Love and Neckties - Lacey Black Page 0,33

I’ll wash it first,” I tell him, shoving the material in my small clutch purse. Now it’s my turn to clear my throat. “Uhh, thank you for sitting by me.”

I leave out the part where I thank him for just being him.

“You’re welcome. I didn’t want you to be alone.”

My throat tightens once more with emotion. Frankly, I’m used to being alone. Even though I have Harper and her family, I’ve been alone for a long time. My grandma tried, but she struggled to raise a young girl who was influenced by tree-huggers and rain-dancers who changed their last name to Rayne because it was “more suiting.” What I’m not used to is having it brought to the forefront of my mind, acknowledging it, and then being comforted.

“We’re going to take some pictures,” Mary Ann says, interrupting my thoughts. It’s a welcome reprieve.

For the next twenty minutes, we go through the motions of taking wedding photos. The couple, individuals of the bride, and then family. I sit back down, a smile on my face as they all interact with one another. Their laughter is real, the smiles genuine, the love unwavering.

“Freedom Rayne, get your ass up here,” my best friend hollers from the altar. The photographer turns my way, tapping his foot as he waits for me to join the party.

“That’s for family,” I tell her, smiling awkwardly as the entire group stares at me.

Including Samuel.

“Silly girl, you are my family. Get up here!” she says, her pearly white teeth showing as she grins at me.

I make my way to the front, trying to slip in the back. Maybe behind Jensen or even Rhenn. He’s broad enough to hide me for sure. However, before I can shimmy my way to the back with the tall kids, Mary Ann grabs my hand and pulls me to stand beside her. Directly in front of Samuel. I can feel his body heat pressed against my back, and suddenly, I’m feeling a little flushed, especially when a hand rests on my hip. The warmth of his hand burns my dress and spreads through my blood.

“Thank you, everyone,” the photographer says, snapping a few more pictures before releasing us to the next part of the evening.

I hang back, letting the bride and groom finish up with the minister, all while keeping an eye on Samuel. He’s wearing a classic black suit with an aqua colored tie. It’s actually the first time I’ve noticed his tie matches the flowers on my own dress. Without even trying, we’re all matchy matchy.

“Oh, Freedom,” Harper says, waving me over. “We need your signature.”

I stop in front of the podium and glance down. “Really? You want me to sign your marriage license?” My shock is real. When Harper and Latham decided to get married in Vegas, they forwent many of the standard traditions, including maid of honor or best man. Instead, they opted to stand in front of a small group of family—and me—without anyone standing up with them.

“Of course I do,” she insists, handing me the pen. Then, she pulls me into her arms and whispers, “You’re my sister from another mister. And I love you.”

So, with tears in my eyes and a heart overflowing with love, I sign my name on the marriage license. As soon as I’m done, Samuel steps up and takes the pen, signing his own name below my name.

Suddenly, a flashback.

Signing another certificate.

He swayed on his feet, but eagerly scratched his name across the line before I had a chance to write mine.

He dropped the pen and pulled my lips to his, feasting on me as if I were his last meal.

Then I signed my name.

“Earth to Freedom,” Harper says, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

“Oh, sorry,” I laugh, feeling the burn of a blush tip my ears.

When I glance at Samuel, the pen is poised directly over the paper, but his eyes are wide in disbelief. As if he’s seeing a ghost. He lifts them, slowly meeting my own eyes, and holding my gaze. “I remember this,” he whispers, glancing around to see who’s watching.

Harper smiles as Latham pulls her into his arms. He kisses her forehead as she looks over at me, a knowing smile on her face. It’s as if she knows he just recalled a piece of the messy puzzle from last night—or this morning.

“Ready to go?” Mary Ann says, coming over to make sure the license is signed.

“All set,” Harper says, as her older brother signs his