Page 199 of Wild Then Wed
Sawyer squeezes my hand again. “Are you okay?”
I nod. “Yeah. It just feels weird, I guess. Not working.”
He glances over, his expression soft. “Youareallowed to exist outside the barn, you know.”
“Tell that to my cortisol levels.”
Sawyer lets out a low chuckle, and when I glance up, he’s already watching me. There’s something in his gaze lately—soft, certain, like I’m not just here with him but somehow the reason he’s here at all.
I don’t know how I ended up next to the most beautiful man in the room, but I’m not questioning it. I’m just reaching for the moment and holding on tight.
We finally step inside and my jaw just…drops.
Everything sparkles. Chandeliers float above us like stars, glittering across polished marble floors. Waiters in tailored black uniforms drift between tables with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres I can’t pronounce. There’s a live quartet playing something elegant and understated, and a grand piano sits tucked near the edge of a glossy black stage. Sage would lose her shit over that piano. Beyond that are tables dressed in white linen, towering floral centerpieces, and candles flickering in crystal holders. The scent of gardenia and something roasted and savory fills the air. I catch a glimpse of a dessert table that looks like it belongs in a magazine. It’s beautiful. And way too much.
I glance down at the ring on my left hand. Glittering, believable, heavy in a way I still haven’t gotten used to yet. I remind myself to play the part, to smile like this is normal. Like I belong here.
But next to Sawyer, I don’t feel like I’m pretending. Not even a little bit.
Heads turn as we make our way inside, people leaning into each other, murmuring. My stomach turns.
I tug gently on Sawyer’s hand. “Why is everyone looking at you?”
He dips his head low, his breath brushing my ear. “They’re not.”
I pull back just enough to see his face. “What?”
“They’re looking at you.”
My cheeks flush hot. “Why?”
He smiles, just barely. “Because you’re beautiful.”
My palm is suddenly sweaty in his, and I start to pull away to wipe it on my dress, but he tightens his grip. Just a gentle squeeze, as if he knew it was coming.
“You’re doing great,” he says quietly.
I nod, and he presses a kiss to my temple just as a man in a crisp black suit approaches, his smile wide. He’s tall—tall enough to almost meet Sawyer eye to eye—and his skin is a deep ebony and glowing. He has warm, intelligent dark eyes and his energy is easy, infectious, like he walks through the world assuming people will like him. And from the looks of it, they usually do.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” the man says, grinning. “Sawyer Hart! You haven’t aged a day.”
Sawyer’s face shifts into unfiltered joy. He grabs the man’s hand in a firm shake, pulls him in, and claps his shoulder with the other hand. “Joel Valentine! It’s so good to see you, brother.”
There’s an ease to it. One that only comes from years and miles and whatever they’ve gone through together. I step back half a step as they separate and Joel turns to me, those kind eyes finding mine.
“And this must be the beautiful bride,” he says, holding out his hand.
I shake his outstretched hand, catching the deep dimples that flash when he smiles. “I’m Wren,” I say automatically. “Wren Wi—Hart.”
Joel doesn’t miss the stumble, but he lets it go with a knowing tilt of his head. “Wren Hart. Gorgeous name for a gorgeous woman.” Then he turns to Sawyer and adds, “Too pretty for this jackass, that’s for sure.”
Sawyer just smiles. “Yeah, I know.” He glances over, amused. “We were in vet school together. Roommates for a while. Now he runs a practice a couple hours south of me.”
He claps Sawyer on the shoulder, shaking him a little. “Known this one for a long time. Now, tell me, Hart—how’d you manage a wife this beautiful, huh? Blackmail? Hypnosis? Are you secretly holding her hostage?”
Joel leans in, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a secret. “Blink twice if he’s got you locked up in a basement somewhere, Wren.”
I laugh before I mean to. It bubbles up and for a second, I forget how tightly I’ve been holding myself together. Joel has that effect, I’m realizing. He’s the type of person who makes you forget you were anxious a minute ago. Who talks to you as if he already knows you, as if there’s nothing about you that needs softening or adjusting first.
