Page 52 of One and Only

I laughed through my tears, and when my brothers laughed too, I knew they’d all heard him.

The pastor cleared his throat. “We are gathered here today to celebrate Greer and Beckett as they proclaim their love and commitment to each other. And we are gathered to rejoice, with them and for them, in the new life that they undertake with each other.”

Tim’s hands squeezed mine.

“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?” the pastor asked.

“Her mother and I do,” Tim said, voice clear and sure.

My ribs were too tight, my heart overflowing with love and gratitude and so much fucking sadness that he wouldn’t be with us forever that I could hardly stand straight.

But I pulled strength from his face and allowed him to hand me off to Beckett, whose eyes were suspiciously red as his palm slid under mine.

My tears ebbed, faced with this handsome stranger who I hardly knew. His hand was tight on mine, a necessary anchor in the midst of all the whirling chaos in my head.

We listened, eyes on each other as the pastor said a few words about love and commitment.

We repeated our vows, the words hardly even registering as they passed my lips.

And when we slid rings on each other’s fingers, mine trembled slightly.

Maybe it wasn’t going to be legal, but as Beckett pushed a simple gold band past my knuckle, holy hell did it feel real.

“By the power of the state of Oregon, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He smiled. “You may kiss your bride.”

Right.

Beckett gave me a small, secret smile, and I exhaled a quiet laugh. Like I was something precious and rare, he cupped my face in both hands, eyes unbearably earnest, and then he leaned forward to slide his lips over mine.

My free hand curled around his forearm, and I found myself leaning forward when he pulled back.

He didn’t retreat, though. He searched my eyes, then kissed me again, sucking my lower lip between his, yanking a surprised whimper from underneath my ribs.

Someone whistled, and I pulled away, resting my forehead against his while my family clapped and yelled.

“We did it,” he whispered.

“Almost,” I said, and grinned. “Just gotta get that marriage license,” I whispered against the shell of his ear.

Beckett tipped his head back and laughed, and I imagined how we must look.

The blushing bride and the happy groom.

Even I was almost convinced it was real.

Almost.

Chapter11

Beckett

The marriage license hung over my head like a guillotine, but Greer assured me throughout the day that she had it handled—after the ceremony when we posed for some pictures, during the simple, hearty lunch her mom had prepared for the family, and afterward when the dessert was being passed out.

There was no tall, ornate wedding cake because neither of us particularly liked cake, but I couldn’t help but watch Greer eye the apple pies on the long dining tables outside. There were donuts too, but instead of getting myself either of those, I asked Sheila if I was allowed to serve up the first slice of pie.

She cut a healthy piece, handing me the plate with a gleam in her eye. “If you take a bite of that before she gets it, you may not survive your first night as a newlywed.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” I told her seriously.

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