The engine on the sports car hums beautifully when I power her up, and I settle back in my seat, cranking the music up high as I peel out of the garage, heading toward the city.
Ashley is waiting outside the studio when I arrive an hour later.
“Harlow.” She leans in, hugging me. “It’s good to see you out and about. You seemed in so much pain at the funeral.”
“I’m okay. Still in one piece. I’ve a couple of minor cuts and scrapes, and there is some lingering bruising and soreness around my ribs, but I’ve endured worse.”
“I was talking about emotional pain. How are you holding up?”
I shrug. “To be honest, I’m trying not to think about it. We have a lot on our plate, and we can’t afford for me to fall apart.” Pressure settles on my chest. “She’s still the first thing on my mind every day though,” I truthfully admit.
“I know no one can ever replace Sariah, but I meant what I said at the church. I’m here for you.”
“I appreciate it, and thanks for setting up this appointment. Especially at such short notice, and on a Sunday too.”
Her face lights up, and she loops her arm through mine. “I was glad to help. Michelle takes amazing pictures, and my family sends a lot of business her way, so she didn’t mind doing this today.”
We head into the studio, and Ashley introduces me to the photographer, leaving us to talk about my ideas while she goes to grab takeout coffee from the little coffee place down the road.
The photo shoot is fun, and I’m grinning like a loon, imagining the expression on the guys’ faces when they see them, as we step out into the chilly November air a couple hours later.
Ashley and I grab a quick bite to eat at a Mexican diner before parting ways. I had thought of inviting her to come with me to the vintage designer store, but I dismissed the idea as fast. While she’s given me no reason to distrust her, too much is riding on this strategy to let anyone else know what we’re planning to do.
_______________
I step into the store, fluffing out my hair and removing my scarf as I wait for one of the assistants to approach me. I have shopped at this store before, so I’m hoping they’ll have something that fits my vision. I know I could purchase something off-the-rack in one of the wedding stores, but I highly doubt a traditional wedding store will have the type of look I’m after, and we’re tight on time because this will be a quick courthouse wedding.
The store manager, Maggie, recognizes me, rushing forward to greet me, hugging me like I’m a long-lost friend. I explain what I’m after, and she squeals, rubbing her hands in delight, while she dashes around the store, grabbing a few items.
A half hour later, I’m standing in front of the mirror in the changing area, fighting a massive grin.
“You look absolutely perfect,” Maggie says, fluffing out the white layered tulle skirt. I fix the white lace leggings in place, admiring how shapely they make my legs look. “It’s definitely got that whole Madonna eighties vibe. You’re gorgeous.”
“I love it.” I hold out my arms, and she slips the short, white, fitted jacket over my arms. It complements the outfit, ensuring it doesn’t come across as slutty. My midriff is on display, because the tight white crop top stops a few inches under my boobs, but the neckline is high, so it’s not indecent. I opt for a pair of white high heels with a silver trim, and a sparkly silver clutch completes the look.
She packages up the clothing and boxes up the shoes and purse, and then I’m on my merry way.
I stop at a wedding store to pick up the silver tiara I ordered last night, because a queen can’t get married without a crown, duh, and then I visit the jewelry store I found online, explaining the type of wedding band I’m after to the amused man behind the counter. The second he takes out the tray, I spot the perfect ring. It’s a link wedding band in black tungsten, and there’s enough room on the inside to add the inscription I want.
I’m worried he’s having a coronary when I tell him I need four rings for my four grooms, and I wish I could record the moment because the guys would get such a kick out of the shocked look of horror on his face, but when I pass my platinum card over, he quickly gets over himself. I pay a premium to get a rush job on the engraving, and he promises to have all four rings for me to collect in a couple days.
I text Caz as I’m walking back to my car, arranging to meet them at the barn in an hour. Saint messages me a couple minutes later to confirm he has some guys coming to the house to watch over Mom while we’re gone, and that eases a layer of stress off my shoulders. I need to talk to her later. To see if I can convince her to move someplace safe, and I’m waiting for Diesel to call me back.
I blast Paramore as I drive toward Prestwick, a deep contentment sinking bone-deep. My life might be a shitshow at the moment, but making this commitment to my guys feels incredibly right, and I have zero doubts.
I arrive before them, using the code to let myself in through the gate.
A blast of heat hits me the second I enter the barn, and my heart warms at Theo’s thoughtfulness. I don’t need proof to know he dialed in remotely to switch the heating on.
I’m remarkably calm as I kick off my shoes, grab a beer, and settle on the couch to wait for my guys.
Butterflies swoop into my chest as the rumble of an engine grows louder and then it cuts out, right outside.
“Honey, we’re home!” Caz calls out, bursting through the door first, and I grin as I get to my feet, walking around the couch to greet the guys who are my everything.
I fling my arms around Caz, and he dips me down low as he slams his lips on mine, kissing me hard, making me dizzy with need.
“Dude, her ribs,” Galen chastises him, and Caz pulls us upright, breaking our lip-lock.
“It’s cool,” I say as Galen plants his hands on my hips, lowering his head to kiss me.
“You okay?” he whispers over my lips, and I smile as I cup his gorgeous face.
“I’m more than good.” I nuzzle my nose in his neck, inhaling his citrusy, woodsy scent
He nods, pecking my lips one final time before handing me to Theo.
Theo wraps his arms around me, hugging me to him, and his body heat seeps into mine, warming me all over. “Love you,” he says in a low voice so only I can hear. “And I’m fine with whatever you’ve decided.” His mouth slides against mine, and it’s the softest, sweetest brushing of our lips, but it’s everything.
Theo releases me, walking to the couches to join the others as Saint and I stare at one another. His eyes burrow into mine, and I know he wishes he could delve into my mind and find the truth. “Come here,” he demands, and his deep, raw tone sends delightful shivers coursing down my spine. I step toward him, and he pulls me close, slanting his mouth over mine in a long, deep, slow, passionate kiss that is tinged with pain and fear.
He thinks I won’t choose him. That he’s not worthy.
My heart hurts. I grab his shirt, holding him closer, opening my mouth, and letting his tongue inside. I pour everything into this kiss, hoping he feels it and that it reassures him.
Conscious of the others, I break the kiss, because I don’t want to prolong their agony. Taking Saint’s hand, I drag him over to the couch. We sit down beside Galen, and Caz distributes beers.