Page 7 of With You Forever

The thought of living next to his brother, his best friend, his nephew ...

Tugging a hand through his hair, Seth shakes his head. “Fuck, man. I don’t know what to say.”

Luke chuckles. “Say yes.”

An excitement he’s never known fills Seth up inside. Building Lacey her dream home, giving his girl a closet as big as Montana, giving her everything she deserves and then some...

Fuck.

He wants it. With every breath in his body.

“I gotta talk to Lace first, but if she’s good ... yes.” Seth grins at his brother. “Fuck yes.”

In response, Luke lets out a jubilant whoop, pounds the bar top.

Seth can’t wait to show Lacey.

Their future.

Lacey sits next to her older sister on a hard gray chair in the hospital breast center clinic. Her leg bounces a mile a minute as her eyes scour her surroundings. The office waiting room could use some color. It’s bland. Depressing. Quiet. Too quiet. Everything she doesn’t want right now. She doesn’t want to think about what she’s doing here. Has never liked these reminders of her mother and her own mortality.

So she resets her thoughts. Turns her mind to prettier things. Like wedding dresses. Her wedding dresses.

She drops her eyes to the folder on her lap. Her wedding planner, where she’s torn pages from wedding magazines and curated her magical June wedding. A combination of modern cowboy vibes. The old schoolhouse where they’ll marry. Custom cocktails. Eclectic table settings. Wildflowers plucked from Wild Antler Farm. Vibrant colors of lavender, rust, blush, and sand. A bohemian-styled altar. Mini whiskey bottles that double as escort cards and party favors for guests.

She’ll never admit it to Seth, but the wedding is out of control.

Only slightly.

Lacey’s heart speeds up when she flips to the page containing her wedding dress. Her actualactualwedding dress. Sure, she has a pre-wedding dress and a reception dress, butthisdress—what she’ll wear walking down the aisle to meet Seth—is the most special. With a long scalloped train and low V-back and a bow, she can’t wait for Seth to see her in it.

Saying their vows ... taking his last name ...

Romantic ideas, sure, but Lacey can’t help but be a romantic. Especially with Seth. With this man who’s loved her better than anyone ever has.

Turning to Sal, Lacey flips the page and drills a nail into the photo of her second dress. “So this one is the reception dress. A mini dress with ostrich-feather cuffs. This one really says I’m going with drama instead of comfort.” She glances over. Her sister’s not listening. Sal’s pretty face is taut with worry as she sits silent and contemplative while Lacey’s been rambling a mile a minute.

“Sal?” Gently, she bumps her shoulder into her sister’s.

Blinking, Sal looks up and over.

“You’re nervous,” Lacey says.

Sal looks at Lacey’s bouncing leg and smiles. “You’re nervous too.”

“I know. I just hate this.” She draws out her sigh. “Had to drag me along, didn’t you?”

Sal laughs, then gives her a stern big-sister look. “You’re overdue, Lace. I may have memory issues, but I remember this.”

Lacey flinches at the kind admonishment only Sal can dish up. She’s had annual mammograms since she was twenty-five. There’s no excuse for skipping her checkup, even though she has all the excuses in the book. Moving. Waiting on insurance. Finding a new doctor. Touring with Seth. She put it off too long until Sal booked them both appointments.

Sal adjusts herself in the seat, crossing her arms across her slender frame. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I hate it too. I can’t remember Mom, and yet here I am, going through what she went through.” She swallows. “Especially with Cash and Luke ...”

A pang of pain hits Lacey. Sal’s fear is losing anyone in her family—especially Cash. The little baby is the greatest treasure of her life and, if Lacey’s honest, everyone else’s.

She couldn’t imagine not living near her nephew. She’s loved these last ten months in Nashville. Making friends, being present, having a family. Being able to see her sister, Cash, whenever she wants has been the best kind of dream.

“Anyway, enough with the sad talk,” Sal says with a smile, tucking a long strand of chocolate-brown hair behind her ear. “You were saying about dresses?”

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