Page 1 of Reclaiming Kendall

Cold Feet

“Holy balls. I can’t fucking breathe,” I say, grabbing the wall to hold myself up. The past two years have flown by, but none quicker than the last several months. Just the sight of my face, alone, in the mirror as pale as the dress that I’m wearing makes me feel like I’m going to pass out.

“You okay in there?” Ryleigh, who happens to be my best lady friend and my maid of honor, asks through the door of the dressing room.

I wince at my reflection, “I think I need a paper bag.”

“What?” she asks, with her voice laced with confusion. Grumbling to herself, there’s a single knock on the door before she confesses, “I hope you’re decent in there, because I’m coming inside.”

The best thing to remember about Ryleigh is when she says that she’s going to do something, she’s going to do it. I only get half a second to make sure all my lady bits are covered before her head pops through the crack that’s formed with the opening door.

Her smile is brighter than the too white walls surrounding us on all four sides. Then her eyes find mine, “I couldn’t hear what you were saying with the door shut. Need me to do up the buttons for you?”

I wish I could find my voice again, but I can’t. All she gets is a nod in reply. When her face lights up, it’s all I can do to not break out into nervous giggles.

“Please tell me that it looks like shit, or that it doesn’t fit,” I beg as I turn the buttons to face her.

She snickers behind me, “Sorry, chickadee. I couldn’t lie to you even if I wanted to. You’re as stunning now as when you first tried this dress on six months ago.”

After doing up the buttons, she rests her chin on my shoulder to look at us in the mirror, “You look absolutely stunning. The guys aren’t going to know what hit them when they see you. I’ll be surprised if you make it all night without one of them ripping this thing right off.”

Were it anyone else saying that to me, it would probably make my face turn all kinds of shades of pink. A grin splits across my lips as a laugh finally spills from them. She joins me then scrunches her nose in disgust, “Sorry, the thought of one of them being my brother just hit me.”

That just pulls another laugh from my chest. One of my four men that I’ll be saying ‘I Do’ to in less than seventy-two hours is, in fact, her brother. I’m not sure what I’ve ever done to deserve one of them, much less all four. I’ll be damned if I ever take it for granted, though. Almost dying will do that to a person. Two years ago, when I was shot by the man that I’ve always known as my father, and I lay dying, they were my last thought. All of the good times mixed with all of the mistakes. I won’t admit this to anyone else, but I prayed to anyone and everything for one more chance to see them. I’ve always known that I loved them, but it wasn’t until that moment that I realized just how humanly fragile life is. As my body began to heal from the wounds, pieces from each one of them was sewn up inside of me. We all made an unspoken agreement to not let the obstacles in life drive us away from each other again. When the four of them took a knee in our beautiful new house that they had surprised me with and asked me to marry them, there was no other answer than yes.

Thinking of that moment sends a thrill through me. Every girl dreams of the perfect wedding, but I was never one of them. I always just thought I’d be lucky to even make it out of the trailer park. Going to college and getting married hadn’t ever been at the top of my priority list. All of that changed the same year that I lost Gramps and met my men. It’s true what they say about loss leading to life, just one giant circle. You learn to appreciate the small things that never seemed to matter before.

“Yo! Earth to Kendall,” Ry says, waving a hand in front of my face. She snorts, “Thinking about the honeymoon, eh?”

I would’ve managed to keep a straight face if she didn’t immediately waggle her perfectly-styled eyebrows at me. My bark of laughter has her own lips tilting up right before there’s a short knock at the door.

Lucas’s voice travels through the thin slats of the door, “Can I come in?”

It’s a soft honeyed sound that I’m one hundred percent sure I’ll never get tired of hearing. He could read me an encyclopedia, and I’d still find it sexy.

Of course, my instant desire comes to an abrupt halt when Ryleigh screeches threats at him through the door, “Lucas Rowe, God help you if you open that door, I’ll shave your eyebrows off in your sleep.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Imagine those wedding pictures. You wouldn’t do that to your best friend,” he replies with the smile evident in his voice.

She puffs up like an offended little bird, “Either walk away or close your eyes, because I’m about to open the door.”

His quiet chuckle flows through the door, and Ry squeezes out through the smallest crack she can manage. It’s no sooner clicked shut, than I hear her chastising him. My soft laugh echoes off the thin walls as I reach back to unzip my dress. Thankfully, Ry undid the top buttons before going after Lucas. Another twenty minutes, and I’m walking out of the dress shop with Lucas’s warm, tattooed hand wrapped around mine. Ry hung back to take the dress to her Jeep. The ceremony and reception both are being held on the lake at our house, but she said she didn’t want to take the risk of one of the guys peeking. We both know she only meant Teagan. He’s the only one who’s impatient enough to spoil the surprise.

“Penny for your thoughts, love?” Lucas asks as we walk towards his black truck parked against the curb. He gives me a boost inside on the passenger side before placing a kiss against my lips. Not bothering to wait for my reply, he shuts the door between us and walks around the front to hop in his side. The engine turns over quickly when he inserts his key. It would be shocking if it didn't, considering he's taken to working with his brothers in their car shop. Out of all the things that he could've done after we graduated college, working at the shop, he decided, would make him happier than any other job.

Light-blue eyes focus on me, "Not getting cold feet about marrying the four of us, are you?"

I lift the bucket seat divider, scoot over to the middle seat, and tease, "You wish, don't you?"

"Not a fucking chance, baby. I've told you a million times that you're my forever, and I mean it more and more every single day," he says, eyes crinkling around the edges with his smile.

It's nothing for me to reach up and run my hand through the shaggy dark-brown hair on the top of his head that's way past due for a trimming. My fingers find their way to the back of his head, and I pull him towards me. There’s a warmth, which I feel to my toes, that radiates from his lips when they press against mine. Grabbing ahold of his broad shoulders, I’m almost tempted to haul myself up into his lap to straddle him when I remember where we are. Making out in the middle of town is one thing compared to actually jumping his bones.

He must have the same thought, because he reluctantly, with one last peck against my mouth, says, "We'll finish this at home."

I nod, and he pulls us out onto main street. We live a little way out of town, so I get a good amount of time to focus fully on him. His fully-tattooed forearms are half covered by the rolled-up sleeves of a navy button-up shirt tucked into a pair of jeans, which honestly should be illegal for him to wear. No woman in her right mind would be able to resist such a temptation of watching the material bunch around his thick thighs. He doesn't even need to be standing in front of me for it to be known that his backside holds the same appeal. Years upon years of football has left every single one of them with shapely muscles in all the right places. Of course, now that they're no longer playing, I know that it takes more effort to stay fit. Exactly the reason why we have our own little gym off the main house full of almost every machine imaginable.

We pull onto our gravel road that leads to the house, and I unsnap my seatbelt, not wanting to wait any longer. Lucas doesn't miss a beat, grabbing me around the waist with one arm as I straddle his lap. Luckily for us, he's got long legs. Otherwise, there wouldn't be enough room between him and the steering wheel for us to pull this off.

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