or go anywhere but Buffy’s Boutique on Main Street. So my dress is simple. Spaghetti straps, a little cleavage, but Buffy tailored it perfectly along the curves of my childbearing hips and mummy tummy, and frankly, I don’t think I would have liked the way I looked better if I was still twenty.

I hope Logan agrees, because as much as I feel beautiful right now, I want him to think so, too.

“Come in,” I spread out my veil behind me.

The door creaks open, and there is my six-foot three handsome husband in a tux fitted to his every angle. He’s dapper. Sexy… and his jaw is totally slack. He throws his hands in front of his mouth, surprised, and by his wide eyes, it’s pleasantly so.

It’s the first time in a long time he’s been speechless, and the empty space conjures up butterflies.

I smooth the sides of my dress with nervous hands. “You like? I know it’s not all rhinestones and lace.”

He still hasn’t blinked. “You, my love, have literally taken my breath away.” He comes in and closes the door. His jaw works in concentration as he beholds me like this is a fairy tale. He takes me by the hands. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

“I hoped you’d like it. I didn’t have much time to…”

“Stop that. It’s not your style to apologize. You. Are. Stunning. And the words you’re looking for are…”

“Thank you?”

“More like… yes, I am stunning.” He lightly traces the bare skin over my collarbone, down over my peaked nipple that unabashedly makes a show, and wraps his hand firmly around my waist. “Do we have to go out there now? People expect me to be late.” His gaze is full of mischief.

“Ten minutes late is all you get with the Mendez family before you’re expelled. I’m sure we’ll get back to doing forever and everything else going through that dirty little mind of yours soon enough.”

He kisses me gently. “How will I keep my hands off you tonight?” He lets his forehead fall to mine. “Later, baby, I’ll fall to my feet and slither up this dress so fast, you won’t know what bit you.”

I’m so damn happy I could explode. And it only gets sweeter.

“Before we go out there…” He pulls a ring box out of his inner jacket pocket. “I got you a present.”

“Logan…” I take the small velvet box from him; one of its edges is worn down. It doesn’t appear new, nor from one of the many luxury jewelry stores Logan has insisted on taking me to when it was Christmas and Valentine’s Day.

“What is this for? We have rings.”

“Open it.”

Inside are two basic silver rings. They match, one with a sun and one with a moon. They’re beautiful… but I don’t get it.

“They’re promise rings. I bought them for us the day you left Golden Sierra.” He points to them. “They go together. The sun and the moon. I thought you’d be the moon back then, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

I’m stunned. I drop my gaze back to these rings, now nearly twenty years old.

He carries on like he’s nervous about what I’m going to say. “You probably don’t remember the little bag I brought with me that afternoon.”

I do. It was small, fancy-looking for us back then, but I was far too gone to think about what was inside. “You bought us promise rings?”

Just like Logan said, there I was preparing for the worst, and Logan was preparing for the best. It’s just the most heart-wrenching example of how our most essential qualities, how our boundaries, defenses, fears, and even strengths can be the worst of us.

My eyes sting.

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