Page 41 of One and Only

“I’m not,” Greer said. “I promise.” She paused, catching my eye for a moment. “It’s just speeding up what we already know,” she said quietly. “I can’t think of any good reason to wait, when I already know I want to marry him.”

It was Tim’s turn to blink away tears, but his gaze never moved from his daughter’s face. One tear slid down his grizzled cheek. “Greer, are you sure?”

She turned and looked at me, nodding slowly. “Sometimes you just know when it’s the right thing to do.”

It would have been a perfect time to kiss her. In the soft dusk light on her parents’ front porch. While I imagined it, my eyes locked onto her mouth. She exhaled shakily, and I tore my gaze from her face.

Tim’s hands were folded over his middle, and he shook his head in stunned disbelief. “I did not see tonight ending up this way.” Then he smiled. “You’ll take care of my girl?” he asked.

One side of my lips ticked up in a lopsided smile.If it’s the one thing we do, the only thing we do, we stick to the truth as much as possible.

The words came easily when I thought of it like that. “I don’t know that Greer needs me to take care of her, but I do know that I need her in my life. That she makes everything just a bit easier when she’s around.” I cleared my throat. “She gives the best hugs. And her mind is the most terrifyingly incredible thing I’ve ever seen.”

Greer grinned. “Is that your way of saying I scare you?”

“Only a little,” I admitted.

Tim let out a happy sort of sound, a hum, a sigh of relief. Slowly, and with only the slightest wince, he pushed himself to standing, extending his hand as he did.

I stood as well, gripping his hand firmly as we shook.

Tim’s voice was rough with emotion. “Welcome to the family, Beckett.”

Chapter8

Greer

With the family dinner behind us, we were able to fully pivot into wedding planning mode. But I still had to keep my guard up as I navigated a hundred different conversations. Because the way I imagined it, there would be three family members who’d be the hardest to convince.

Cameron—because I spent the most time with him, and he’d have no problem taking a sledgehammer to any logic that he found flawed (a side effect of being a really good builder meant he had a bloodhound’s nose for seeking out the weak spots in any ideas).

Adaline—she was the sister I was closest to, and because we were so close in age, she’d always had the uncanny ability to read my mind. My saving grace in this situation was that her boyfriend, Emmett, had kept her so preoccupied with their shiny new disgustingly perfect romance that I could skimp on some details and she might not call bullshit.

My mom.

The woman who gave birth to me.

Who could take one look at my face and know when I needed a hug or a drink or chocolate or to just cry it out over a good movie.

The same mother who was currently sketching out chair and aisle layouts for a backyard wedding.

“If we line up the chairs this way, you and Dad can come from inside the house and Beckett won’t have to see you before the wedding.”

Poppy tilted her head. “Are we doing that old-fashioned stuff?”

“No.”

“Yes,” my mom said at the same time.

She and I traded a look.

When I saw the mom-glint buried deep in the depths of her blue eyes, I held up my hands. That was not a battle worth fighting.

I’d lose, judging by the look in her eye. I’d lose painfully, too.

“Fine,” I said. “No looky beforehand.” I paused. “Even though it ruins the ability to take pictures before the wedding so the reception can start right away, but whatever,” I muttered under my breath.

Mom ignored me, a satisfied smile covering her face as she tapped her finger on the paper in front of us. “Yup. This is it. Your brothers can string patio lights from the trees and use those poles your dad has out in the barn to anchor them behind the chairs. I’ll rent a couple of long tables for the reception.”

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