“I think—” She grunted as the heel bent again. Her ankle twisted with it, and she went back down to the bed. “Shoot.”
Daddy started to bend to retrieve the shoe, but Beth said, “Leave it, Daddy. We’re not going to fix it.”
Someone knocked on the door, a light rap that belonged to a woman. “Beth?” Sally poked her head into the room. “Is everything okay?”
“Her shoe is broken.”
“It’s okay,” Beth said, slipping her left foot out of the shoe that wasn’t broken. “I’m just not going to wear shoes.”
“Maybe I can—”
“It’s fine,” Beth said, interrupting Sally as she came toward her. “I’m late, and it’s just a shoe.” She hoped it wasn’t a sign of what her marriage with Trey would be like. Brittle. Fragile. Breakable.
She smiled brightly at Sally. “Go sit, Sally. We’ll be right behind you.”
Her sister nodded and left the room again. Beth turned toward her son, who wore a pair of black slacks, a white shirt, and a tie the color of the deepest, reddest roses. Beth loved that dark, dark red that was almost black, and she’d chosen it for this wedding.
She and Danny had been married in the winter, and everything had been silver, blue, and white. She didn’t like any of those colors all that much, and this autumn wedding was more her style.
She’d even put pumpkins on the deck as part of the décor. Julie Chappell had probably gasped and removed them all by now.
Daddy stepped to her side and linked his arm through hers. “Ready, sugarbaby?”
“Ready.” She reached for TJ’s hand. “Right here, bud. Right by me.”
He did what she said, and the three of them left the bedroom and journeyed down the hall and through the living room. The back door loomed, and Beth’s pulse pounded against the neckline of her dress.
“Are we going out?” Daddy asked, and Beth realized she’d slowed to a stop.
She took a deep breath and thought about all she and Trey had already been through. “Yes,” she said, taking another step. Then another.
With enough of them strung together, she exited the house, turned toward the aisle, and started down it.
Trey stood only ten paces away, his eyes bright beneath the brim of his hat. He stole her breath and calmed her heartbeat at the same time, and Beth smiled at him, her gaze refusing to go anywhere else.
His return smile made him doubly delicious, and before Beth knew it, she’d reached the altar. “Love you, baby doll,” her father said, and she kissed both of his cheeks before she bent down and touched the tip of her nose to her son’s.
“I love you, TJ,” she said. “You want to give Trey a hug?”
“Can I?”
“He’d probably like it.” Beth straightened and watched her son turn to Trey. He didn’t just hug her son; he scooped the child into his arms, his smile as wide as the Mississippi River now. TJ took his face in both of his hands, and the brim of Trey’s hat nearly covered both of their heads.
He set him down and TJ went to sit with Kait and Hugh.
Trey focused on her, his eyes sliding down to her feet. “Shoe trouble?” His voice could barely be heard, and Beth lifted one of her bare feet.
“I think they’re pretty cute.”
He grinned at her and offered his arm to her. “You look amazing,” he said. “I love this dress.” His eyes sparkled with desire, and Beth felt it popping through her whole body too.
“You look pretty great too.”
“I’ll take pretty great,” he said. “This bowtie is cutting off my circulation.”
“Are we ready?” the pastor asked, and Beth remembered they weren’t meeting just to chat.
Trey faced him and nodded; Beth did too. Pastor Adams began speaking, and not two seconds later, Trey reached into his far pocket and took out his phone, bending his head to look at it.