I narrowed my eyes at him. “Quit your moaning, or I’ll start asking about the balloons.” I tilted my head at the horrifically clashing army-green and mustard-yellow balloons tied to the end of the display stand. I gave the vendor a knowing smirk.
She grinned back and played along with my gentle teasing. “Don’t the colors play off each other so well?” she asked, her hand fluttering toward the garish bunch that gently danced in the light breeze. “My daughter picked the color scheme herself. She said they would bring joy to anyone who saw them.”
“More like vomit-inducing nausea,” Jackson muttered under his breath, looking at anything other than the poor saleswoman.
Both the vendor and I burst out laughing. Considering that tiny flecks of snow had begun drifting from the sky, I decided it was probably best to put him out of his misery and picked up a small spray of white roses and baby’s breath that was wrapped in some taupe-colored wax paper. “This will do. Have you got any more of the baby’s breath? I need two or three sprigs small enough to pin to some lapels.”
She hummed. “I should. Give me a moment to check?”
“Sure,” I said, then glared at Jackson when he grumbled. “We’ve gotplentyof time.”
He rolled his eyes, then pointed at his watch. “I dispute that assertion. We have, in fact, one single, solitary hour to get you to the ceremony. If I don’t get you there on time, I’ll be the one they blame, not you.”
I waved him off. “Meh. That’s the risk you took when you accepted the offer of being my best man.”
That decision had surprised a few people when I’d made it, considering Jackson was Daniel’s ex-husband and all, but just as I’d predicted all those months ago when I’d wheeled him out of the hospital, we’d become close, firm friends. He’d quickly turned into the surrogate big brother I needed once it became clear that the relationship I had with Anderson couldn’t be salvaged.
Anderson had never forgiven me for “abandoning” him to the corporate hell he’d built for himself. It hadn’t mattered that ourparents fully supported my decision to stay in Rockdale. He’d only seen how it affected him and his own plans for the future.
Things had been icy between us for months after I’d told him I wasn’t coming home, but when I’d accepted Daniel’s proposal at Christmas, Anderson had lost his mind, cursing the day I’d been born. Up to that point, I think he’d believed I would ultimately tire of living in Rockdale and return home with my tail between my legs, suitably chastised into submission.
That hadn’t happened, of course. I hoped he would eventually calm down enough that we could see a return to our childhood friendship or at least be civil to each other if that brotherly relationship was gone. Unfortunately, when he accused Daniel of being a pedophile for being with someone fourteen years younger than him in our family video chat to celebrate the New Year, I immediately went scorched earth, cutting ties with him and blocking him on everything.
There were some things I wouldn’t put up with, some firm lines in the sand I wouldn’t allow anyone to cross.
Fucking with the man I loved more than anyone else in this world was one of them.
To their credit, Mom and Dad understood and supported my decision, but they felt obligated to continue their own relationship with him. He was their firstborn, and even though they didn’t agree with him, they still loved him.
I worried that he’d eventually push them too far with his antics as well and they’d find themselves crushed, but that was their burden to bear, not mine.
Anderson was no longer someone I needed to let myself worry about.
Still, I mourned the loss of the boy I once knew.
The click of a camera shutter drew me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glanced at Jackson to see him with his phone in his hands, finger poised to take another picture.
Sure enough, he snapped a couple more in quick succession before he smiled softly at my raised eyebrow. “You look good today, Mars. Real good. Daniel won’t know what hit him when he sees you.” He leaned into my shoulder to show me the photos he’d taken.
The last one he’d shot had me looking straight into the camera, my dark hair a frizzy mess with long curly strands going every which way and lightly covered with a dusting of snow. My face was paler than it normally was because of the freezing weather, which meant that the only color you could see was the barely there flush to the tops of my cheeks and the pale ruby of my lips. My eyes had decided to veer into royal blue territory in the photo rather than the sapphire they usually were and peered out from behind my wayward mop of hair.
The bouquet of flowers I’d chosen was between us, and the brake lights from the cars behind me could have been distracting had they been any clearer than the artfully blurry line they’d ended up being.
None of it should have worked, but Jackson was right. The photo he’d taken was gorgeous.
“Maybe I should have hired you to be the wedding photographer as well,” I mused idly, tapping the screen to enlarge it. “Hm… I should have probably cut my hair too.”
Jackson smacked the back of his hand against my chest, but I barely felt it with how thick my jacket was. “Stop second-guessing yourself. Remember how you said that you didn’t need a professional photographer because everyone would be taking their own photos? You wanted the variety of their own POVs.”
“True…,” I hummed, looking appreciatively at his photo again. If this was any indication of what Daniel and I would end up with at the end of the day, we’d have an incredible wedding album to look back on.
“And your hair is fine. Better than fine. Artful, even.”
I rolled my eyes at his ego-boosting rambling, grateful when the flower vendor reappeared with some tastefully put together lapel sprigs, perfect for the five of us who were in the wedding party.
Daniel and I had decided to keep things as laid-back as possible when we’d been organizing our wedding. We’d booked Malone’s for both the ceremony and reception and had been content to not worry about decorating anything, considering that neither of us wanted to waste time on something we didn’t really need. Our moms had vehemently disagreed and badgered us to let them take over the decorations until we gave in.
Mom had texted me a sneak peek photo a couple of hours ago, and I had to begrudgingly admit that they’d both done a fantastic job, which was the only reason why Jackson and I were now standing in front of a street-side vendor picking out flowers that Daniel and I hadn’t planned on having.
