The Resurrection of Wildflowers (Wildflower #2)(76)
CHAPTER 47
SALEM
I wake the next morning, smiling at the sleeping man at my side. He’s on his stomach, his arms curled around the pillow beneath his head. The sheet barely covers his body and I take him in hungrily.
He starts to stir, feeling me staring at him.
He slowly blinks his eyes open. “What time is it?” he asks, stifling a yawn.
I sit up, looking at the clock on his side of the bed. “Seven.”
We’ve only been asleep around two hours. I know that’s going to suck later.
“Fuck.” He rolls over onto his back. “I need to get to the airport.”
“Or we could change our flights and go back together?”
“You want to change flights?” He yawns again.
“Duh.”
He chuckles, reaching for his phone. “Let me see if I can make this work.” It takes him a couple of minutes, but soon he declares, “Done. We fly out at eleven.”
“Good.” I roll over, laying my chin on his chest. “That means you can marry me today.”
He looks at me in confusion. “You seriously want to get married in Vegas? What about Seda and—”
I cover his mouth with my hand. “I want to marry you today. I don’t want to go another day without calling you my husband. We can have a ceremony later, but Thayer, I’ve waited a long time to marry you and I just don’t want to wait anymore even if that means marrying you in a drive-thru chapel.”
“Are you sure this is what you want?”
“Completely.”
I don’t tell Lauren what we’re up to. This was her weekend, and I don’t want to make it about me. I’m sure she’ll want to strangle me later on when she finds out I didn’t tell her, but for now, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
After getting some clothes from my room, Thayer and I go shopping since neither of us has something wedding appropriate and I don’t want to marry him in my usual shorts and tank top combo.
The white dress I find is a simple sundress with a corseted top and open in the back. It’s not a wedding dress, but I wasn’t looking for one anyway, just something a little nicer. I pay for the dress and change in a nearby restroom while Thayer does the same, changing into whatever he found.
When I walk out of the stall, I try to do something with my hair, but give up and leave it hanging down in its usual loose waves.
Walking out of the bathroom I’m met with Thayer leaning against the opposite wall in a pair of khaki-colored pants and a crisp blue button down. My eyes eat him up.
I get to love this man every day for the rest of my life.
If I could go back in time and tell my eighteen-year-old self that, I wonder what she’d think? She’d probably be cheering me on, to be honest.
Thayer looks me over in the white sundress. His tongue slides out, wetting his lips.
“You look…” He can’t find the words.
“Back at you.”
We already picked our wedding spot and called ahead for an appointment time. We head straight there since as soon as it’s over—which shouldn’t take long—we have to grab our stuff and head straight to the airport.
The venue is cheaply decorated with gaudy, stereotypical décor, but I don’t care. As we stand in front of the officiant all that matters is the man at my side.
Thayer Holmes.
My asshole neighbor.
My boss.
My lover.
My child’s father.
My someone.
And with the echoes of our vows, and the rings on our fingers, he finally becomes…
My husband.
CHAPTER 48
THAYER
The entire flight home I hold the hand of my wife. Did I think when I went to Vegas this weekend, I’d be marrying Salem? Absolutely not. Do I regret it? No.
I’ve waited a long time to marry this woman.
When the plane touches down, I can’t wait to get home and just continue to live life with her.
It’s fucking crazy, but with her, existing is enough. With her, I crave the little things—watching TV together, staying up late talking, even doing the dishes, which is just baffling.
But Salem Holmes is my best friend.
Salem Holmes. I love the sound of that so fucking much. Having her wear my last name is such a turn on. I would’ve been more than fine if she wanted to keep her maiden name, but she wanted my last name.
“Did you drive to the airport or take a taxi?”
“I parked my truck. It’s this way.” I wheel her suitcase behind me, my bag slung over my shoulder. It leaves one of my hands free to hold my wife’s.
My wife—I grin to myself. I can’t stop thinking about those two words.
“What are you smiling about?” she asks.
“You.”
“Me?” She scoffs. “Oh no!” She starts to panic. “Do I have donut on my face?” She rubs at her mouth with the back of her free hand.
“No, your face is perfect.”
“Then why do you have that goofy look?”
“This goofy look?” I let go of her suitcase long enough to point at my face. “That’s called love, Sunshine, and it’s all for you.”