I saw the officiant approach and pointed out to Madoc, “You’re my brother, too. I can’t choose between either of you any more than Tate could choose between Fallon and Juliet.”

When we’d had to tell the officiant the names of my best man and her maid—or matron of honor, we didn’t second-guess ourselves. Fallon and Juliet for her, Jax and Madoc for me.

“You know we could’ve just had this at my house,” he suggested. “There’s plenty of room on the grounds, and you wouldn’t have had to limit the guest list.”

“We limited it out of preference,” I corrected him, “not necessity. Tate and I wanted small and private,” I told him, knowing he preferred big and flashy. “And we wanted it here,” I added.

“Okay.” He dropped the subject, accepting my reasoning. And I knew he understood.

Although Madoc had had an impromptu wedding at a bar, I don’t think he regretted it for a second. He loved Fallon, and they had just wanted to get married. The rest didn’t matter.

Tate and I waited a little longer than he and Fallon did, but not by much.

We’d spent the rest of the summer between Shelburne Falls—relaxing with our friends and enjoying our family—and California, looking for an apartment near Stanford and spending time at my shop.

Once school started, Tate got settled in as I commuted home to her as much as possible. The wedding date and details here were already set, so all we had to do was fly in and then fly out.

For Christmas, we were spending a week here with family and then a week locked in a cabin in Colorado for a delayed honeymoon. Tate had it in her head that we’d ski.

Yeah, no.

Just the thought of her walking around a cozy cabin dressed in nothing but a long sweater that showed off her beautiful legs in the firelight . . .

I might ski. If she was really nice.

After the ceremony today, we were having a small, private dinner and then going home to our house; we were already having fun planning what to renovate whenever we were able to make it home in the future.

“You didn’t invite a shitload of people to your house for a party tonight, did you?” I shot Madoc a knowing look. He loved parties and looked for any excuse to have one.

But he looked insulted. “Of course not,” he answered and then jerked his chin, standing up straight. “Here we go, dude.”

I turned my head, hearing the music start, and suddenly my pulse starting raging—pumping like a machine gun under my skin—and I focused on the path next to the rocks. Where I knew she was coming from.

Four cello players sat above us on a rock landing, playing Apocalyptica’s rendition of “Nothing Else Matters,” and everything hurt as I looked around. In a good way, I guess. I just wanted to see her so badly.

Juliet came first, dressed in a light pink, knee-length dress, her hair spilling around her, and I heard my brother’s sharp intake of breath. Her small baby bump was visible under her high-waisted dress, but she looked great, having gotten over the morning sickness.

Fallon trailed behind her in a gray dress similar to Juliet’s, her hair in long curls, and I caught her wink at Madoc before coming to stand next to Juliet on the other side of the officiant.

I darted my eyes over to the rocks again, keeping them glued there. I hadn’t seen Tate in more than twenty-four hours because our friends had decided that keeping us separate would make the wedding day more special. But I couldn’t wait anymore.

I’d waited for years.

She appeared, arm in arm with her dad, and I smiled, locking eyes with her.

“She’s beautiful,” I heard Madoc say.

I blew out a slow breath, feeling my eyes burn as my throat tightened.

I blinked away the tears and clenched my jaw, trying everything to keep myself steady.

“Just look at her, okay?” Jax whispered. “Hold her eyes, and you’ll be fine.”

I swallowed the needles in my throat and looked up at her again, seeing the joy and peace all over her face.

Why did I feel like I was in pain?

She’d never looked more beautiful.

Her strapless dress had a sweetheart neckline—don’t ask how I knew that shit now—that featured glimmering jewels on the bodice that brought out the glow in the smooth skin of her neck and arms. The bottom of the antique white dress was tulle that held layer upon layer all the way to the ground, and even though the dress was beautiful, I didn’t care about every little feature. All I knew was that she broke my heart looking like a dream that was all mine.

Her hair hung perfect in loose curls, and she wore light makeup enhancing every bit of her. Looking down, I saw white Chucks peek out of the dress as she walked, and I couldn’t help but laugh to myself.

She stepped up, not taking her eyes off of me as her dad kissed her cheek and handed her over.

I knew it wasn’t a politically correct practice anymore—fathers handing responsibility for a daughter’s care over to a man—but it meant something to me.

And I never doubted that she’d take care of me just as much as I did her.

I clasped her hand in mine and felt James’s hand grip my arm reassuringly before he stepped aside.

I looked up at the officiant, nodding at him to get going.

“Can you hurry up?” I urged, hearing Madoc and Jax laugh at my side.

I didn’t mean to be rude, but Tate was like a meal I was being forced to stare at as I starved.

The dude smiled and opened his folder to begin.