Page 117 of Not Another Yesterday
And not just that. Last night at dinner, a random image of my own wedding to Ronan drifted into my head. I let myself sit with it for a moment, allowed myself to look years into the future. I didn’t even try to fight the butterflies that came with it. I only snapped out of it when Tori leaned over and asked what was up with the “mushy smile” on my face.
Now, in the quiet of early morning, I lie there watching Ronan sleep. His features are completely relaxed—softer than I ever get to see them when he’s awake. The usual seriousness, that subtle tension he carries like he’s always bracing for the next shoe to drop, is gone. In sleep, he looks vulnerable. Lighter. Like some part of him still remembers, even unconsciously, what it’s like to be unafraid. I know this softness will vanish the moment he wakes up, so I drink it in while I can.
I let my eyes roll over his face—his strong brow, symmetrical nose, soft, full lips. That scar under and around his left eye is so light now, though still visible. It’ll never truly fade. A permanent reminder of the war he’s fought. But I don’t dwell on it. Instead, I let my gaze wander lower, across the lines of his bare chest and stomach. I have an immediate urge to run my fingers over the ridges of his abs. The dull but delicious ache between my thighs reminds me how many times over the past thirty-six hours I’ve already gotten to enjoy his body, how often we’ve had sex. I’m sore, yes, but not so much that I don’t want him again. We have months to make up for, after all.
I almost give in, too, but Saoirse’s voice chimes through the house, loud and clear like the matriarch she is. “Breakfast is ready!”
Ronan’s eyes blink open, still heavy with sleep. But the second our eyes meet, he smiles.
We wait a few minutes, listening for footsteps, voices, the scrape of chairs. Once the coast is clear, Ronan slips out of my room without a sound. I take my time getting dressed. By the time I join everyone at the table, Ronan’s already in his usual spot, his damp hair suggesting a quick shower, like he’s been up for hours.
If we thought we were good at sneaking around, we were obviously wrong.
After breakfast, just before heading to his dad’s cabin to get ready for the wedding, Ronan pops his head into my room.
“So, your mom and my dad apparently came to wake us up this morning,” he says, that familiar mischievous gleam in his green eyes. “My dad couldn’t find me in my room. Your mom found me in yours.”
I gasp. “Oh, no.”
Ronan chuckles, unfazed. “Yeah. I just got an earful about being more careful if I want to keep paying you nightly visits. Apparently your dad and my grandma wouldn’t like the thought of us in the same bed.”
I huff. “They can’t seriously believe we’re notsleepingtogether.”
“Oh, they absolutely do,” he says, frowning. “As far as they’re concerned, we’re both untouched virgins. Anyway, note to self: set an alarm tomorrow.” He winks before disappearing off to join the guys while the women get ready in the main house.
***
We spend the next couple of hours helping each other get ready. I unzip the garment bag to reveal a silk, tea-length dress in the most perfect ocean blue. It fits like it was made for me, the fabric soft against my skin. The photographer flits around, capturing moments here and there, until a soft knock at the front door lets us know it’s time. Penny’s dad enters, his eyes instantly teary at the sight of his daughter in her wedding gown.
“Alright, everyone, let’s head out,” my mom—Penny’s maid of honor—calls, and we all step outside to make the short walk. The ceremony is set just beyond the barn, in an open green field under a wide Montana sky. We line up inside it, just out of sight of Frank, who’s already waiting.
My face lights up as soon as I spot Ronan. He’s standing with his brother and Shane, all three of them in tailored suits. But it’s Ronan I can’t look away from. As if he can sense me, he turns and his eyes find mine.
“Baby,” he breathes, stepping toward me and holding out his hand. “You’re stunning.”
I blush. Because of course I do. “Thank you. You clean up nice, too.”
He’s never looked more handsome—fitted black suit, crisp white dress shirt, and a bow tie that somehow doesn’t look out of place on him.
“I love the bow tie,” I say with a grin.
He groans softly. “Glad someone does. I feel like a penguin,” he says, tugging at it like it’s cutting off airflow.
“Well, I like penguins.”
“I’m aware,” he chuckles. “But usually the cutesy type.”
“True.” I laugh, brushing a kiss to his lips.
“Knock it off, you two,” my mom calls, stepping up beside us with Steve, Shane’s dad, and Penny’s sister. “Time to line up.”
We wait for Miranda to start singing. Ronan looks over at me, his eyes bright.
“Ready?” he whispers.
I nod, taking his hand. Together we walk down the aisle, flanked by just our closest friends and family. Miranda’s voice floats through the air as she sings, her guitar soft and soulful. The mountains loom in the distance, still snow-capped despite the sun, completing the breathtaking scene. It’s like a fairy tale.
I take it all in as we follow Penny’s sister, Piper, who’s paired with Steve, and then my mom and Seamus in the front. At the head of the aisle stands a beautiful arch, draped with flowers and greenery. Frank waits beneath it, looking sharp in his suit, next to his dad, who’s officiating.
