Page 85 of Wild Then Wed
And then we start walking. Toward the house, toward the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.
And apparently, toward whatever the hell this is.
* * *
By the time we’re close to the main house, I’m a full ten steps ahead of Sawyer.
It’s not intentional. My legs are just trying to keep up with the pace of my brain, which is currently spiraling through every possible way this could andwillgo wrong.
When the house finally comes into view, the first thing I notice is Boone’s truck in the driveway.
Oh, hell.
A tightness curls in my stomach, sharp and unwelcome. Boone’s the most protective of all of us. And he’s the oldest, which he thinks gives him some kind of moral authority over the rest of our decisions. Especiallymydecisions. Especially when they involvemen.
I pause at the porch steps and inhale a deep breath, one that’s supposed to ground me but mostly just makes my stomach flip. I look back at Sawyer.
He meets my eyes but doesn’t say a word. Just gives a short nod.
He looks visibly ill.
Fuck me.
When I push open the door, the first thing that hits me is the smell. Something sweet and warm—maybe lemon muffins—and underneath it, the distinct scent of citrus cleaner. Which means Mom’s stress-cleaning. Which also means she knows something is coming. She always had a sixth sense for this kind of thing.
Sawyer follows me in, quiet as a shadow. His shoulder brushes mine for a second, and I hate how steady it makes me feel. I shouldn’t want that from him. I shouldn’t want that from anyone.
From the kitchen, I hear the twins before I see them—Jack and Lainey, chattering and stomping like tiny tornadoes. Someone is definitely climbing something they shouldn’t be.
Hudson’s at the kitchen table, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at whatever is in his baseball magazine. Fourteen going on forty. He looks more like Boone every day—same strong build, same wild, dark curls, same resting scowl.
Sage is at the counter next to Boone with a bowl of oranges. Boone’s eyes lift over the rim of his coffee cup toward the door when it opens. His jaw tenses. Sage blinks. They both raise their eyebrows and look at each other. Mom turns from the oven, wiping her hands on a flour-dusted apron, eyes lighting up when she sees me. They widen slightly when she sees Sawyer.
“Hey, guys,” I say, tucking my hair behind my ear like it might somehow buy me an extra few seconds of sanity. “I’m glad you’re all here.”
And just like that, the room goes silent.
Sage’s gaze cuts from me to Sawyer, and then back again.
Boone’s coffee cup hovers in midair, halfway to his mouth.
Sawyer steps in behind me. Quiet. Calm.
No one says a word.
And suddenly I really, really wish I’d brought some sort of distraction. A pie. A puppy. A grenade. Anything.
I glance at Sawyer, who gives me the smallest nod, as if we’re teammates on a battlefield. Then I turn back to my family and take the leap.
“We, uh…” I clear my throat, already regretting every choice I’ve ever made. “Well. I just thought we should tell you all…we’re getting married.”
The silence is immediate. Dense. Unforgiving.
Sage’s jaw drops so far to the ground I’m not sure she’ll ever be able to pick it back up. Boone goes completely still except for the way his grip tightens on his coffee mug. My mom just blinks like she’s watching a car crash in slow motion.
I tug at a loose strand of hair and lift my left hand.
“Surprise?” I say, aiming for confident but landing somewhere closer to someone being held hostage.
