about our relationship has been conventional, so why start now? Do you love me?”
“More than I ever thought I could.” She nods solemnly.
“Good. Because I’d give my life for you. But instead, I’d rather just join it to yours. Okay?”
“Okay.” She goes for my mouth, leaving me with a brief, but searing kiss. “But we have to swing by my house on the way.”
Thirty minutes later, we’re standing in front of a judge, with Lily standing to Penelope’s right and Fletcher standing to mine. My sister-in-law is uncontrollably sniffling, tears leaking from her eyes as she smiles like a lunatic. Fletcher keeps making lewd gestures to Penelope’s sons, who sit in the front row of the courtroom, giggling at their foul soon-to-be uncle.
Ames was the one who picked Penelope her bouquet, which is made up of six dandelions to be exact. Travis sits tall, and I know he’s feeling especially dignified since I asked him for his mother’s hand in marriage fifteen minutes ago. The boy took the job seriously, as the man of the house, and I told him we’d work together as co-heads moving forward. He was so proud that I asked, I could see how much love he has for his Mom. And Matthew, he hasn’t come out and said it, but I hope he’s excited.
I hope they’re all excited, and hopeful. The hell if I know how to be a parent or raise children, but I’m going to try my fucking hardest for these boys, and for Penelope. And … maybe cut down on the cursing.
It seems like the word got out pretty quickly about our nuptials, since my mom and Penelope’s mom rushed into city hall chambers just moments ago, looking flustered but happy. Even Marion, Penelope’s ex mother-in-law, is in attendance. My brothers are scattered throughout the courtroom, and a bunch of other people come walking in, waving at Penelope.
“How did I know that even with half an hour, you’d draw a crowd.” I wink at her.
“It’s the wedding of the century, or didn’t you hear?” She shuffles her sandal on the carpet, both of us in jeans and T-shirts.
“You know we’ll have to do this again in three days, right?” The judge, one of Penelope’s mom’s friends, asks us.
We know that, but want to do this right now anyway. It feels right, and we’ve got the excitement, our relatives here. We’ll come back in three days to sign the paperwork, but this spur of the moment commitment ceremony is exactly the right thing.
“We know.” She nods at him.
“Okay.” He shrugs. “Then we’re all ready?”
I take her hands, ready to quickly say our vows so we can get to the Penelope-becoming-my-wife part. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”
Ain’t that the truth. The first time I saw her, I was a boy, and she was way out of my league. That’s probably still half-true, but my arrogance would never let me believe I didn’t stand a chance.
With a little bit of luck, a whole lot of dirty sex, and almost getting blown up … she’s finally agreed to let me love her forever.
39
Penelope
“I don’t ever want to hear that we rushed our weddings ever again.”
Bowen holds up his beer bottle, giving a surly, Bowen-esque toast at our makeshift wedding reception.
“Talk about a shotgun wedding.” Presley whoops, amusement dancing in her eyes.
“You’re all fucking up this toast, thoroughly.” Fletcher raises his glass of Sprite. “To the bride and groom. I couldn’t think of a more annoying, obnoxious couple … but there is no denying it. You two are absolutely perfect for each other, and we all friggin’ love you together. Congratulations!”
The group of our friends … wait, no. This is my family now. I’m now in, if not by blood, then by marriage.
We all raise our glasses and clink them, my three boys hooting and hollering as they chase each other around the bar. The lot of us are drinking at eleven a.m. on a Wednesday, with children running around an establishment known for late-night hookups and drunken socializing. I wouldn’t have my second wedding any other way.
“I still can’t believe this.” Presley breathes, dreamily gazing at my husband and me.
Looking down at the ring on my left hand, I can barely believe it, too.
“Never thought I’d see another ring on that finger,” I murmur, sending up a silent prayer that Travis is okay with all of this.
Keaton puts an arm around my shoulder. “He’d be happy for you.”
Forrest’s hand laces in mine, an identical