I should have listened when everybody told me not to do this, but my gut told me to go for it and never look back. My gut told me she’d fucking love it and here we are too damn late to back out now.
All the guests are here at Broken Hill lake, waiting to see the blushing bride walking down the aisle and I can’t guarantee them that she’ll come. Hell, if she does come, I certainly can’t guarantee that she’ll be blushing. Furious, scorned, and pissed off? Now, that I can guarantee.
“Would you calm the fuck down?” Jesse grumbles beside me, nudging me with his elbow as we stand at the top of the aisle, waiting for the limousine to pull up and get the show on the road. “She’s going to show up.”
I shake my head. “She’s not. I should have listened to you fuckers. She’s going to be freaking out. It’s her fucking wedding day for Christ sake and she didn’t get to pick out her own fucking flowers. What if I chose the wrong ones? What if the dress doesn’t fit her right? She’s going to kill me for this.”
“Dude,” Jesse grunts, cutting me off.
“Fuck. I should go call her, make sure she’s alright.”
“The hell you are,” Jesse demands, growling low beside me for only me to hear while still managing to look like the carefree bad boy he always makes himself out to be. “You’re going to straighten your fucking tie, you’re going to stop shitting your pants, and you’re going to show all these people that you deserve to call yourself Tora’s husband. Man the fuck up and own it. She’s going to show up, she’s going to marry you, and then she’s going to murder you in your sleep, but it will be in private at the end of the night.”
I press my lips together, not wanting to take in his words, but as he smiles sweetly to the guests while ramming his elbow hard into my kidney, I snap out of it.
I’m getting married today.
This is what I’ve been waiting for. What we’ve both been waiting for, for so damn long. There’s no way she’ll leave me here. She’ll definitely show up late just to make me sweat and she’ll have my balls for throwing this on her, but no way would she not show up and marry me.
We’re solid.
“Have you got the rings?” I ask him while that smug grin of his begins to grate on my nerves.
Offense flashes across his face as he looks back at me. Jess brings his hand up over his chest, feeling the rings within the breast pocket of his suit jacket. His eyes widen a fraction before he rights himself. “Everything is under control,” he tells me in a too calm tone. “Chill the fuck out.”
Not a second later, Jesse turns towards Maxen in a pure panic before bolting up the aisle and calling over his shoulder. “I left the fucking rings at home.”
I shake my head. I mean, beating the crap out of him isn’t exactly going to help me now. He’s my little brother and I know without a doubt that come the beginning of the ceremony, he’ll be standing right by my side with the rings safely in his pocket. Though, I might give them to mom to hold. I knew the second I made him my best man, I was going to regret it, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I stand at the top of the aisle and the rumble of the guests’ laughter has me looking out towards them as they watch Jesse bolt in the opposite direction and fly into his car. It’s incredible how quickly all these people have come together to celebrate our wedding. It’s even more incredible how they all made themselves available on such short notice. I left the invites until as late as possible fearing that someone would slip up and ruin the surprise for Tora.
Brooke nearly killed me when I first told her, but it didn’t take long for her to get on board. Both Brooke and Tora’s mom were so helpful with bringing everything together. There’s no fucking way I could have done it on my own. I mean, who even knew there was such thing as a bonbonniere?
My boys stand beside me in their matching suits, looking like a bunch of idiots. I mean, they look fucking good if I really have to admit it. Who would have guessed that Puck could scrub up so well? The only issue is that whenever they get dressed up in matching suits, they think their next level, James Bond. They think their shit don’t stink and become the cocky assholes from high school, and for some reason, their wives or fiancées can’t fucking resist them.