Page 49 of Huck Frasier
“What do you mean Grammy would be proud? I’m ready to deliver this baby any day now.” We both laughed. One thing about Lark and me is that we laughed at the worst times. Later, we called it a nervous laugh, just to excuse us from being weird.
36
Marley
Inever wanted a big wedding. So the B&B was perfect. Now here I was, standing on the steps Willa had decorated with twinkle lights and wildflowers, clutching my bouquet so tight my knuckles hurt.
Lark fussed with my veil while whispering a steady stream of calming nonsense.
“You look gorgeous. He’s going to faint. He’ll forget his vows. We’ll laugh. It’ll be perfect.”
I peeked around the corner — and there he was.
Fraiser. My trouble. My safety. My everything.
He stood under an arch of white roses and fairy lights, in a suit that hugged his broad shoulders like it was terrified to let go. His hair was neat but still wild at the edges. And when he turned, just enough to see me peeking?
That smile. The one that had ruined me the first time he ever called me ‘sweetheart.’
Lark gave me a gentle shove. “Go get him, Mrs. Frasier.”
Walk with me, sister.” I saw the tears as she nodded and held onto my arm.
WalkingDown the Aisle
Lark squeezed my arm so tight I almost squeaked. “I want you to make sure you sure about this?”
I shot her a side-eye. “If you let go, I’ll run. So don’t let go.”
She huffed a laugh. “Fair enough.”
The doors opened. Music I barely heard. People I barely saw.
All I saw was Fraiser.
His eyes locked on mine and stayed there, even when I tripped slightly over my dress. He didn’t grin. He didn’t tease. He just looked at me like a man who’d crossed a thousand miles of trouble to stand still for one sacred moment. I felt the baby kick, and my hand went to my tummy and rubbed her to calmness.
I handedmy bouquet to Lark, wiped my sweaty palms on Fraiser’s suit jacket (oops), and whispered, “Sorry.”
He whispered back, “I love you so damn much.”
The officiant cleared his throat. Fraiser didn’t blink. He lifted my hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to my knuckles.
“Marley Rose. I don’t have fancy words. I only have the truth. You saved me before you even knew you did. And every day since. I promise to come home. I promise to stay when I’d rather run. I promise I’m yours — in this life and whatever comes next.”
The audience collectively sighed. I'm sobbing and trying not to ruin my mascara.
I sniffled and tried to remember the speech I’d written at two a.m. last week. It evaporated the second I saw his stupid, perfect face.
So I blurted, honest and a little feral, “If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll kill you myself. And I love you. More than air. More than chocolate. More than my own stubborn pride.”
His shoulders shook with quiet laughter. “Not more than chocolate,” he said.
“Way more than chocolate,” I whispered.
“By the power vested in me…”the officiant began.
Fraiser didn’t wait. He grabbed my waist, dipped me so dramatically half the guests squealed, and kissed me so deeply I forgot my own name.
