The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(107)

I watched his handsome face for a moment before Elizabeth reentered the room.

She set my tea down on the coffee table. Her eyes sparkled. “Ready for tomorrow?”

I nodded and swallowed. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“It doesn’t seem like a big deal. Is that…” I chewed my lip. “Bad?”

She laughed. “No, honey. It’s not bad. It means you’re already there.”

I glanced at Wyatt again, already asleep, breathing softly, and my heart panged. A couple months ago, I almost blew everything up because I was scared.

I loved this guy so much. More than anything. I was so glad I made the right decision.

Elizabeth and I chatted for a few minutes, catching up on town events and our trip before she stood.

“Well, I’m going to get going.” She walked her mug over to the dishwasher. “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

While Wyatt was napping, I dropped into the bookshop to say hello to Liya and Casey.

“Yes, that one is very popular.” My dad studied the titles on the shelf, tilting his head to read them before he pulled another down and handed it to the customer. “This one has the ‘only one bed’ trope as well.” He noticed me standing at the door and his face lit up. “Honey, you’re back.”

“You’re home!” Liya rushed over and wrapped me in a big hug. My dad was next. Casey rang the customer through behind them.

“Only one bed?” I asked my dad, a smile still glued to my face.

He nodded. “Liya and Casey have been educating me.” He leaned on the front desk and adjusted his glasses. “There’s a lot to learn about the romance world. Veena and I have been reading through the store.”

After sufficient groveling, my dad had convinced Veena to move in with him. I spoke with them both on FaceTime once a week, discussing books, the trips they took around the island, and the veggies they grew in the back yard. The changes they were making to the house.

They were good together, my dad and Veena, and they were happy.

The bell on the door rang and two teenage girls entered the store.

“This is so cool!” one of them said before heading to the hanging chair.

“Do you have any rom-coms with two girls?” the other asked my dad.

“Yes, that would be in our queer romance section.” He hustled off and she followed. “Do you want enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, or grumpy sunshine?” His voice traveled through the shelves. “This one is popular. Very funny.”

From the blue squashy chair, I watched with a smile as my dad hustled around the store, helping people find stories. The photo of my mom and I that Wyatt had given me for my birthday hung on the wall behind the desk. Pride shone from her eyes as she beamed at me. My heart tugged and I knew somewhere in the universe, she was looking at me with the same expression.





“Hannah, I love you, but I need to know something,” Avery called the next morning from my kitchen. I was in the bedroom, changing. Through the windows, the sun began to rise, and golds, pinks, and oranges painted the sky like something in an art gallery. I stared out at the ocean and thought about all the times Wyatt and I floated out there, talking and staring at the sky, falling in love.

“What’s that?” I called back, zipping up my dress.

“Do you fucking hate me or something?”

I laughed and walked out, down the hall, and into the kitchen. Avery rested her forehead on the bar counter. Working in a restaurant, she got home late and didn’t handle sunrise wake-ups very well. She wore a maroon dress that cinched at the waist with embroidered flowers on it.

“I appreciate you being here.”

Her head whipped up and her breath caught at the sight of me. “Oh, Hannah.” Her throat worked and she gave me a watery smile. “You look so beautiful.”

I glanced down at the floor-length white dress. The sleeves flared and the fabric draped perfectly over my body. I skimmed my palm over the delicate lace.

“I’m so glad you chose the boho style,” Avery breathed, shaking her head. “It’s not what I would have expected for you but it turned out to be perfect.”

I smiled. “Like Wyatt.”

She nodded. “Yeah, Han. Like Wyatt.” She reached for my bouquet on the table, a small collection of soft pinks and deep reds and greens from the Queen’s Cove area the florist had put together yesterday. “Ready?”

I took the bouquet from her, running my fingers along the pearl pins on the handle. “Ready.”

We made our way to the beach and left our shoes at the edge of the sand. They waited for us closer to the water—Elizabeth, Sam, Holden, Finn, Emmett, my dad, Veena, and in the center of them all, Wyatt.

I nearly laughed in surprise at the sight of him in a suit. My Wyatt in a gray suit. It fit his tall, slim form perfectly, and the bright white of the shirt made his tan even deeper. The gray fabric made his hair blonder. He watched me approach, gaze never leaving mine, and I had the sensation he was trying very hard to memorize this moment, like I was.

When I got close enough to the group, they quieted down and he stepped out and wrapped me in a hug.

“Good morning, bookworm.” His voice was soft in my hair.