“Where are you going?”
“I need to talk to Lo.”
“Galen.” Caz censures me with a warning look.
“It’s not what you think.” I turn to face him. “I’m letting her know that her choice is a little easier.”
Caz’s eyes grow wide. “You’re bowing out?” He steps toward me. “You don’t have to do that. She’s forgiven you, and you have every right to be considered as equally as we are.”
I smile, slapping him on the shoulder. “Appreciate the support, but it’s not that.” I slip out of the house before he can quiz me further, following the tracking app we all now have installed on our phones, which leads me to Lo’s location.
She’s sitting in a pretty garden that’s been created just inside the edge of the forest. It’s a small circular shape with a covered wooden gazebo in the middle, occupying prime real estate. A couple of benches are sheltered underneath the gazebo, and our girl is sitting on one. Shrubs and flowerbeds surround the wooden structure on all sides, and I’m betting it’s a gorgeous spot in the summer when all the flowers are in full bloom.
Lo looks up as I approach, her brow puckering. “Is everything okay? Has something happened?”
“Relax.” I ease myself down beside her. “Nothing has happened. I want to talk to you.”
She eyeballs me curiously. “Okay.” She drags out the word, and I can tell she’s still thoroughly confused.
“I’m not here to influence your decision, but I wanted to let you know it can’t be me.”
“Why not?” She pierces me with those gorgeous green eyes I dream about.
“I’m not eighteen till December. I can’t legally marry without parental consent.” Although Mom wouldn’t stop me, I can’t trust her with something this important.
“I just assumed you were the same age as us,” Lo admits.
“Everyone does, and I don’t bother correcting them.”
“Why didn’t you say anything inside?”
I shrug. “The others haven’t realized, and I preferred to talk to you in private. No one believes it would be me anyway.”
“Stop.” She clasps my face in her hands. “Don’t do that. I thought we had dealt with this.” Her eyes probe mine. “You mean as much to me as the others.”
“I know that.” I offer her a reassuring smile.
“Do you?” She holds my face tighter. “Do you know how much I love you? Because I do, Galen.” Her eyes blaze fiercely. “You haven’t made it easy, but the heart knows. I fucking love you.”
Emotion swells my chest and clogs my throat.
We move at the same time, our mouths colliding in a passionate kiss that confirms everything we’re feeling. I close my eyes, winding my hands around the nape of her neck and angling my head as we kiss, amazed at the depth of the emotions swirling inside me.
I never thought I could feel this much for a girl. Until Harlow Westbrook swept into our lives, bowling us over with her sexy charm, sharp wit, smart intellect, and fierce loyalty. I hope she finds her way on to the same page as us, because I already know I’ll never find another woman I love as much as this woman in my arms.
“Angel.” I pant over her lips when we finally break apart. “I will never love anyone the way I love you.”
We rest our foreheads together, still clinging to one another. “This is an impossible choice. One I don’t want to make,” she admits.
“Don’t beat yourself up over it, baby.” I brush my thumb along her plump lower lip. “We don’t want that.” I’m tempted to say it’s only a piece of paper, but I don’t want to denigrate the act to something so trivial. Not after our discussion inside. It’s clear from her torment that marriage is a big consideration for Lo, and I won’t cheapen it.
She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, sighing as she drops her hands into her lap. “I hate this. It feels like a competition. It’s like asking a mother to choose a favorite child.” She averts her eyes. “I can’t do it. I don’t want to hurt any of you. This feels wrong.” She looks back at me. “We’ll find another way.”
“There isn’t time.” Taking her hands, I lift them to my lips. “We’ll be fine with whatever decision you make. You are still ours, Lo, and we’re still yours. Marrying one of us doesn’t change that.”
I leave her to her thoughts, heading back inside the house.
“Thank fuck, you’re back.” Caz drags his hand through his hair. “This wedding shit is confusing as fuck.”
I hang up my coat, smirking. “It seems Theo and I are the only ones not getting our panties in a bunch.”
“That’s ’cause Theo knows she’ll choose him.”
“It’s not just that. He’s confident in her feelings for him. He won’t care if she doesn’t choose him.”
“What did you say to her?” he asks, gesturing me toward the kitchen table.
“I reminded her I’m only seventeen.” Lo is the oldest, having turned eighteen in April. Caz and Theo turned eighteen in July, and Saint celebrated his birthday in early August. I’m the baby in the crew, but it’s not something we ever dwell on, which is why I’m guessing it never even crossed the guys’ minds.
“Holy shit. I’d totally forgotten that.”
I shrug. “It’s no biggie. At least it makes her choice a little easier.”
We spend the next couple hours poring over websites, getting all the information we need on obtaining a marriage license and learning about everything else we might need to give our girl a special day. We can’t organize anything until we talk to the others about where this should take place. Getting married in Lowell or Prestwick or any area where we’re known is a big no-no, so city hall looks like the best option, but we need to speak to the guys and to Lo, to ensure they are happy with that, and then we can make more concrete plans.
The front door slams open, and I swivel in my chair, watching Saint storm into the house like a force of nature. “What’s up?” I ask, sensing his dark mood.
“The asshole called me while we were in the jewelry store,” he seethes. “He wants us back at the house tonight.”
“Aw, fuck.” Caz places his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hands. “I don’t want to leave.”
“It sucks,” Theo agrees. “But we knew it was coming.”
“I thought we’d at least get until Sunday.” He pouts.
“Where’s Lo?” Saint asks, looking around.
“In the garden on the outskirts of the forest at the back,” I explain.
“I’ll get her. Start packing,” Saint commands, slamming the door on his way back out.
“Did you get a ring?” I inquire.
“We got rings,” Theo says, grinning. “An engagement ring and wedding band.” He pulls two boxes from his inside pocket, quickly showing us the contents.
“Good choice.” I squeeze his shoulder. “She’ll love them.” They’re not traditional rings, but Lo’s not a traditional bride. She’s always marched to her own beat, and I’m glad the guys picked a ring that speaks to her personality.