For another minute or two, Susan Pantsuit talks about marriage being hard work. She says, in the future, we’ll need the support of our friends and family. Then she asks Sayla and Dex if they promise to support us on our nuptial journey, which is pretty sweet, actually.
They both agree, of course. Sayla’s eyes are even a little wet. She’s probably thinking about how much she loves Dex, and how important Bridger and I have been to their relationship.
How much the four of us mean to each other.
But I hardly need another reminder not to ruin the friendship.
Not just for my sake, but for all of us.
When Susan is ready to wrap things up, she pauses to beam at our little group. “And now, by the power vested in me by the state of North Carolina”—I hold my breath,this is it, no backing out now—“I declare that you two good people belong to each other. From now until forever.”
Forever.
My stomach seesaws.
“Bridger Adams?” She tips her head. “You may now kiss the?—”
“BEE!” Sayla shrieks, stumbling backward and knocking over the tripod.
Chapter Fifteen
Bridger
For the record, I never saw a bee.
Sayla swears a big yellowjacket flew out of a peony, stinger locked and loaded, just before she knocked over the tripod. But in all her flailing to escape, she somehow managed to catch her phone before the thing smashed to the ground.
Now, I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but I kind of feel like she might’ve manufactured the interruption. And if she did, she probably thought she was doing Loren and me a favor.
I know Sayla wasn’t a fan of Dex badgering us to kiss last night, and I’m guessing she thinks she got what she needed on film already. One quick picture, blurry or not. And a great kiss on video.
History’s best kiss.
And now, apparently, that might end up being our last kiss, too, considering Loren and I agreed to just one more on our wedding day. As the groom, I was prepared for a final shotat my bride’s perfect lips. The thing is, another kiss like the one Loren and I shared last night—as husband and wife—might’ve shredded what remains of my grip on reality. So I guess I owe Sayla for #beegate after all.
I didn’t thank her, though.
Instead, I paid Susan for officiating, we signed all the paperwork, then the four of us stuffed ourselves back into the limo.
“It’s time for stage two of Operation Fool Margaret,” Dex says, “but my napkin doesn’t have a plan for this part.” He nods at the glass partition. “So I told the driver to take us by Stony Peak. Hope that’s okay.”
“We figured the school totally works for pictures and videos,” Sayla adds. “You two met there, so it’s the perfect spot to continue the narrative.”
“Right.” I grunt. “All about the narrative.”
“That’s a great idea,” Loren says, directing her smile at Sayla and Dex. “Anyway, Stony Peak’s whereyou twofell in love.”
Actually, three of us fell in love at that school.
But I’ll never tell Loren that.
“Teachers for the win,” Dex says with a grin, pulling cold water bottles from the limo’s cooler. As he hands them out, condensation drips all over his suit, and Sayla reaches over to blot his wet pants with a paper towel.
“You’re such a mess,” she chuckles.
“Imagine how messy I’d be without you,” he says.
The moment is a golden opportunity to tease him. Dex definitely would if the situation were reversed. But I’m too busy being jealous of their sweet, easy domesticity.