Laurel was glowing and pretty as a picture in her knee-length white dress that showed no evidence of a baby bump, and Dillon had never looked happier in his navy-blue suit, his auburn hair perfectly coiffed and his face free of stubble.
The ceremony was short, but everyone watched with tears in their eyes as two of the people we’d known and loved for what seemed like forever vowed to love each other until death.
Before they said I do, Laurel ran her fingers over Dillon’s knuckles and said softly, “Dillon, I’ve loved you since you had a cowlick and you screamed like a girl when I put that frog in your sleeping bag.”
We all chuckled, but I saw Jasmine discreetly wipe her cheek and felt my own get wet.
“Laurel,” Dillon said, his tone rough with emotion. “I will love you until I take my last breath, and even after that … forever.”
I heard Dillon’s mom let out a deep sob, then turn to my uncle for comfort as she watched her son marry the girl who’d always been like a daughter to her.
When the judge ended with, “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” then added, “Why don’t you kiss her?” we all laughed and cheered as Dillon dipped Laurel deeply and covered her mouth with his.
“Get a room!” Gabe yelled good-naturally, his own voice suspiciously gruff, then we all rushed the bride and groom and smothered them with hugs and kisses.