“Oh, no, they’re not the first,” Corbin says, holding his hands up in the air, one of them holding a bottle of beer. “That title goes to the two of you.” He points to McKenna and me.
“You might want to slow down on those, bud.” I aim to the bottle of beer in his hands. I’m pretending like I don’t know what he’s talking about, yet the memory is my most vivid from my childhood.
“Do you two remember the day I walked in on you two—” He gestures to McKenna and then me. “—in the treehouse, and you were getting married?” He laughs.
“Stop.” McKenna laughs with him. “I was seven.”
Corbin gives me a mischievous grin. “It’s been what? Sixteen years? You think you two still have it in you?” He wags his eyebrows. “I’m thinking we need a reenactment.”
“I think Lara and Colby should do the reenactment,” I speak up, turning the heat from McKenna and me.
“Nope. That’s bad luck,” Corbin fires back.
“No, it’s not,” McKenna argues.
“Yep. It’s bad luck to pretend to marry the person you’re actually going to marry,” Laramie explains. I can tell by the look in my sister’s eyes that she knows she’s talking shit and no such theory exists. I mean, that’s what wedding rehearsals are for, right?
“Colbs, I think we need to cut her off.” McKenna makes a slashing motion across her neck. “She’s had enough.”
“Hush.” Laramie’s grin grows wider. “Besides, it’s not a true reenactment unless it’s the original actors.”
“We’re not actors,” I counter. My sister waves her hand in the air. “And we’re already married,” I say, joking.
“Nope. Single as a Pringle.” McKenna holds up her hand, showing she’s not wearing a ring. That pleases me more than it should.
“What’s the matter, Callahan?” Corbin goads. “You afraid to catch McKenna’s cooties?”
“Are you twelve?” I ask him. My heart races at the thought of my lips touching hers. One time in my life, I kissed her. I was nine years old, and the memory is one I will never forget. I’m twenty-five. What does that say about me?
He brings his beer to his lips and makes a show of draining the bottle. “Nope. Are you a pussy?” he asks.
From beside me, McKenna bursts into laughter.
“Really?” I ask her. I’m trying very hard to remain stone-faced, but I can’t do that when she laughs like that. So carefree. So beautiful.
“If I remember correctly, you volunteered to play with me that day,” she muses, tapping her index finger against her chin.
“You really wanna do this?” My eyes stay trained on hers. There’s a part of me that wants her to say yes, and a part of me that is worried that I won’t be able to stop once my lips mold with hers.
She nods. “I mean, unless you’re scared?” The corner of her mouth tilts up in a smile.
“It’s just a show for our fans,” I say, making them all laugh. “I’m only getting married once in real life. It’s definitely not going to be some snap decision at a bonfire,” I tell them.
“Oh, hush.” My sister laughs. “Just humor me.”
Fuck it. Reaching over, I take the new beer that Corbin just opened out of his hands and down the entire thing. “Let’s do this,” I tell them.
Corbin claps his hands together, as does my sister, as I’m placed on one side of the fire, while McKenna is led to the opposite so she can “walk down the aisle” to me, or at least that’s what Laramie is mumbling about. My hands are sweaty, but I know if I wipe them on my jeans, Corbin will call me out. That fucker never misses anything. Hence the reason we’re performing this little charade. I made the mistake of telling him how good she looked yesterday, and well, now here we are.
My reluctance has nothing to do with being a pussy, or being scared. It’s not because I think McKenna has cooties. I mentally roll my eyes with that one. No, it’s because I’ve had a thing for my sister’s best friend for years. She was the first girl I ever kissed, and tonight, she’s too fucking tempting. Her long brown hair cascades down her back. Those short cutoff jean shorts that make her legs look incredible and that tank top that does nothing to hide the impressive tits that live just below the surface of the fabric. I’m hesitant because I’m not sure once my lips touch hers that I’ll be able to stop. I’ve been fighting this for a long damn time.
At first, I wanted to wait until she graduated. I’m two years older than her, and I thought that was the right thing to do. Then she announced she was accepted to Harvard for prelaw with the dreams of following in her grandpa’s footsteps. Telling her then would have only caused pain for both of us. No way was I going to interfere with her living her dream. This time she’s home for good. She’s back, and I’m not sure I have the willpower to resist her.
“You nervous?” Corbin smirks.
“Terrified,” I say, deadpan. That’s not the truth, but not a complete lie either. I’m cautious. That’s a better way to describe it.
“Yo, Lara, you ready?” Corbin calls out.
“Colby, you have to walk her down the aisle,” Laramie calls back.
“I thought this was a reenactment. That didn’t happen.” I know, because even though I was nine years old, that’s one of my most vivid memories of my childhood. That day I kissed McKenna Dawson on the lips is the day I realized she wasn’t just my little sister's best friend.
“Ready,” Laramie calls out.
I’m staring off into the darkness of the night, trying to keep my shit together, when I feel an elbow in my side. “Dude, you’re supposed to only have eyes for your wife,” Corbin tells me. His eyes are glassy, but he’s not too far gone to not know what he’s doing. With a roll of my eyes for him, I turn toward the fire and watch as Colby walks McKenna around the flames, stopping just before she gets to me. My hands tremble to touch her.
McKenna is all smiles as she links her arm with mine and glances up at me. “You ready, handsome?” she asks in a Southern drawl that’s not her own.
“Shh,” Corbin scolds before I can reply. He clears his throat and begins. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join Rip Callahan and McKenna Dawson in holy matrimony.” He yammers on with random words that I’m not entirely sure are involved in a wedding. I’ve been to a few, but usually, I check out after the first line until the “you may kiss the bride” portion of the event. That’s usually my cue that it’s time for drinks. Even if I wanted to pay attention, I wouldn’t be able to, though. Not with her on my arm like she is.
“Rip, do you take McKenna to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
I’m looking down at her, and she’s looking up at me. The glow of the fire dances in her brown eyes. She takes my breath away, and I’m finding it hard to breathe.
“Rip, buddy. You’re supposed to say, ‘I do,’” Corbin whispers, but we can all hear him.
I swallow hard. My eyes never leaving hers. “I do.”
“McKenna, do you take Rip to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Corbin repeats the question. My hair that’s now hanging just below my ears blows into my eyes. McKenna raises her hand and tucks it behind my ear. Once she’s finished, her palm rests against my cheek. “I do,” she whispers.