: Chapter 18
“Laurel,” I say as she hops out of her car and runs up to me. With open arms, I pull her into a hug and embrace her tightly.
“Ahh, look at you.” She pulls away to give me a once-over. “You look all . . . groomy.”
I chuckle and glance down at my dress pants and tucked-in button-up shirt. “I try.”
She runs her hand over my cheek. “Didn’t shave, though.”
I shrug. “Aubree likes the scruff.”
She raises her brow at me. “Oh, have things progressed since we last spoke?”
I shake my head as I glance toward the car where a woman stands. She has long blond hair, a sleeve tattoo, and wears a maxi dress. She looks exactly like who I’d picture Laurel with. This girl has a type. “No, same old, same old. But that doesn’t seem to be the case with you. Care to introduce me?”
Smiling brightly, Laurel holds out her hand, and the woman by the car takes it. “Wyatt, this is Rhonda. Rhonda, meet Wyatt or . . . W.J. Preston as you know him.”
Rhonda takes a deep breath and holds out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wyatt. I’ve read nothing but great things from you and heard nothing but brotherly things from Laurel.”
Smiling, I lean forward and say, “Is she giving away stories about my personal life?”
“Very much so and I’ve loved every one of them.”
I point at Rhonda while I speak to Laurel. “I hope you made her sign an NDA.”
“In your dreams,” Laurel replies. “I think she might have an Instagram account dedicated to just you and your secrets.”
“I’m really here to capture content for it,” Rhonda jokes, making me like her already.
“You know, Rhonda. I think we might be really good friends.”
She nods. “I think so too.”
Laurel looks around, taking in the farmhouse and the guest house. “Where is the bride-to-be?”
“Getting ready.” I thumb toward the guest house.
Laurel leans in close. “How is she feeling? Does she seem nervous?”
I shake my head. “No, not at all. Really calm, actually.”
“That’s good.” Laurel takes my hand in hers. “And what about you?”
I can tell what she’s trying to hint at, and I tack on a smile for her. “Fine.”
“Are you sure?” she asks. “Because I know you, Wyatt, and it’s the night before your wedding. Given what happened last time, I can’t imagine you don’t have any concerns.”
“This isn’t for love,” I say as I glance at Rhonda.
“It’s okay,” Rhonda says seriously. “Laurel told me, and I’ve been sworn to secrecy. This stays off the IG account.”
I chuckle. “Thank you.” I turn back to Laurel and say, “There’s no chance of my heart breaking this time. It’s business. That’s all.”
“Really? Because that’s not what you made it seem like the other day when you said you liked Aubree.”
“I have a crush on her.” I shrug, trying to play it off like it’s nothing because if I think about it too much, I’ll start worrying, and I don’t want to worry. If I worry, Aubree will worry, and she’s skittish. I don’t want to give her any impression that I’m not fully in this.
“Yes, but it wasn’t long ago when your heart was broken.” Laurel squeezes my hand. “You never talk about what happened. You never talk about her. And honestly, I’m worried about you. I need to know that you have healed.” She takes a step forward. “I know this was all my idea, but I honestly didn’t think you would go through with it, and now that you are, I just . . . I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I say.
“Wyatt—”
“Laurel,” I say in a stern voice. “I said I’m fine. Okay?”
She sighs and takes a step back. “Okay.”
Feeling guilty, because I know her heart is in the right place, I pull her into a hug and whisper into her ear. “I’m better. I know Cadance wasn’t the one for me. I’m trying not to think about it because I don’t want to be nervous and make Aubree nervous. Just trying to chill. But thank you for worrying about me.”
That eases her mind because she hugs me back and then pulls away.
I glance over at Rhonda and say, “I’m sorry you had to hear my stern voice. Not something I’m proud of.”
“Oh yeah, I was really shivering over here.”
I let out a hearty laugh. “Yup, I think we’re going to be great friends.” Just then, I hear the guest house door shut, and I turn around to find Aubree standing at the door, her hands connected in front of her, looking so fucking gorgeous that my heart skips a beat.
She chose a simple light green dress for the evening with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a longer hemline. Her hair is half up and half down with her curls perfectly defined. Her subtle makeup makes her eyes pop, and those gorgeous lips are coated in a gloss, beckoning me to taste them again.
The past few days have been interesting between us, to say the least.
I’ve worked on the website. She’s worked around the farm.
I’ve helped bring in hay bales for the ceremony. She’s helped Maggie set up décor.
We decided on a brunch wedding instead because I told her I wanted to take her somewhere after, and I needed travel time. She easily agreed. Maggie was not happy about the change but went with it. That’s when we volunteered to help, and she accepted it.
At night, we haven’t said much, just slipped into bed where I held her.
No good night kisses.
No not-so-innocent caresses.
Nothing.
The last time I tasted her lips was when I showed her the website, and now, I’m practically drooling every time I see her, hoping for a spontaneous kiss when she’s grateful for something.
Maybe she’ll give me one tonight. Shyly, Aubree waves, and I walk over to her. When I reach her at the steps of the guest house, I take her hand in mine and whisper, “You look gorgeous, Aubree.”
Her cheeks pinken as she says, “Thank you.”
With her hand in mine, I bring her over to Laurel, and I say, “Aubree, this is my best friend Laurel and her girlfriend, Rhonda.”
“We haven’t really given each other titles yet,” Laurel says, but Rhonda steps in.
“She’s my girlfriend.”
Laurel smirks and shakes Aubree’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you. Wyatt has said a lot of great things about you and the not-so-great things, I ignored and didn’t believe.”
“Laurel,” I reprimand, which causes her to chuckle.
“It’s fine,” Aubree says. “I still say not-so-great things about him.”
“Wow,” I say. “Thanks a lot, babe.”
Laurel smirks as she looks back and forth between the two of us. “You guys are cute.”
“You think so?” I ask. “Not sure Aubree would say the same thing.”
“No, you’re cute. Annoying but cute.”
“That’s what I wanted his author bio to be,” Laurel says. “But he said he wanted to stay aloof with his readers, making them think that he’s a secret serial killer.”
Aubree eyes me. “Wyatt? A secret serial killer? I heard him scream when a bee chased him the other day.”
“Hey now,” I say as I nod toward Rhonda. “We have company over here. Can we act like it?”
Aubree chuckles. “How on earth did you deal with him for so long?”
Laurel shakes her head. “I think it’s a love-hate relationship. The annoyance is heavy, but the laughter outweighs it all.”
“Hmm, seems to be the spell he casts on everyone,” Aubree says as she looks up at me, and for a moment, a moment so small, it almost seems like she means that. Like I’ve cast a spell over her. If only. It would make these feelings I have for her so much easier to deal with.
“Hey,” Ryland calls from the farmhouse. “Mac wants to show you guys Chewy Charles’s bow tie. Can you converse in here?”
Chuckling, Aubree says, “Chewy Charles is Mac’s stuffed animal. He’s very important. If he licks you, it’s normal. If her fingers turn into spiders and crawl over you, also normal. There’s also Chewy Chonda. He’s the new horse Wyatt brought with him.”
“Okay, one question. Do I like the licking and the spiders?”
“Yes to the licking. Be scared of the spiders, but don’t try to hurt them.”
“Got it,” Laurel says while tapping the side of her head. “Did you hear that, Rhonda?”
“Loud and clear. Licking yes, spiders no.”
Chuckling, we all head up the stairs to the farmhouse and into the living room, where Mac sits on the couch with Chewy Charles next to her. Chewy Chonda, thankfully, is on the other side. Glad he’s still approved. A red bow tie has been fastened around Chewy Charles’s neck while Mac is wearing one of Ryland’s ties over a poofy white dress.
Dear God, if this is what it means to marry Aubree, then I’m all fucking in.
“I’M JUST GOING to help them to their car. I’ll meet you in the house,” I say to Aubree, who offers a wave to Laurel and Rhonda.
Dinner consisted of the regular gathering, but this time with Laurel, Rhonda, Maggie, and Brody. Of course, when Hayes arrived, Laurel tried to play it cool but lost it when she heard he’s been working on new music. She sat next to him and asked him pretty much every question under the sun about his career. She then proceeded to apologize but then kept asking him. Hayes was the chill guy he always is and answered every single one.
Instead of having one of us cook, I had By the Slice deliver pizza and then topped everything off with Aubree’s favorite ice cream sundae. I caught the smile on her lips when she saw me set up the fixings for dessert, and I didn’t miss the way her shoulder brushed up against mine when she dug into her sundae.
The entire night, she let me hold her hand and drape my arm over her shoulders. She even sat on my lap for a while. I took advantage and held her when I had the chance. I even kissed her head a few times, and even briefly on the lips in the kitchen only to be caught red-handed by Mac, who screamed “ew” and ran away.
It felt real.
It felt like we were a true family, coming together the night before a small wedding.
It felt like Aubree belonged to me, like she was prepared and ready to give herself over to me.
And it made me feel this deep, guttural possession every time I looked at her. Like my brain was screaming, “Mine. Mine.”
I have no right to claim her like that, but it didn’t stop me from internally creating a moat around her, making sure no one could get to her besides me.
“Did you have a good night?” Laurel asks as we walk over to her SUV.
“Great night,” I say.
“Seemed like it,” Laurel says and then turns to Rhonda. “Think you could give us one moment?”
“Not a problem.” Rhonda quickly gives me a hug and wishes me luck for tomorrow and then hops in the car.
I turn to Laurel and say, “Before you give me the concerned friend speech, I just want you to know that I like Rhonda a lot, and I approve.”
Laurel shyly smiles. “I like her a lot too. I’m glad you guys get along.”
“Now”—I fold my arms over my chest—“tell me about how you’re concerned for me.”
She tilts her head to the side. “I’m not concerned. I’m actually relieved.”
“Relieved?” I ask.
She nods. “Yes, because she likes you.”
My heart stutters in my chest. “What do you mean she likes me? Did she tell you that?”
“No, but I could see it. I know the difference between acting and when someone is truly infatuated with another person, and she’s infatuated with you. She didn’t leave your side all night. Any time you touched her, she leaned into it. And the way she’d look at you from across the room when you were apart, it was like she was hoping you’d find her again.”
“Stop, that’s not true.”
Laurel presses her hand to my forearm. “Do you really think I’d pump you up like this if I didn’t think it was real?”
“No,” I answer.
“Exactly. There’s something there, Wyatt. I think after the wedding, you talk about it. Get this over with first, and then approach the subject of dating your wife.”
I chuckle and push my hand through my hair. “Shit, this is so backward.”
“It is, but I kind of like it. But I want to make sure you’re ready for a relationship. You were with Cadance for a long time.”
“I was with the wrong person for a long time,” I say.
“And you’ve hesitated to talk to Aubree about how you feel. Is it because you’re unsure of how she’d react, or you’re not ready? If it’s the latter, do not let her know how you feel. You have to be ready for her. She’s been hurt and damaged, so if you can’t be the man she needs, don’t say anything.”
“I’d never hurt her,” I say. “She’s been hurt too much. I won’t be the one who does that to her.”
“Good, then weigh your options. If you’re ready to open your heart again, go for it. But if you don’t think you can risk it, please . . . please don’t pursue her, okay?”
I nod. “I understand what you’re saying, Laurel.”
“Good.” She pats my chest. “Now, I’ll see you early in the morning. You’re coming to the inn?”
“Yup, I’ll bring coffee and muffins.”
She pats my cheek. “That’s a good boy.”
She hugs me, and I help her into her car, then wave at Rhonda one more time before shutting the door and heading back to the guest house. When I step in, I notice right away that Aubree is in the bathroom, so I switch out of my clothes and slip on a new pair of boxer briefs just as she opens the door and walks out in one of her large Almond Store T-shirts. The more she wears them, the more they turn me on.
“Everything okay with Laurel?” she asks.
“Yup. She’s great.” I move past Aubree, dragging my hand over her stomach as we squeeze by each other, and head into the bathroom, where I take care of business, wash my face, and brush my teeth.
Once done, I turn off the light and check the locks as Aubree slips into bed. When I feel comfortable that everything is secure, I slip into bed with her and turn toward her, immediately placing my hand on her stomach to roll her toward me.
“Hey,” I say as her makeup-free face stares back at me.
“Hey,” she says, curling into the pillow.
“You good?”
She nods. “I’m good.”
“Because if you weren’t, you could tell me.”
“No, I’m good.”
“I know tomorrow is kind of weird and maybe a little scary, so if you want to back out—”
“I’m not backing out,” she says, her eyes fixed on mine. “I’m in, Wyatt. I told you that.”
“You did, but I just want to be sure. You have an out. I’m giving you one.”
“I don’t want an out,” she says. “We’re getting married tomorrow. That’s happening. I’m not nervous, I’m not scared, and I’m not changing my mind. You asked me to marry you, and I said yes, so we’re getting married.”
And fuck does that hit me hard. It was the same thing with Cadance, only with a different result. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes, but in the end, she didn’t show up.
She didn’t show up for me.
And Aubree, who has been nothing but annoyed by me, pressured by me, somewhat blackmailed by me, she’s showing up. She’s here for me. We’re in this together, and fuck does it break something inside me.
I roll to my back and stare up at the ceiling, my breath growing heavy.
“Wyatt,” Aubree says as she lifts up to look at me. “Are you okay?”
This heavy weight seems to secure itself on my chest as my worlds start to collide. It’s like I buried it away for so fucking long, and now that I’m here, with a woman guaranteeing me that she will marry me tomorrow—even though she doesn’t love me—I’m reminded how I felt when Cadance didn’t show up.
I never fully worked out those feelings.
I stuffed them away and let something else take over my mind. That something being the cabin. Then Aubree. Making her happy and content. Do I just keep focusing on other things and not dealing with my grief?
“Hey,” Aubree says as her hand falls to my chest. “Is it something I said? Because I’m sorry—”
I shake my head. “No, it’s nothing you said,” I say while blowing out a heavy breath and dragging my hands over my chest.
“Are you sure?” she asks. “If you brought this up because you want an out, then that’s fine, Wyatt. Just know that I won’t take the land for free.”
I’m silent for a second, trying to calm myself. This is exactly why I don’t talk about Cadance.
Because I was fine.
I wasn’t even thinking about her. I don’t even love her anymore. I’m not sure I ever truly loved her like I should have. Maybe she did us both a favor, but it doesn’t neglect the panic I feel right now on the night before my wedding. The realization that this could happen again, my heart could be tampered with again.
“Wyatt,” Aubree says soothingly as her hand slowly rubs against my chest, “is that what you want? You want an out?” When I don’t answer right away—because I’m still trying to calm myself—she starts to pull away, shifting her warmth off me. And that’s when I snap out of it and grab her hand to prevent her from moving away from me.
When our eyes connect, I say, “You’ll become Mrs. Preston tomorrow, have no doubt about that.”
“Okay,” she says. I catch her throat contract when she swallows. But the wary look in her eyes knocks me in the stomach, and I realize how much I probably just worried her, so I prop myself up on my elbow to look her in the eyes.
“You did nothing, Aubree. If anything, you did everything, and I just think it hit me all at once what you’re actually doing for me.” Yes, it’s a deliberate lie, but the last thing I want to do is freak her out about Cadance and my concerns. “Guilt is a consuming thing.”
She wets her lips. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” I say as I gently shift her onto her back and move in close. I cup her cheek gently and stroke her face with my thumb, staring into her beautiful eyes. “Everything is fine as long as everything is okay with you.”
“I’m fine,” she answers. “I want to do this tomorrow.”
“Promise?” I ask her.
She nods. “Promise.”
And because insecurity rushes through me, I say, “Can we also promise something else? That no matter where this adventure leads us, we don’t let anything come between us? We’re only good together as a unit. The minute we part is the minute this unravels.”
“Are you afraid I’m going to mess this up?”
“No,” I answer. “But this is a year of commitment. When it’s over, I want to make sure we’re still each other’s number-one fans. We need to promise to treat this like a marriage. We talk things through, we work through any issue, and we never go to bed angry with each other. Can you promise me that?”
“Yes,” she answers, sounding slightly breathless.
“Good,” I reply. I run my thumb over her cheek a few more times and then say, “Thank you, Aubree. I don’t think you’ll ever know how much this means to me.”
“It means just as much to me,” she replies.
“I know,” I answer and then stroke her cheek a few more times. “Okay, I should let us get to bed.”
Her hand lands on my chest before she says, “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Positive, babe,” I answer as I lean down and press a very soft kiss to her lips. When I lift, I catch her eyes fluttering open, and for a very small second, as she stares up at me, I almost believe that Laurel was right and Aubree has feelings for me. But I can’t focus on that now.
I need to focus on Aubree showing up and saying I do. Once she’s officially Mrs. Preston, I can focus on my feelings . . . and possibly hers.
WYATT: How are you feeling?
Aubree: Good. You?
Wyatt: Great. Laurel just fixed my tie, said it was crooked. Did you get the flowers and muffins?
Aubree: I did. I nervously ate two.
Wyatt: Are you really nervous?
Aubree: I think anyone in this position would be nervous. You have to be a little jittery.
Wyatt: Solid as a rock, babe.
Aubree: I don’t believe you.
Wyatt: LOL. Okay, maybe my ass keeps clenching, but that’s neither here nor there.
Aubree: What every bride wants to hear about their groom before they walk down the aisle—that their groom has been clenching their ass all morning.
Wyatt: Here to serve. Hey, sorry I bolted out of the guest house this morning. I forgot to set my alarm and told Laurel I’d be at her hotel bright and early.
Aubree: It’s fine.
Wyatt: I wanted to make sure you slept well and everything. With all the commotion, I’m finally getting the chance.
Aubree: I always sleep well when you hold me.
Wyatt: Mrs. Preston, that almost sounds like you can tolerate me.
Aubree: Don’t push it.
Wyatt: LOL. Are you ready for this?
Aubree: Ready as I’ll ever be. Currently, Chewy Charles is licking my leg. Mac taped sandpaper to his mouth so it felt like a cat’s tongue. Not sure what’s going on there, but it’s distracted me.
Wyatt: Is it weird that I want Chewy Charles to lick me now so I can know how it feels?
Aubree: Yes.
Wyatt: Dammit. How’re Ryland and Hattie?
Aubree: Hattie keeps tearing up, especially when she helped me into Cassidy’s dress. And Ryland, well, he’s just casually observing. Hasn’t said much other than to ask me if you were going to make me happy.
Wyatt: What did you say?
Aubree: I said the most happy, because you were giving me land for my hand.
Wyatt: And don’t you forget it . . . wench.
Aubree: Wench?
Wyatt: Trying something new. Did it fall flat?
Aubree: Very.
Wyatt: Noted. I’ll stick with babe. Oh, Laurel is beckoning me. Time to head to the farm. See you down the aisle, babe.
Aubree: See you down the aisle . . . ass clencher.
Wyatt: **Clutches heart** You woo me with your romance.
I SHIFT on my feet as Mac makes her way down the aisle in a poofy white dress with Chewy Charles tucked under her arm. She chucks—yes, chucks, not tosses—flower petals at the people lining the aisleway, sitting on hay bales. Ryland, from the side, tries to “dance mom” her—aka, show her what to do—but she completely ignores him as Hayes nails an instrumental version of one of his songs. Don’t ask me the title. I can’t freaking think of it at the moment because Aubree appears at the end of the aisle, Hattie joining her on one side and Ryland on the other.
My heart stutters in my chest as I take in my bride.
Her simple white dress frames her torso but flares at her hips. The long sleeves hang off her shoulders, showing off her long, elegant neck. Her hair is loosely pulled back with a few curly tendrils framing her face while a cute crown of flowers sits on the top of her head.
She’s . . . fuck, she’s easily the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and she’s walking toward me, ready to commit to me. Ready to be mine.
And I swear to myself, at this moment, as her eyes stay fixed on mine, I will never do anything to hurt her. I will protect this woman with everything I have in me. She’s my responsibility now, and I’ll be damned if anything happens to her.
Hayes wraps up the music just as Aubree reaches me. I offer Ryland a handshake and Hattie a hug before I take Aubree’s hand in mine. Leaning in close, I whisper so only she can hear me. “You look so beautiful, Aubree. You . . . you took my breath away.”
When I pull away, her eyes smile up at me as we turn toward Ethel, our officiant. It was a requirement, as was the locomotive parked off to the side that we could take pictures on. The people on the hay bales, mainly proprietors around town, are people Ethel found worthy enough to be here, as well as Brody, Maggie, Abel, and Echo.
The barn is decked out in mums, spanning from cranberry to orange to yellow. The tractor has been pulled to the front of the opening and decorated in mums as well as hay bales, offering a pretty backdrop for pictures. There are bulbed lights strung throughout, which doesn’t make much sense to me because it’s a morning wedding, but I wasn’t going to argue with Maggie. The town really came together to make this wedding happen, which is a testament to the Rowleys and the way they’ve impacted this community. I know I joke about winning Almond Bay over with my charm, but I’m not the reason all these people are here. Aubree is.
They want to see her happiness.
I don’t blame them.
I want to see it too.
I don’t pay much attention to what Ethel says because I’m mainly fixated on Aubree and the way she keeps looking up at me. How there is a slight tremor in her hand, and how even though she’s strong as hell, meeting me up here at the end of this aisle, I know deep down, she’s scared.
That’s why I squeeze her hand tight.
It’s why I look her in the eyes when I say our vows.
It’s why when I place her ring on her finger, I make it clear that this is a promise I never plan on breaking.
And when Ethel announces us as husband and wife, I step in close to her, grip the back of her head, and seal that promise with a kiss. A kiss that garners a loud cheer from the attendees.
When I pull away, she smiles up at me, and then together, we walk down the aisle, hand in hand as Mr. and Mrs. Preston.
“OH MY GOD,” Aubree whispers to me as we finally have a moment to ourselves.
Pictures took about an hour, which felt weird, given the circumstances, then we were ushered into our first dance, where Hayes played music for us and Ethel sang. I swayed back and forth with Aubree in my arms, watching her look around and attempt to smile at everyone taking pictures.
In all honesty, she’s been a big trooper through all of this.
“I think this is the first second I’ve had to breathe,” she says as she dips her fork into her mac and cheese.
“Kind of a whirlwind for a second, huh?” I ask as my chair is pulled up right next to hers, and my hand rests on her thigh.
“More like a tornado.” She looks around the tables of people all enjoying their food. “I can’t believe it actually happened. That we’re actually married.”
“Tell me about it.” I hold up my hand and stare down at my black tungsten ring. “Feels like I was always meant to be your husband.” She gives me a get real look, which makes me laugh. “Are you saying you don’t feel that way, Mrs. Preston?”
“Let’s not kill the mood with how I feel.”
“Already looking into divorce lawyers? At least save it for after the honeymoon.”
“We aren’t going on a honeymoon.”
“So you think,” I say. “I moved the time of this wedding for a reason.” I look down at my watch and say, “Actually, you’re going to need to speed it up on that mac and cheese if we’re going to make our flight.”
“Our flight?” she asks, looking stunned.
“Yeah, babe. Did you really think we were going to get married and not fly off somewhere?”
She leans in close and whispers, “What the hell are we going to do on a honeymoon?”
I wiggle my eyebrows, and she places her hand on my face to stop me. With her hand on my face, I say, “So does that mean boning is out of the question?”
“Oh my God, do not call it that.”
I laugh as she removes her hand. “Seriously, though, I’m taking you somewhere . . . oh, which reminds me.” I pull my phone from my pocket, and I turn on the camera. I lace my arm around Aubree, and I say, “Hold up your ring and smile for the camera.”
I take a picture of us both, and then I shoot it off to Wallace with the text, newlyweds.
“Did you send that to your cousin?”
“Yup,” I say. “And let the drama begin.”
“ARE you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” Aubree asks as she looks out the rental car window at the large ponderosa pines.
“Look to the right, up ahead,” I say as a wooden sign comes into view.
I catch her reading it. “Welcome to the town of Canoodle, where’s . . .” She pauses. “Oh my God, are you taking me to your cabin?”
“Yup,” I say with a grin. “My grandpa’s neighbor, who watches over the cabin, has prepared it for us. I told him I was bringing my new wife, Aubree, and said we were spending time together in the cabin. He was more than happy to change out the sheets and have the cleaning service run through it.”
“Seriously?” she asks. “That’s . . . that’s really sweet, Wyatt. I’m excited to see it.”
“I’m excited for you to see it,” I say as I feel the temptation to take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles, but I refrain. Technically, we’re not in front of anyone, so why would I do that?
“So this is Canoodle, huh?” she asks. “I wish I was seeing it in the light.”
“I’ll show you around tomorrow,” I say as I follow the road that curves around the lake. “There are some cute shops here as well as great places to eat. The lake is beautiful to walk around, and of course the cabin property is as peaceful as it gets.”
“I can’t really tell in the dark, but the trees seem tall.”
“Very,” I answer as I turn down Pine Lane. “And also in the morning, you’ll see the beautiful mountains framed by giant boulders.”
“I’ve never been too far from Almond Bay, so this is exciting,” she says as she stares out the window.
“Really?” I ask, but then give it some thought. If her dad wouldn’t even tell her she was beautiful, what makes me think he’d take her anywhere other than where they live? “Sorry, that was an insensitive question.”
“It’s fine,” she says with a shrug. “At least that wasn’t my first time on a plane. My first time was when Cassidy and I flew to San Diego for a weekend. She got these really cheap tickets, and we decided to make a weekend of it. First time on a plane for both of us. We held on to each other for dear life. But I will say this, we didn’t have first class seats, that’s for certain.”
“Well, I’m glad I could offer you a new experience.”
“Thank you,” she says sweetly, the same voice she’s used all day. At first, I thought she was putting on a show for everyone, but once we left the farm and headed into San Francisco to catch our flight, and her tone stayed the same, I wondered if it was because her stress levels had lowered.
Either way, I like it.
I especially like it when she teases me while using that voice.
I make a left to head down a dirt road toward the cabin and say, “Heads-up, the cabin is an old A-frame. It still has its original wood paneling, with the only update being the bathroom. I plan to make a few adjustments here and there, but I want to preserve the old cabin feel as much as possible.”
“I’m sure it’s perfect,” she says just as I make another left and then pull into the short driveway of the cabin.
“There it is,” I say, happy that the outside light was left on.
“Oh, it’s so cute,” she says as I put the rental car in park and turn it off.
We both step out of the car, and I retrieve our luggage from the trunk as she takes it all in.
Crickets sound off in the distance as the silence of the forest envelops us. The smell of fresh pine fills the air, as well as a dewy mist, indicating the night is upon us. Through the leaves and branches of the trees, the glittering stars shine down upon us, and even though there are neighbors, they are nowhere in sight, offering complete privacy.
“Wow, it’s dark here and quiet.”
“Just what an author loves,” I say as I walk up to her with our luggage. “Go on, the key is under the welcome mat.”
“Doesn’t seem very safe,” she says.
“No one is doing anything illegal here in Canoodle. Trust me, the town is like Almond Bay, one big family.”
“Says the guy who checks the locks every night because he peed his pants.”
“Hey now.” I point at her. “That was told in confidence. I don’t expect you to throw it back in my face.”
She chuckles. “Never should have told me.”
She grabs the key from under the mat and unlocks the door. The kitchen light was left on as well, so we aren’t fumbling around as we enter.
The first thing I notice is the smell of the wood all over the cabin.
The second thing is a note saying congratulations.
The third thing . . . just how right this feels.
How homey.
“Fuck,” I mutter as I take in the open-concept cabin with a wood-burning fireplace in the corner, worn-out furniture in the living room, and a kitchen sink with a red-and-white-checkered curtain underneath it to block the view of the pipes.
“What’s wrong?” Aubree asks.
“Nothing.” I drag my hand over my face. “I can’t believe it’s going to be mine.” I turn toward her and say, “You did this. You helped make this happen. Thank you so much, Aubree.”
Her cheeks flush as she says, “I’ll be saying the same thing to you when I own the deed to the rest of the farm. It worked out. Did Wallace ever text you back?”
I shake my head. “No, but I’m sure he’s trying to figure out what happened.”
“Did you talk to your parents?”
“Yeah, I called them while you were packing. They want to meet you. Said they were happy for us, but definitely want to meet you. I told them we can arrange for that after we get back to Almond Bay. But I did mention the cabin, and they said they’d contact the family lawyer in the morning. They’ll need a copy of the wedding certificate, but once we turn that in, it’s all mine.” They asked many more questions like how did I find, date, and marry a new woman in such a short space of time. But Aubree doesn’t need to know about that.
She softly smiles. “I’m happy for you, Wyatt. I know how much this means to you.” She looks around the space. “And I can see why. It’s very homey, feels like a place where many memories are made.” She places her hand over her mouth and lets out a large yawn. “Gosh, sorry.”
“It’s fine. You must be exhausted. After the day’s excitement combined with the nerves and the long travel, I’m sure you’re ready for bed.”
“Yeah, I am,” she says.
With both bags in hand, I nod toward the stairs. “Bedrooms are that way.”
She follows the way to the stairs and starts to climb them but turns around. “Do you need me to take my bag?”
“Uh, no,” I say, which makes her laugh. “I can handle it.”
“I know you can handle it, but I didn’t want you to think I’m using you as my mule.”
“I’m your husband, you are my wife, and I’ll treat you as such. I’ll take care of the bags.”
“Okay.” She smirks and heads up the stairs.
After the wedding, she changed into a pair of leggings and a crop top with a long-sleeved flannel shirt. She looked all kinds of cute, and now that I’m getting a great view of her ass in those leggings, I’m appreciating the outfit change. Not that she didn’t look stunning in Cassidy’s wedding dress because she did. But I like Aubree casual and comfortable like this. I think it’s when her best self shows.
When we reach the top of the stairs, she looks between the two bedrooms across from each other with a bathroom between.
Now, if it were up to me, I’d plop both of our bags in the bedroom on the right and call it a night. She’s my wife, so she’s sleeping with me. But given this is the first time we’re offered multiple beds, I don’t want to assume she’ll sleep with me. So even though it’s painful, I ask, “What bedroom do you want to take?”
“Oh,” she says, looking between the two. “You can have the big bed. I’ll take the bunks.”
Of course she’d say that.
“Are you sure?” I ask. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep with me? Share a room? Let me hold you while you fall asleep?
“Yeah, I’m much smaller than you.” She takes her bag from me and moves into the bunk room while I mentally curse myself out for even giving her the option. There should never have been an option. Fucking idiot.
“Do you want to use the bathroom first?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “You’re faster than me. You can use it first.”
“Okay,” I answer as I bring my bag into my room, but before I set it down, I look over my shoulder and ask, “Are you sure about the bunk beds?”
She smiles back at me. “Positive.” And then she starts unpacking.
Yup, you’re a fucking moron, Wyatt.