Inside, there’s a pretty silver band, set with a stone as violet as the tips dyed in my hair.
“What I wish, more than anything,” he says gruffly, his voice thick with emotion, “is that you’ll say yes, Peace. Give me forever.”
I laugh—I can’t stop myself. My voice needs to do something with the joy overflowing inside of me.
How can I say anything but yes? He’s the part of my song, the muse to my melody, everything I’ve been searching for all my life.
I fling myself against him, gasping out my “Yes” as I kiss him with my all.
I lose myself in it—the warmth of his mouth, the scratch of his beard, and I’m lost in so many sensations, taking in the world around me and feeling connected to everything. The scent of wildflowers, the taste of this man, the brightness and warmth of the sun, the heat of his hands on my waist, my back, then buried in my hair and pulling me in deep until I can’t feel anything but him.
His tongue traces my lips jealously, leaving me gasping. His teeth graze, a reminder how sensitive he can leave me with the smallest movements.
I’m gasping, breathless, by the time he lets go, clinging to him to stay upright as we lean hard into each other.
“So this is us,” he whispers, pushing his forehead to mine.
His cadence, his breath, his strength wrapped so tight draws me deeper into our own little universe.
I smile, rubbing my nose to his.
“This is us,” I answer as he slips that ring on my finger, lacing our hands together. I squeeze his fingers, then glance out over the cliff. “Shall we?”
“Hell yeah.”
Together, we gather up handfuls of flowers, weaving them together in alternating links of pink and blue, making them into wreaths, laughing as he tickles a soft flower head under my nose.
Then we throw them over the edge, sending them sailing, watching the wind catch them and make them float down gently, slowly.
It’s too peaceful, too hopeful, too perfect. Until Blake tosses something else.
A little string of firecrackers snaps and crackles, making bright bursts of light as it follows the flowers down. He looks at me and winks.
I let out a startled laugh, tugging at his hand. “Idiot. That’s a fire hazard, you know.”
“Wrong.” With a rumble, he drags me in close against the hardness and heat of his body, his eyes sparking bright as fireworks. “You’re the only fire hazard here today, darlin’.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It would if you knew how hot you get me,” he says, leaning into me, all the desire in the world darkening his eyes as the distance between us grows smaller and smaller, hotter and hotter.
Okay, so maybe it does make sense.
“Show me,” I whisper, folding my fingers against the back of his neck, my body already growing warm with my need for him—a passion that will never end. “Show me again and again, Blake, for as long as we both live.”
Weeks Later
Leave it to me to sing at my own freaking wedding.
It’s not quite planned. It’s not quite what anyone intended, but my wedding, well...
It turned into as much beautiful chaos as the rest of my life.
And I love every hot messy minute of it.
The sound system to play the wedding march malfunctioned and caught fire. Blake singed his tuxedo putting it out. The doves that were supposed to be released over the cliff got out of their cage and burst free in a squawking flock over the sky.
One of them tried to nest in my mother’s hair.
And she actually laughed. I hadn’t seen her smile even once since she’d flown in from Oahu.
Holt tried to hit on Ember, not realizing she wasn’t just my bridesmaid, but Doc’s wife, and nearly got pushed over the cliff for his troubles. Good thing Blake insisted on having two best men in Holt and Warren.
Leo’s son Zach coerced Andrea into carrying him on her shoulders, and they charged around playing horsey while everyone was trying to find their seats.
Everything was a mess.
But it was ours.
I’ve never been happier.
And I don’t think the priest has ever seen anyone laugh through most of their wedding vows like Blake and I did.
It’s hard not to.
We met by total accident in disaster, and it’s like uncertainty and mishaps follow us around everywhere.
All the more reason to be certain of each other.
And there’s not a moment’s doubt in our eyes, our voices, when the time comes.
We lace our fingers and say “I do.”
It should be our moment, something sacred and private.
But somehow, we belong to the entire town, too. I swear I can feel Heart’s Edge nodding its approval with the mountains, the trees, the gorgeous flowers tilting our way as all the guests break into laughter and applause.
Soon, we’re whisked away to dance with everyone but each other, then thrust back together for that one special slow dance. I cling to my new husband—husband, how crazy is that?—breathlessly for dear life. Blake just smiles so easy, like he was born for this, and maybe he was.
Because we’re each other’s refuge in the whirlwind.
Yesterday, today, and forever.
Before long, we get pulled apart again after dancing a few rounds.
There’s a whirlwind of people. Everybody from Felicity to Ember to Warren and Haley’s little niece, Tara, who’s visiting this summer. Someone pulls on Blake’s arm. He looks up and grins.
“Best damn wedding shindig I've ever seen, brother,” Holt Silverton says, his whiskey colored eyes flashing. “Here’s one more gift for the road.”
Uh-oh.
For a second, Blake’s face goes blank. I wonder if they’re about to get into their usual scrap over their mom’s inheritance. Then Holt holds up a big bubbly bottle of very expensive-looking champagne.
“Only if I’m raising a toast to you, bro. Without you and the cavalry, no way would I be standing here a married man, grinning like a fool.” He takes the bottle and slaps Holt’s shoulder.
Thank God. Relief steams out of my lungs, and I smile, feeling this giddy serenity coming over everything.
“We gonna be seeing you again after the honeymoon, or are you jetting off to Chicago or New York?”
Holt gives back a near-identical lopsided grin that makes me laugh.
“Actually, I’ve been doing some thinking. With the building contracts I’ve got lined up, you know...I might just settle into Heart’s Edge for a little while. Just traded up my little rambler Airbnb rental for nicer digs at the Charming Inn till I can find something more permanent.”
Blake nods, smiles again, and starts to tug me forward by the hand again before stopping. He looks back over his shoulder. “It’s good to have you back,” he tells Holt.
“Good to be back, Blake.”
Just like that, we fade into the crowd, pressing hands with friends and acquaintances and maybe even a few low-key journalists. All the drama going down here the last couple years is close to putting this little town on the map.
Then someone says they heard that catchy song on the radio, and they beg me to sing it, and suddenly I’m standing under my own wedding bower with a mic thrust in my hand. Half singing, half laughing, I give the people what they want while they dance together and talk and throw wild humor back and forth.