He chuckles, rolling up onto the balls of his feet and back down. “Hey, a dad can try. It’s not easy to let your baby girl go.”
My smile falls. “You’ve had some practice doing that already.”
His head shakes slowly. “You might’ve left, but I never let you go.” I follow his gaze across the walkway, to where Wes stands with Warner and Wyatt. He meets my eyes and starts for us.
Dad winks at me again. “But this time feels a little more permanent.”
I pull my left hand from my dress pocket and stare at the emerald engagement ring, and his grandmother’s gold band that joined it yesterday. Who knew the first wedding to be held at The Orchard chapel would be my own?
“How’s my wife?” Wes says when he reaches us. His arms wrap around my waist and he brushes a kiss on my hairline. A tremble rolls through me. Wife. I like the word on Wes’s lips, especially the way he says it, with a hint of possession. There was never a better moment in my life than yesterday when I looked into his eyes and promised to love him forever.
I smile. “I’m good. Just taking in the scene. I still can’t believe it’s partially mine.” My dad shocked me when he, as a wedding gift, made me fifty percent owner of The Orchard. “I’m overwhelmed.” I look out over the scene and catch Warner removing a flask from his pocket and tipping it up to his lips. As a part of our soft opening, we’re only serving local beer and wine.
“How’s Warner?” I ask Wes, biting the side of my lip. Anna finally served him with divorce papers last week. It wasn’t the greatest time for him to watch his big brother get married, but I’m positive he was inebriated for most of it.
“I don’t think he’s feeling much of anything right now,” Wes answers, in a voice that conveys his pity and also irritation at his brother. “Why can’t—”
“You guys!” Jessie runs up, her cheeks pink and her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I just heard the craziest news from Marlowe. Are you ready for this?”
I nod, watching Marlowe walk up behind Jessie. She’s a head shorter than Jessie, her dad’s the mayor of Sierra Grande, and she’s been Jessie’s best friend for years.
“Her dad just gave permission for a production company to film a movie here, and that’s not even the best part…” She beams, trying to draw out the suspense, but she can’t take it and she blurts it out. “The actress signed on to do the film is Tenley Roberts. Tenley Roberts, you guys!” She grips Wes’s upper arm and shakes it.
“Who?” Wes asks.
Jessie huffs out an annoyed breath. “How can I be expected to go back to campus now? I need to be here. Maybe they’ll need extras.”
Wes makes a face. “You’re going back to college tomorrow, Jessie. This was just a weekend trip for the wedding and the opening.” His voice is stern, and very father-like.
Jessie shoots him a dirty look. “I know, Dad.”
An involuntary snicker comes from me, and Jessie grins proudly. “I’m going to go tell somebody who will have the right reaction to this news.” She marches off with Marlowe trailing behind her. Something tells me that’s how those two spend a lot of their time, with Jessie leading and Marlowe following.
“Don’t worry,” my dad says, laughing and patting Wes’s shoulder. “I don’t know who the hell Tenley Roberts is either.”
I can’t help my eye roll. I don’t keep tabs on Hollywood, but even I know who this person is. “Guys, she’s a big deal. Ever hear of Single And Loving It? Little Black Book? Worst First Date?”
“Those sound like chick movies.”
“Pretty much.” I shrug. “She’s basically the queen of romantic comedy.”
“I hear movie and I think of increased traffic in town,” Wes gripes.
I tap the tip of his nose. “Lucky for you, we don’t live in town.”
Wes kisses me, but it’s chaste, because my dad’s next to us. It’s not at all like the kisses we shared last night. Or this morning. And, hopefully, later tonight.
The Orchard’s grand opening festivities continue for a few more hours. One thing about the town of Sierra Grande is that they know how to party. The advertisements for the opening went out to neighboring towns, and based upon the number of attendees, I’d say we had a good turnout from those folks.
On the way out, a few older men stop and chat with Wes. One wears a ball cap bearing a military insignia. I am only a few feet away, close enough to introduce myself, but I don’t. Wes never talks about the meetings, and I don’t ask. Wading through grief and trauma is tough work, and deeply personal. Experience has taught me this.
The old men move on from Wes, smiling over at me as they go. I may not know them, but they appear to know me.
Wes slips an arm around my waist and pulls me close to his side. “Are you ready to go home, Mrs. Hayden?” he murmurs into my ear.
“So ready,” I answer. The Orchard is mostly empty, and Jo already told me to take off, promising she was more than capable of closing down. Wyatt left an hour ago, nearly carrying Warner out while Anna’s parents looked on. They didn’t look pleased, but I think it had more to do with their daughter’s choice than Warner’s drunkenness. Wyatt’s irritation, however, was definitely because of Warner. Caring for a shit-faced brother isn’t a role Wyatt is used to; from what Wes tells me, it’s usually the other way around.
I say goodbye to my dad, and Abby and her family. I’m meeting them for breakfast in the morning, before they leave to head home. Abby brought me a necklace of our mother’s to wear for my wedding, and when I go to unclasp it, she stops me.
“Keep it, Dakota. It looks better on you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, pulling her in tight, and when she moves away, I hold her tighter. I love Wes and Sierra Grande, but I’m going to miss my sister.
They leave, my sister and Armando each carrying an exhausted little girl, and I wave goodbye to Jo.
Wes ends up having to lead me out to his truck, because as much as I can’t wait to get to our home, I also really love what I’ve built. The Orchard fills me with indescribable pride.
Wes drives us home, and later, after a glass of wine on the front porch, we lie down in bed and he pulls me into him.
“What’s next for you?” he asks, his words tumbling into my hair. “Please tell me you’re going to take a break. You deserve it.”
I shift, rolling over to face him. My fingertips trail over his chest. “I’m going to start working on plans to expand this place.”
“Expand?”
“We’re going to need more space.”
Wes becomes instantly serious. “Are you telling me you’re pregnant?”
“Not yet…” We’ve talked about kids, and neither of us wants to wait too long before starting a family.
Wes kisses me, in just the way I’ve been waiting for. The kind that promises more. When he pulls back for a breath, he says, “Let’s start trying. Right.” He dips down, kissing my neck. “This.” Lower, to my chest. “Very.” Lower, to my belly. “Second.”
I laugh, and he responds with his own smile, and I feel it against my skin.