A Cottonbloom Wedding: Wyatt and Sutton
Wyatt opened his eyes to the sound of rain on the roof of the barn. Through the skylights, the rain turned the world gray, masking time. His internal clock told him it was midmorning. Later than he usually rose, but plenty of time considering the wedding wasn’t until three in the afternoon.
The wedding.
His stomach flopped like a frog trying to escape a gigging. He was excited, but nervous. Even though he and Sutton had been living together for months, marriage was a commitment he’d never thought he’d make. Not because he didn’t believe in the institution, but because as an Abbott twin, he hadn’t expected to escape the curse. None of many sets of Abbott twins through the years, his aunts Hazel and Hyacinth included, had married.
Movement at the door to his old room drew his head up. Rubbing his eyes, Jackson shuffled in, lay down next to Wyatt, and pulled the quilt to his chin. It felt like the old days when they’d shared a room and bunk beds. Having his twin brother close was his security blanket—a comfort beyond measure.
“Morning, sunshine,” Jackson said in a scratchy voice. “How’s your head?”
Wyatt, Jackson, Mack, and Ford had stayed up late drinking beer and talking. They’d tried to take Wyatt out for a bachelor party but all he’d really wanted was to hang with his brothers. Having Ford back in the fold was like finally getting their family engine running smooth.
Ford had crashed with Mack, Ella had stayed at her old house with Megan, and Willa had stayed with Sutton, which left Wyatt and Jackson back where they had started so many years ago.
“Now that you mention it, my head hurts, but I’ve been in worse shape,” Wyatt said.
“You remember that time we snuck out into the woods with a bottle of Jack?”
Just the memory made him feel queasy. “I couldn’t sit down for a week after Pop got hold of us.”
Their laughter joined before petering out, leaving the sound of the rain. Besides his brother, the feeling of being close to nature was the one thing he missed about living in the loft with the skylights overhead.
“Rain is supposed to be good luck for a wedding,” Jackson said.
“Says who? Seems more like a bad omen to me.” Although his voice was light, he was only half-teasing.
“You worried about the curse striking you like a bolt of lightning? Relax. I already broke it for you.” Jackson knuckle-punched Wyatt’s arm, but it lacked any force from their prone positions.
Jackson and Willa had run off to the justice of the peace and gotten hitched months before without telling anyone or making a big hullaballoo about it. In fact, they were back to work the next day as if nothing momentous had happened. Yet, Wyatt could sense a change in Jackson like a river carving a new path through bedrock.
“I wish I could have talked Sutton into eloping like you and Willa.”
“This wedding is important to Sutton and her mama. All you have to do is stand up there in your monkey suit and do what they tell you to do.”
Jackson was right, of course. Sutton had designed and sewed her own wedding dress and her mama had invited half the parish to witness the vows. He would endure as long as Sutton was happy. At least he wouldn’t be alone—his brothers would be standing up front with him in identical monkey suits.
A snicker born of a long history of brotherly torture snuck out of Wyatt. “Getting Mack into a tux might be my life’s greatest accomplishment.”
“He acted like a disgruntled toddler at the fitting until Ella whispered something in his ear that made him blush. After that, he was the definition of compliant.”
A grin spread over Wyatt’s face. “I wish I could have seen him. I’ll have to admit the garage is a more pleasant workplace since Ella tamed the beast.”
Jackson’s laugh faded into his characteristic seriousness. “I’m glad he’s happy. Ella’s a good woman.”
“Good? She’s a saint for dealing with Mack’s grumpy ass.” Wyatt sat up. “Speaking of asses, we should move ours. Sutton’s mama will string us all up if we throw off her schedule. I swear she has it down to the minute.”
Jackson grabbed Wyatt’s arm before he could rise. “Hey, bro. I’m glad you’re happy too.”
Wyatt stared for a moment into Jackson’s eyes. Wyatt’s breath squeezed out of his lungs. Their shared family history—good and bad—was written in Jackson’s eyes and, no doubt, reflected back from Wyatt’s. The fact all of the brothers, including Ford in his roundabout way, had found their places in the world was a near miracle.
No more needed to be said. Jackson let go and the solemnity of moment passed into a kind of excited peace as they got ready. They laughed through tying each other’s bow tie.
After smoothing the lapels of his black jacket, Wyatt gave a twirl. “How do I look?”
“Not as god-awful ugly as usual.” Jackson smiled, his eyes twinkling.
Coming from one of his brothers, it was a compliment. Wyatt was ready to get hitched.
He took one more look around the loft. Although, he hadn’t lived there in months, and Willa’s touch could be seen from the matching dishes in the kitchen to the built-in bookcases flanking the TV and filled with books, a sense if melancholy finality overcame him.
But he was ready to move on to the next phase of his life with Sutton. He jogged down the stairs and didn’t look back. The back barn doors were open a couple of feet, the rain obscuring the woods and puddling in the entry.
Ford and Mack milled around the couch. They too were in their rented tuxes. Ford’s bow tie was neatly tied and his jacket was on while Mack’s tie hung loose and his jacket was thrown over the back of the couch.
“There’s the man.” Mack pulled him into a big bear hug, lifting his feet off the ground like he used to when they were kids. Mack was still the biggest and strongest of all of them. Once released, Wyatt exchanged a fist bump with Ford, then the four of them stood in a quiet semicircle.
“Pop would happy to see us all together,” Wyatt said gruffly.
“All of us settled and happy and the garage thriving,” Ford added.
Mack clapped him on the back. “He’d be proud. Of all of us.”
Age-old rivalries and tensions had been finally vanquished. Having all his brothers there to stand next to him while he took the biggest leap of his life was more important than he could put into words. Yet, he had to try.
“Guys, I don’t want to get too sappy, but—”
A crack of thunder had them all jumping. The rain outside turned from a downpour into a deluge.
“That was close. Lightning must have hit a tree.” Jackson peered out the back door careful to stay out of the spray of rain. “Should we wait until it dies down?”
A niggle of unease had the hairs on Wyatt’s neck standing on end. Or maybe it was the electricity vibrating the air. He checked his watch. They had plenty of time, yet an urgency to get to the church had Wyatt pacing.
Fifteen minutes later, the rain had eased up enough to see the tree line in the distance. Sure enough, a pine tree looked as if God had taken an axe and split the trunk down the middle. Wyatt swallowed and turned to his brothers. “Not sure it’s going to get any better for a while. Let’s hit it.”
They filed out of the barn and made a run for Mack’s black truck, shaking the rain out of their hair and brushing their jackets once they were safe and dry inside. Mack cranked the engine, flipped the wipers to their fastest speed, and eased them onto the road where water sluiced across the pavement in mini-waves.
Mack gripped the steering wheel with both hands and sat forward in his seat, his concentration focused on the rain-camouflaged road. Wyatt pulled out his phone and pulled up his weather app.
A yell came from Ford in the front seat. A heartbeat later, the truck jerked to the left and hydroplaned. They came to an abrupt stop. Wyatt’s head knocked into the door, and he blinked to clear the ringing in his ears. Tilted into a shallow gully, the front end of the truck was against a tree. Luckily, Mack hadn’t been going fast enough to do major damage.
“Everyone okay?” Mack turned in his seat, his brows low.
“What happened?” Jackson asked.
“Looked like a white-tailed deer to me. Jumped right out in front of us.” Ford unclipped his seat belt and turned too.
“I hit the brakes and managed to miss him but skid out.” Mack blew out a breath. “How you doing back there, Wyatt?”
“Fine.” The ringing in his ears had abated but the side of his face throbbed. He shifted to check himself in the rearview mirror.
“Ah, shit. Your face.” Mack looked horrified. Which in turn freaked Wyatt out.
Wyatt touched his cheek. It was wet. He looked at his fingers. They were red. Spatters dotted the front of his formerly pristine white shirt. “I’m bleeding.”
Jackson turned him around and grimaced. “You busted your eyebrow open and your eye is already swelling. Damn.”
“Sutton is going to kill me,” Mack muttered.
Ford handed a napkin back to Wyatt. He pressed it against his eyebrow. “No one’s going to die today. I’ll slap a Band-Aid on it and one of you will change shirts with me. No one will be looking at me anyway. Let’s see how good the four-wheel drive is in this monster.”
Mack cranked the truck. The engine clicked but didn’t turn over.
“On the other hand, Sutton may indeed kill you if you can’t get me to the church on time.” Wyatt tried to inject a tease, but the anxious knot in his stomach elbowed out his sense of humor.
Mack ran a hand through his hair. “It could be something simple like the battery cable coming loose. Let me check.”
He popped the hood and slipped out into the pelting rain. Two minutes later, he dropped the hood and Wyatt expelled a sigh of relief. That had been fast. Mack climbed back in accompanied by a litany of curses.
“Radiator is busted. We’re stuck.” He punched the steering wheel.
Jackson said, “Alright, not a tragedy. Is Landrum in town yet? He’d be happy to help out.”
“He had a deal to close and wasn’t coming up until today.” Wyatt leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “The aunts should be able to squeeze us into the Crown Vic.”
“I was going to pick them up later so they wouldn’t have to drive in this mess. What about Ella or Willa?”
“Ella’d have to make four trips with her tiny convertible. Plus, I’d rather Sutton didn’t hear about this so she won’t stress. I’ll call the aunts.” Wyatt grabbed his phone from where it had fallen on the floorboard. The screen was covered in tiny cracks and remained dark. “My phone is busted worse than my face.”
Mack picked up his phone and punched a contact. Wyatt met his gaze in the mirror.
“Aunt Hy. The boys and I need a favor.”
While Mack gave her a brief rundown, Wyatt asked, “Does anyone else appreciate the irony?”
“What? The fact three and a half—sorry, Ford—mechanics are sitting in a broken-down truck on the side of the road waiting for a lift?” Jackson settled back in his seat and propped his foot up on the middle console.
“That, but mostly because we’re waiting for Hy and Hazel to roll up in their Crown Vic. A car that’s been in our shop more than any car ever.” Wyatt checked the napkin. His face seemed to have stopped bleeding.
“Considering the number of times we’ve changed the oil and air filter and given it a once-over, it’s the most reliable car in the parish,” Jackson said.
“As long as Aunt Hy doesn’t hit anything on the way over.” Mack elbowed Jackson’s foot off the console.
“What? Like you did?” Jackson shot back.
“Touché.”
+++
“What? You can’t be serious.” Sutton’s stomach took a flying leap to flail on the floor. “How did it happen?”
Clutching her robe together with her hair coiffed and shellacked into place, Sutton’s mother paced in front of the twin bed Sutton had slept in as a child. Her teenage posters still decorated the walls, giving the room a time-warp feel. Sitting on the bed, Willa looked like Sutton felt—horrified.
“Bad oysters. You didn’t have any, did you?”
“I was too nervous to eat much, but no. Obviously, neither of you ate them either.” She glanced back and forth at the two of them
“No. I didn’t.” Her mother covered her mouth.
“What? Spit it out, Mother.”
“You know how much your father loves shellfish.”
Sutton sank to the edge of the bed. Nausea rose but it was due entirely to nerves and not tainted oysters. “Wyatt had the steak last night, so he should be fine.”
“So did Jackson,” Willa said.
“Who else is sick?” Sutton looked up at her mother who still had her mouth covered.
“Reverend Mitchell. The organist. The florist. Several others too.”
Sutton fell backward and pulled a pillow over her head, not caring if her hair was squished at this point. The pouring rain had been unwelcome but not a surprise after keeping an eye on the front moving through. Finding out half the wedding party had been poisoned at the rehearsal dinner might not qualify as a tragedy, but it was a shock.
“Could I have a minute alone?” She didn’t raise the pillow until the door snicked closed.
Without rising, she reached for her phone and called Wyatt. Even though he couldn’t fix things, she needed to hear his voice. Straight to voicemail. She tried again. No answer.
No need to panic. He was with Jackson, and no one was more levelheaded than Jackson. Except when he got a wild hair and raced hell-bent for leather around a racetrack. Oh God. She punched his name with a trembling finger.
“Sutton. Great to hear from you.” Jackson’s voice had an artificial cheeriness.
“Are you with Wyatt? He’s not answering his phone.”
“Yeah, he’s right here. Hang on a second.”
Confined, muffled conversation overlay the noise of rain. Even though she wasn’t going to see him before walking down the aisle, knowing he was on the way to her beat back the tears that threatened.
“Hey, babe.” Wyatt’s warm voice was like an enveloping hug.
“God, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“We’re fine. How did you hear?”
“Mother told me.”
“Wow. News travels fast.”
“So none of you are sick?”
“Sick?” There was a pause on his end. “Let’s back up. What are you talking about?”
“The food poisoning.”
“Aw, hell. From what?”
“The oysters last night. My dad, the minister, the organist, and no telling who else.” Her brain whirred, and she sat up. “Hang on. What were you talking about?”
“Dang it, Aunt Hy, slow down. It’s not a race.” His voice came over as if he’d dropped the phone from his mouth. Then, he was back. “Sorry, Aunt Hy thinks she can drive the parish roads like Jackson.”
“Why is Miss Hyacinth driving you and not Mack? Is he sick?”
“Not sick. We’re all fine and crammed into the Crown Vic with Hy and Hazel. I’m getting a sharp elbow from Aunt Hazel right now. Hang on.” A pause. “She wants me to tell you how much she’s looking forward to the wedding.”
“There’s not going to be a wedding if we don’t have a preacher. And I’m not sure if my father will be well enough to walk me down the aisle.” Her tears were back at the thought of canceling.
“Babe. It’s Cottonbloom. We have more preachers per capita than any town east of the Mississippi. I’ll scare one up even if I have to offer free oil changes for a year. Leave it to me.”
As usual, his confidence encompassed her. She couldn’t imagine facing life’s travails with anyone else. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Are you going straight to the church?” she asked.
“Yep. Listen. Before I see you, I need to tell you something.”
“What? You don’t have another wife stored in the attic, do you?” She gave a halfhearted laugh. Willa had insisted she read Jane Eyre, and Sutton had since used gothic romances as an escape from the unrelenting details of planning the wedding. A wedding that was falling apart.
When Wyatt didn’t join her laughter, she clutched the phone tighter. “You’re scaring me, Wyatt. You are coming, aren’t you?”
“Babe. Of course, I’ll be there. It’s just I don’t want you to freak out when you see me.”
“Oh my God, did you wake up with a face tattoo or something? I’m going to kill Mack.”
His laughter throttled her panic down to second gear. “No. But the reason we’re all stuffed in the Crown Vic with the aunts is because we had a little bit of an accident in Mack’s truck. Everyone is fine, but my eye is a little swollen.”
“Oh sweetie. I’m so sorry. I don’t care what you look like as long as you’re waiting for me at the altar.”
“I’ll be there. Don’t worry. We have time to get it all figured out.”
She let out a breath. He was right. They’d figure it out together. “See you soon.”
“You know it.”
They disconnected. Sutton sat up and readjusted her thinking. Her wedding wasn’t going to be perfect, but that wasn’t what was important anyway. All that mattered is that at the end of the day, she and Wyatt were together. That’s what she’d focus on.
She opened the door and found Willa leaning against the wall while her mother paced the hall. “Wyatt and the boys are on the way to the church. He’s going to find a replacement preacher.”
“You’re not going to cancel?”
“I don’t want to cancel, Mother. I don’t care if everything isn’t perfect, I just want to get married to Wyatt.”
Her mother’s lips compressed and she nodded. “Then we’ll make it happen.”
Sutton gave her mother a hug, resting her forehead on her shoulder. Yes, she was a grown woman with her own business and a burgeoning design studio, but having her mother’s support and strength behind her meant more than she could put into words.
“Where’s Maggie?”
“She’s steaming your dress,” her mother said.
Sutton headed toward the spare bedroom they were using as a dressing room. Her sensible sister was kneeling and steaming the wrinkles out of the hem of the wedding dress. Her brown hair was in loose curls instead of her usual ponytail. She looked up as Sutton walked in.
Something must have shown on Sutton’s face, because Maggie rose and propped her hands on her hips. “I know things seem dire, but we’re going to have a good laugh about this someday.”
Sutton garbled out a tear-filled laugh. “You think?”
“For sure. You wanted a memorable wedding. This will talked about for decades to come, so score. Are you ready to put this gorgeous concoction on your body?”
Sutton and Maggie had grown closer over the last months. Maybe Sutton had softened because of Wyatt or maybe it was a progression of growing up, but doors that had once been closed due to natural sibling rivalry opened, and Sutton couldn’t be more grateful to have Maggie in her corner.
Sutton had designed and made her wedding dress and the bridesmaid dresses Maggie and Willa would wear. Her wedding dress had a full skirt and tight bodice with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves. It was straight out of a Disney movie.
The bridesmaid’s dresses were less traditional and more like cocktail dresses. Willa and Maggie both made excellent models and Sutton designed something they actually could wear again—midnight blue, knee length, and sexy.
The next half hour was spent getting dressed, and their laughter returned a sense of normalcy, even though the rain continued to pound the roof. Sutton kept a picture of Wyatt waiting for her at the front of the church in her mind’s eye and her optimism crept out of the cellar.
The ringing of the doorbell and a commotion echoed from the marble entry of the Mize family home and stilled all three of them. A premonition sent Sutton running for the stairs.
All four Abbott brothers in tuxedos and two Abbott aunts in their Sunday best milled around. Wyatt, his back to Sutton, had his head close to her mother in conversation. What else could have possibly gone wrong?
She fisted her skirts and tackled the steps. Her mother saw her first. “Sutton, no! It’s bad luck to be seen before the wedding.”
“We’ve already had all the bad luck we can handle, haven’t we?”
Everyone quieted and with everyone’s gaze upon her, she dropped her skirts and slowed. Wyatt stepped forward.
She gasped and stopped two steps up. All she could manage was a whispered, “Your poor face.”
His grin was off-kilter because of the swelling. “I think it gives me a roguish charm, no?”
It looked painful. She brushed her fingertips lightly across his forehead above the cut on along his eyebrow. Her chin wobbled and the tears she’d been holding back all morning finally broke free.
His smile disappeared. He lifted her off the step and carried her into her father’s office. “I’m sorry our wedding day hasn’t turned out perfect. Because you deserve perfect.”
She buried her face in his neck. “I’m not crying because of the rain or the food poisoning. You’re hurt.”
His arms tightened around her, and she could feel his smile. Sure enough, when she looked up, his smile was so tender, she found herself smiling back.
“This is only one day out of thousands we’ll have together. You know that, right?” He wrapped his hand around her nape, and she didn’t even care if he messed up her hair. Their photographer was sick anyway.
“I know and I’m grateful I get to spend thousands of more days with you.” She leaned in to lay the gentlest of kisses on his mouth. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why aren’t you at the church?”
A grimace replaced his smile and his gaze streaked off to the side. “Yeah, about the church.”
She stepped back. “Did lightning strike it down? Did an earthquake swallow it up? Is this an omen from God?”
“Nothing so dramatic. Apparently, the wind knocked out power sometime last night. They’re working on getting it restored, but it might take a couple of hours or more and with no air-conditioning, it’s miserable inside.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It gets worse. The food.”
The plan had been to move into the church’s main hall for the buffet reception. The caterer had the food ready and stored in the industrial-sized fridges in the church kitchen. But, no power meant spoiled food.
“This is like a farce. What are we going to do, Wyatt?”
“I hung a sign on the church.”
“What did it say?”
“That the wedding was cancelled.”
“It’s the only logical thing we can do, right?”
He nodded. He took her hand in his. The wedding was only a formality after all. She was already bound to this man with or without a piece of paper to make it legal. The chatter in the entry hall had gained momentum with Willa and Maggie joining the Abbotts.
Everyone fell silent as Wyatt and Sutton walked up. Wyatt brought theirs hands up and kissed the back of hers before turning to address the group. “Based on everything that’s happened, I don’t think we have a choice but to cancel.”
Hazel exchanged a pointed look with her twin sister and stepped forward. “We’ve been talking about that and came up with an alternative. If you’re interested.”
Without letting go of Wyatt, Sutton shuffled forward. “We’re interested, but we don’t have a church, a preacher, music, or food.”
Hazel adjusted her black patent leather pocketbook on her arm and linked her hands. “I took a few on-line divinity courses and got ordained along the way.”
“Are you telling me you can legally marry us?” Incredulity sailed Wyatt’s voice high.
“I can,” Hazel said in her usual understated yet indomitable way.
“I can play a rousing wedding march on the piano,” Hyacinth said over her sister’s shoulder. “Looks like you have one in your living room.”
Mack put his arm around Hyacinth’s shoulders. “I called Rufus to put him on standby for barbeque with all the fixings.”
Jackson looked up from where he was texting. “Landrum can swing by the church and grab the flower arrangements.”
Sutton’s mother took one of her hands. “What do you want, Sutton? Do you want to get married here today or cancel until the church is available?”
There was no question in her mind. She hadn’t wanted a big society wedding anyway. As the daughter of a prominent judge, she’d gone along with her mother’s plan because it had made her parents happy. She turned to Wyatt and smiled. “I want to get married here. Today.”
“You sure?” As if they were the only two people in the entry, he waited, his fingertips gliding down her cheek.
“More sure than I’ve ever been. This is all I ever wanted or needed. Us surrounded by our family and friends.” She wrapped her hand around his wrist and kissed his palm.
He drew his hand into a fist as if he could catch her kiss and turned to the others. “You heard the lady, the wedding is on!”
The next hour was a whirlwind of activity. Her mother fielded calls from townspeople. Most people she put off with regrets, but a few Sutton wanted there. Like Bree, her childhood best friend. The healing from her betrayal wasn’t complete and their friendship would never be the same, yet Bree would always hold a special place in her memories. Anyway, it was hard to be upset when Bree’s actions had led Sutton to Wyatt.
Wyatt’s mother and Ella arrived, and Sutton only had time to exchange hugs before Maggie whisked her back upstairs to finish getting ready. A half hour later, a knock sounded and the door cracked open.
“Everyone decent?” Her father’s voice was a mere echo of his booming, courtroom tone. Sutton swept the door open. Looking pale but determined, her father smiled and took her hands. “You look beautiful, dear. Then again, you always do.”
“Are you sure you’re up to walking me down the aisle? You can sit at the front with Mother.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Are they ready?”
“Ready whenever you ladies are. Maggie, you and Willa look spectacular.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” Maggie gave her father a kiss on the cheek on her way out the door.
“Thank you, Judge Mize.” Willa ducked her head, a blush on her cheeks as she followed Maggie.
“Shall we?” Her father crooked his elbow and Sutton slipped her hand through. At the top of the stairs, the familiar notes of the wedding march started. Much like she approached life, Hyacinth played with gusto and enthusiasm with only a few sour notes.
As they reached the bottom and paused at the entrance of their family living room, her father whispered, “I’m sorry everything wasn’t perfect.”
A riot of colorful wildflowers filled the room. Someone had commandeered folding chairs, which were filled with all the most important people in her life, both new and old. Others stood along the sides. Most important, Wyatt waited, his brothers lined up beside him.
She smiled and everyone except Wyatt blurred as tears pricked her eyes. “No. This is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Her father handed her to Wyatt and as if Hazel had performed a marriage ceremony before, she hit every note, her command of the ceremony impressive. The only hiccup came when Hazel recited the traditional vows—love, honor, and obey.
Sutton hesitated, but as usual, Wyatt saved the day. “How about love, honor, and talk out our disagreements until I admit Sutton is always right?”
A few titters and laughs rang out from the crowd. Sutton joined in and said with a smile in her voice, “I promise to love, honor, and talk out disagreements as long as we both shall live.”
Hazel smiled and had Wyatt repeat the same. They slipped rings on each other’s fingers, hers a simple gold band, his made from trendier black rubber since rings were banned from the shop floor.
Breaking with tradition once their vows were spoken, Hazel leaned in to give them both a kiss on the cheek, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I’m so glad you and Jackson broke the twin curse and with such wonderful women. I’m proud of the men you’ve become.” She glanced toward the wall of Abbotts behind Wyatt. “All of you. Now, you may kiss your bride, Wyatt.”
Sutton closed her eyes when their lips met and the world fell away for a few shining moments. Even though she didn’t think getting married would make her feel any different, somehow the ritual strengthened their bonds in a tangible way.
Hyacinth played them out to a rousing rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In.” The next hours were a whirlwind, and Wyatt and Sutton didn’t have a chance for a private moment.
Rufus had sent Clayton Preston with enough barbeque and fixings to feed them all. As he set up folding tables to form a makeshift buffet line in the entry way, Sutton’s mother sidled next to Sutton.
“Who is that?”
“It’s Thaddeus Preston’s brother, Clayton,” Sutton said. Thaddeus was the Cottonbloom, Mississippi chief of police and well known to everyone.
“I heard the brother was a convict.”
“Clayton did some time, but as far as I know, he’s been a model citizen. He’s very nice, by the way.” And he was, but Sutton could also sense an edge of darkness in him and wondered if he still flirted with danger.
At the moment though, he was in a long-sleeved button-down that covered the tattoos on his arms and a pair of khakis covered by a white apron.
Her mother made a slightly disapproving humming sound but said no more. Sutton turned away looking for Wyatt. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Maggie. Her sister had never looked better with her contacts in and her hair loose and her killer body outlined by her dress.
Yet, she was half-hidden in the shadows of the hall, intently focused on something—or someone. Sutton followed Maggie’s stare to Clayton. If there was a list of men Sutton would pair with her sister, Clayton wouldn’t even make the top hundred.
Maggie had never had a serious boyfriend, and Clayton was . . . well, a man who projected a life lived beyond his years. Was her sister crushing on the bad boy across the river?
Interrupting her musing, Wyatt grabbed her hand, held a finger to his lips and guided her up the stairs. Giggling, she pulled him into her room and leaned against the closed door.
“Finally alone, Mrs. Abbott.” He advanced on her, any sentimentality stamped out by the distinctly sexual tease in his voice and face.
“Why, Mr. Abbott, whatever are you planning?” She fluttered her hand over her collarbone in faked outrage.
“Something dastardly that will no doubt wrinkle the gorgeous concoction of your wedding dress.”
She slipped by him and flopped backward on her twin bed, laughing her head off.
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Wyatt opened his eyes to the sound of rain on the roof of the barn. Through the skylights, the rain turned the world gray, masking time. His internal clock told him it was midmorning. Later than he usually rose, but plenty of time considering the wedding wasn’t until three in the afternoon.
The wedding.
His stomach flopped like a frog trying to escape a gigging. He was excited, but nervous. Even though he and Sutton had been living together for months, marriage was a commitment he’d never thought he’d make. Not because he didn’t believe in the institution, but because as an Abbott twin, he hadn’t expected to escape the curse. None of many sets of Abbott twins through the years, his aunts Hazel and Hyacinth included, had married.
Movement at the door to his old room drew his head up. Rubbing his eyes, Jackson shuffled in, lay down next to Wyatt, and pulled the quilt to his chin. It felt like the old days when they’d shared a room and bunk beds. Having his twin brother close was his security blanket—a comfort beyond measure.
“Morning, sunshine,” Jackson said in a scratchy voice. “How’s your head?”
Wyatt, Jackson, Mack, and Ford had stayed up late drinking beer and talking. They’d tried to take Wyatt out for a bachelor party but all he’d really wanted was to hang with his brothers. Having Ford back in the fold was like finally getting their family engine running smooth.
Ford had crashed with Mack, Ella had stayed at her old house with Megan, and Willa had stayed with Sutton, which left Wyatt and Jackson back where they had started so many years ago.
“Now that you mention it, my head hurts, but I’ve been in worse shape,” Wyatt said.
“You remember that time we snuck out into the woods with a bottle of Jack?”
Just the memory made him feel queasy. “I couldn’t sit down for a week after Pop got hold of us.”
Their laughter joined before petering out, leaving the sound of the rain. Besides his brother, the feeling of being close to nature was the one thing he missed about living in the loft with the skylights overhead.
“Rain is supposed to be good luck for a wedding,” Jackson said.
“Says who? Seems more like a bad omen to me.” Although his voice was light, he was only half-teasing.
“You worried about the curse striking you like a bolt of lightning? Relax. I already broke it for you.” Jackson knuckle-punched Wyatt’s arm, but it lacked any force from their prone positions.
Jackson and Willa had run off to the justice of the peace and gotten hitched months before without telling anyone or making a big hullaballoo about it. In fact, they were back to work the next day as if nothing momentous had happened. Yet, Wyatt could sense a change in Jackson like a river carving a new path through bedrock.
“I wish I could have talked Sutton into eloping like you and Willa.”
“This wedding is important to Sutton and her mama. All you have to do is stand up there in your monkey suit and do what they tell you to do.”
Jackson was right, of course. Sutton had designed and sewed her own wedding dress and her mama had invited half the parish to witness the vows. He would endure as long as Sutton was happy. At least he wouldn’t be alone—his brothers would be standing up front with him in identical monkey suits.
A snicker born of a long history of brotherly torture snuck out of Wyatt. “Getting Mack into a tux might be my life’s greatest accomplishment.”
“He acted like a disgruntled toddler at the fitting until Ella whispered something in his ear that made him blush. After that, he was the definition of compliant.”
A grin spread over Wyatt’s face. “I wish I could have seen him. I’ll have to admit the garage is a more pleasant workplace since Ella tamed the beast.”
Jackson’s laugh faded into his characteristic seriousness. “I’m glad he’s happy. Ella’s a good woman.”
“Good? She’s a saint for dealing with Mack’s grumpy ass.” Wyatt sat up. “Speaking of asses, we should move ours. Sutton’s mama will string us all up if we throw off her schedule. I swear she has it down to the minute.”
Jackson grabbed Wyatt’s arm before he could rise. “Hey, bro. I’m glad you’re happy too.”
Wyatt stared for a moment into Jackson’s eyes. Wyatt’s breath squeezed out of his lungs. Their shared family history—good and bad—was written in Jackson’s eyes and, no doubt, reflected back from Wyatt’s. The fact all of the brothers, including Ford in his roundabout way, had found their places in the world was a near miracle.
No more needed to be said. Jackson let go and the solemnity of moment passed into a kind of excited peace as they got ready. They laughed through tying each other’s bow tie.
After smoothing the lapels of his black jacket, Wyatt gave a twirl. “How do I look?”
“Not as god-awful ugly as usual.” Jackson smiled, his eyes twinkling.
Coming from one of his brothers, it was a compliment. Wyatt was ready to get hitched.
He took one more look around the loft. Although, he hadn’t lived there in months, and Willa’s touch could be seen from the matching dishes in the kitchen to the built-in bookcases flanking the TV and filled with books, a sense if melancholy finality overcame him.
But he was ready to move on to the next phase of his life with Sutton. He jogged down the stairs and didn’t look back. The back barn doors were open a couple of feet, the rain obscuring the woods and puddling in the entry.
Ford and Mack milled around the couch. They too were in their rented tuxes. Ford’s bow tie was neatly tied and his jacket was on while Mack’s tie hung loose and his jacket was thrown over the back of the couch.
“There’s the man.” Mack pulled him into a big bear hug, lifting his feet off the ground like he used to when they were kids. Mack was still the biggest and strongest of all of them. Once released, Wyatt exchanged a fist bump with Ford, then the four of them stood in a quiet semicircle.
“Pop would happy to see us all together,” Wyatt said gruffly.
“All of us settled and happy and the garage thriving,” Ford added.
Mack clapped him on the back. “He’d be proud. Of all of us.”
Age-old rivalries and tensions had been finally vanquished. Having all his brothers there to stand next to him while he took the biggest leap of his life was more important than he could put into words. Yet, he had to try.
“Guys, I don’t want to get too sappy, but—”
A crack of thunder had them all jumping. The rain outside turned from a downpour into a deluge.
“That was close. Lightning must have hit a tree.” Jackson peered out the back door careful to stay out of the spray of rain. “Should we wait until it dies down?”
A niggle of unease had the hairs on Wyatt’s neck standing on end. Or maybe it was the electricity vibrating the air. He checked his watch. They had plenty of time, yet an urgency to get to the church had Wyatt pacing.
Fifteen minutes later, the rain had eased up enough to see the tree line in the distance. Sure enough, a pine tree looked as if God had taken an axe and split the trunk down the middle. Wyatt swallowed and turned to his brothers. “Not sure it’s going to get any better for a while. Let’s hit it.”
They filed out of the barn and made a run for Mack’s black truck, shaking the rain out of their hair and brushing their jackets once they were safe and dry inside. Mack cranked the engine, flipped the wipers to their fastest speed, and eased them onto the road where water sluiced across the pavement in mini-waves.
Mack gripped the steering wheel with both hands and sat forward in his seat, his concentration focused on the rain-camouflaged road. Wyatt pulled out his phone and pulled up his weather app.
A yell came from Ford in the front seat. A heartbeat later, the truck jerked to the left and hydroplaned. They came to an abrupt stop. Wyatt’s head knocked into the door, and he blinked to clear the ringing in his ears. Tilted into a shallow gully, the front end of the truck was against a tree. Luckily, Mack hadn’t been going fast enough to do major damage.
“Everyone okay?” Mack turned in his seat, his brows low.
“What happened?” Jackson asked.
“Looked like a white-tailed deer to me. Jumped right out in front of us.” Ford unclipped his seat belt and turned too.
“I hit the brakes and managed to miss him but skid out.” Mack blew out a breath. “How you doing back there, Wyatt?”
“Fine.” The ringing in his ears had abated but the side of his face throbbed. He shifted to check himself in the rearview mirror.
“Ah, shit. Your face.” Mack looked horrified. Which in turn freaked Wyatt out.
Wyatt touched his cheek. It was wet. He looked at his fingers. They were red. Spatters dotted the front of his formerly pristine white shirt. “I’m bleeding.”
Jackson turned him around and grimaced. “You busted your eyebrow open and your eye is already swelling. Damn.”
“Sutton is going to kill me,” Mack muttered.
Ford handed a napkin back to Wyatt. He pressed it against his eyebrow. “No one’s going to die today. I’ll slap a Band-Aid on it and one of you will change shirts with me. No one will be looking at me anyway. Let’s see how good the four-wheel drive is in this monster.”
Mack cranked the truck. The engine clicked but didn’t turn over.
“On the other hand, Sutton may indeed kill you if you can’t get me to the church on time.” Wyatt tried to inject a tease, but the anxious knot in his stomach elbowed out his sense of humor.
Mack ran a hand through his hair. “It could be something simple like the battery cable coming loose. Let me check.”
He popped the hood and slipped out into the pelting rain. Two minutes later, he dropped the hood and Wyatt expelled a sigh of relief. That had been fast. Mack climbed back in accompanied by a litany of curses.
“Radiator is busted. We’re stuck.” He punched the steering wheel.
Jackson said, “Alright, not a tragedy. Is Landrum in town yet? He’d be happy to help out.”
“He had a deal to close and wasn’t coming up until today.” Wyatt leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “The aunts should be able to squeeze us into the Crown Vic.”
“I was going to pick them up later so they wouldn’t have to drive in this mess. What about Ella or Willa?”
“Ella’d have to make four trips with her tiny convertible. Plus, I’d rather Sutton didn’t hear about this so she won’t stress. I’ll call the aunts.” Wyatt grabbed his phone from where it had fallen on the floorboard. The screen was covered in tiny cracks and remained dark. “My phone is busted worse than my face.”
Mack picked up his phone and punched a contact. Wyatt met his gaze in the mirror.
“Aunt Hy. The boys and I need a favor.”
While Mack gave her a brief rundown, Wyatt asked, “Does anyone else appreciate the irony?”
“What? The fact three and a half—sorry, Ford—mechanics are sitting in a broken-down truck on the side of the road waiting for a lift?” Jackson settled back in his seat and propped his foot up on the middle console.
“That, but mostly because we’re waiting for Hy and Hazel to roll up in their Crown Vic. A car that’s been in our shop more than any car ever.” Wyatt checked the napkin. His face seemed to have stopped bleeding.
“Considering the number of times we’ve changed the oil and air filter and given it a once-over, it’s the most reliable car in the parish,” Jackson said.
“As long as Aunt Hy doesn’t hit anything on the way over.” Mack elbowed Jackson’s foot off the console.
“What? Like you did?” Jackson shot back.
“Touché.”
+++
“What? You can’t be serious.” Sutton’s stomach took a flying leap to flail on the floor. “How did it happen?”
Clutching her robe together with her hair coiffed and shellacked into place, Sutton’s mother paced in front of the twin bed Sutton had slept in as a child. Her teenage posters still decorated the walls, giving the room a time-warp feel. Sitting on the bed, Willa looked like Sutton felt—horrified.
“Bad oysters. You didn’t have any, did you?”
“I was too nervous to eat much, but no. Obviously, neither of you ate them either.” She glanced back and forth at the two of them
“No. I didn’t.” Her mother covered her mouth.
“What? Spit it out, Mother.”
“You know how much your father loves shellfish.”
Sutton sank to the edge of the bed. Nausea rose but it was due entirely to nerves and not tainted oysters. “Wyatt had the steak last night, so he should be fine.”
“So did Jackson,” Willa said.
“Who else is sick?” Sutton looked up at her mother who still had her mouth covered.
“Reverend Mitchell. The organist. The florist. Several others too.”
Sutton fell backward and pulled a pillow over her head, not caring if her hair was squished at this point. The pouring rain had been unwelcome but not a surprise after keeping an eye on the front moving through. Finding out half the wedding party had been poisoned at the rehearsal dinner might not qualify as a tragedy, but it was a shock.
“Could I have a minute alone?” She didn’t raise the pillow until the door snicked closed.
Without rising, she reached for her phone and called Wyatt. Even though he couldn’t fix things, she needed to hear his voice. Straight to voicemail. She tried again. No answer.
No need to panic. He was with Jackson, and no one was more levelheaded than Jackson. Except when he got a wild hair and raced hell-bent for leather around a racetrack. Oh God. She punched his name with a trembling finger.
“Sutton. Great to hear from you.” Jackson’s voice had an artificial cheeriness.
“Are you with Wyatt? He’s not answering his phone.”
“Yeah, he’s right here. Hang on a second.”
Confined, muffled conversation overlay the noise of rain. Even though she wasn’t going to see him before walking down the aisle, knowing he was on the way to her beat back the tears that threatened.
“Hey, babe.” Wyatt’s warm voice was like an enveloping hug.
“God, I’m glad you’re okay.”
“We’re fine. How did you hear?”
“Mother told me.”
“Wow. News travels fast.”
“So none of you are sick?”
“Sick?” There was a pause on his end. “Let’s back up. What are you talking about?”
“The food poisoning.”
“Aw, hell. From what?”
“The oysters last night. My dad, the minister, the organist, and no telling who else.” Her brain whirred, and she sat up. “Hang on. What were you talking about?”
“Dang it, Aunt Hy, slow down. It’s not a race.” His voice came over as if he’d dropped the phone from his mouth. Then, he was back. “Sorry, Aunt Hy thinks she can drive the parish roads like Jackson.”
“Why is Miss Hyacinth driving you and not Mack? Is he sick?”
“Not sick. We’re all fine and crammed into the Crown Vic with Hy and Hazel. I’m getting a sharp elbow from Aunt Hazel right now. Hang on.” A pause. “She wants me to tell you how much she’s looking forward to the wedding.”
“There’s not going to be a wedding if we don’t have a preacher. And I’m not sure if my father will be well enough to walk me down the aisle.” Her tears were back at the thought of canceling.
“Babe. It’s Cottonbloom. We have more preachers per capita than any town east of the Mississippi. I’ll scare one up even if I have to offer free oil changes for a year. Leave it to me.”
As usual, his confidence encompassed her. She couldn’t imagine facing life’s travails with anyone else. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Are you going straight to the church?” she asked.
“Yep. Listen. Before I see you, I need to tell you something.”
“What? You don’t have another wife stored in the attic, do you?” She gave a halfhearted laugh. Willa had insisted she read Jane Eyre, and Sutton had since used gothic romances as an escape from the unrelenting details of planning the wedding. A wedding that was falling apart.
When Wyatt didn’t join her laughter, she clutched the phone tighter. “You’re scaring me, Wyatt. You are coming, aren’t you?”
“Babe. Of course, I’ll be there. It’s just I don’t want you to freak out when you see me.”
“Oh my God, did you wake up with a face tattoo or something? I’m going to kill Mack.”
His laughter throttled her panic down to second gear. “No. But the reason we’re all stuffed in the Crown Vic with the aunts is because we had a little bit of an accident in Mack’s truck. Everyone is fine, but my eye is a little swollen.”
“Oh sweetie. I’m so sorry. I don’t care what you look like as long as you’re waiting for me at the altar.”
“I’ll be there. Don’t worry. We have time to get it all figured out.”
She let out a breath. He was right. They’d figure it out together. “See you soon.”
“You know it.”
They disconnected. Sutton sat up and readjusted her thinking. Her wedding wasn’t going to be perfect, but that wasn’t what was important anyway. All that mattered is that at the end of the day, she and Wyatt were together. That’s what she’d focus on.
She opened the door and found Willa leaning against the wall while her mother paced the hall. “Wyatt and the boys are on the way to the church. He’s going to find a replacement preacher.”
“You’re not going to cancel?”
“I don’t want to cancel, Mother. I don’t care if everything isn’t perfect, I just want to get married to Wyatt.”
Her mother’s lips compressed and she nodded. “Then we’ll make it happen.”
Sutton gave her mother a hug, resting her forehead on her shoulder. Yes, she was a grown woman with her own business and a burgeoning design studio, but having her mother’s support and strength behind her meant more than she could put into words.
“Where’s Maggie?”
“She’s steaming your dress,” her mother said.
Sutton headed toward the spare bedroom they were using as a dressing room. Her sensible sister was kneeling and steaming the wrinkles out of the hem of the wedding dress. Her brown hair was in loose curls instead of her usual ponytail. She looked up as Sutton walked in.
Something must have shown on Sutton’s face, because Maggie rose and propped her hands on her hips. “I know things seem dire, but we’re going to have a good laugh about this someday.”
Sutton garbled out a tear-filled laugh. “You think?”
“For sure. You wanted a memorable wedding. This will talked about for decades to come, so score. Are you ready to put this gorgeous concoction on your body?”
Sutton and Maggie had grown closer over the last months. Maybe Sutton had softened because of Wyatt or maybe it was a progression of growing up, but doors that had once been closed due to natural sibling rivalry opened, and Sutton couldn’t be more grateful to have Maggie in her corner.
Sutton had designed and made her wedding dress and the bridesmaid dresses Maggie and Willa would wear. Her wedding dress had a full skirt and tight bodice with a sweetheart neckline and cap sleeves. It was straight out of a Disney movie.
The bridesmaid’s dresses were less traditional and more like cocktail dresses. Willa and Maggie both made excellent models and Sutton designed something they actually could wear again—midnight blue, knee length, and sexy.
The next half hour was spent getting dressed, and their laughter returned a sense of normalcy, even though the rain continued to pound the roof. Sutton kept a picture of Wyatt waiting for her at the front of the church in her mind’s eye and her optimism crept out of the cellar.
The ringing of the doorbell and a commotion echoed from the marble entry of the Mize family home and stilled all three of them. A premonition sent Sutton running for the stairs.
All four Abbott brothers in tuxedos and two Abbott aunts in their Sunday best milled around. Wyatt, his back to Sutton, had his head close to her mother in conversation. What else could have possibly gone wrong?
She fisted her skirts and tackled the steps. Her mother saw her first. “Sutton, no! It’s bad luck to be seen before the wedding.”
“We’ve already had all the bad luck we can handle, haven’t we?”
Everyone quieted and with everyone’s gaze upon her, she dropped her skirts and slowed. Wyatt stepped forward.
She gasped and stopped two steps up. All she could manage was a whispered, “Your poor face.”
His grin was off-kilter because of the swelling. “I think it gives me a roguish charm, no?”
It looked painful. She brushed her fingertips lightly across his forehead above the cut on along his eyebrow. Her chin wobbled and the tears she’d been holding back all morning finally broke free.
His smile disappeared. He lifted her off the step and carried her into her father’s office. “I’m sorry our wedding day hasn’t turned out perfect. Because you deserve perfect.”
She buried her face in his neck. “I’m not crying because of the rain or the food poisoning. You’re hurt.”
His arms tightened around her, and she could feel his smile. Sure enough, when she looked up, his smile was so tender, she found herself smiling back.
“This is only one day out of thousands we’ll have together. You know that, right?” He wrapped his hand around her nape, and she didn’t even care if he messed up her hair. Their photographer was sick anyway.
“I know and I’m grateful I get to spend thousands of more days with you.” She leaned in to lay the gentlest of kisses on his mouth. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but why aren’t you at the church?”
A grimace replaced his smile and his gaze streaked off to the side. “Yeah, about the church.”
She stepped back. “Did lightning strike it down? Did an earthquake swallow it up? Is this an omen from God?”
“Nothing so dramatic. Apparently, the wind knocked out power sometime last night. They’re working on getting it restored, but it might take a couple of hours or more and with no air-conditioning, it’s miserable inside.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It gets worse. The food.”
The plan had been to move into the church’s main hall for the buffet reception. The caterer had the food ready and stored in the industrial-sized fridges in the church kitchen. But, no power meant spoiled food.
“This is like a farce. What are we going to do, Wyatt?”
“I hung a sign on the church.”
“What did it say?”
“That the wedding was cancelled.”
“It’s the only logical thing we can do, right?”
He nodded. He took her hand in his. The wedding was only a formality after all. She was already bound to this man with or without a piece of paper to make it legal. The chatter in the entry hall had gained momentum with Willa and Maggie joining the Abbotts.
Everyone fell silent as Wyatt and Sutton walked up. Wyatt brought theirs hands up and kissed the back of hers before turning to address the group. “Based on everything that’s happened, I don’t think we have a choice but to cancel.”
Hazel exchanged a pointed look with her twin sister and stepped forward. “We’ve been talking about that and came up with an alternative. If you’re interested.”
Without letting go of Wyatt, Sutton shuffled forward. “We’re interested, but we don’t have a church, a preacher, music, or food.”
Hazel adjusted her black patent leather pocketbook on her arm and linked her hands. “I took a few on-line divinity courses and got ordained along the way.”
“Are you telling me you can legally marry us?” Incredulity sailed Wyatt’s voice high.
“I can,” Hazel said in her usual understated yet indomitable way.
“I can play a rousing wedding march on the piano,” Hyacinth said over her sister’s shoulder. “Looks like you have one in your living room.”
Mack put his arm around Hyacinth’s shoulders. “I called Rufus to put him on standby for barbeque with all the fixings.”
Jackson looked up from where he was texting. “Landrum can swing by the church and grab the flower arrangements.”
Sutton’s mother took one of her hands. “What do you want, Sutton? Do you want to get married here today or cancel until the church is available?”
There was no question in her mind. She hadn’t wanted a big society wedding anyway. As the daughter of a prominent judge, she’d gone along with her mother’s plan because it had made her parents happy. She turned to Wyatt and smiled. “I want to get married here. Today.”
“You sure?” As if they were the only two people in the entry, he waited, his fingertips gliding down her cheek.
“More sure than I’ve ever been. This is all I ever wanted or needed. Us surrounded by our family and friends.” She wrapped her hand around his wrist and kissed his palm.
He drew his hand into a fist as if he could catch her kiss and turned to the others. “You heard the lady, the wedding is on!”
The next hour was a whirlwind of activity. Her mother fielded calls from townspeople. Most people she put off with regrets, but a few Sutton wanted there. Like Bree, her childhood best friend. The healing from her betrayal wasn’t complete and their friendship would never be the same, yet Bree would always hold a special place in her memories. Anyway, it was hard to be upset when Bree’s actions had led Sutton to Wyatt.
Wyatt’s mother and Ella arrived, and Sutton only had time to exchange hugs before Maggie whisked her back upstairs to finish getting ready. A half hour later, a knock sounded and the door cracked open.
“Everyone decent?” Her father’s voice was a mere echo of his booming, courtroom tone. Sutton swept the door open. Looking pale but determined, her father smiled and took her hands. “You look beautiful, dear. Then again, you always do.”
“Are you sure you’re up to walking me down the aisle? You can sit at the front with Mother.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Are they ready?”
“Ready whenever you ladies are. Maggie, you and Willa look spectacular.”
“Thanks, Daddy.” Maggie gave her father a kiss on the cheek on her way out the door.
“Thank you, Judge Mize.” Willa ducked her head, a blush on her cheeks as she followed Maggie.
“Shall we?” Her father crooked his elbow and Sutton slipped her hand through. At the top of the stairs, the familiar notes of the wedding march started. Much like she approached life, Hyacinth played with gusto and enthusiasm with only a few sour notes.
As they reached the bottom and paused at the entrance of their family living room, her father whispered, “I’m sorry everything wasn’t perfect.”
A riot of colorful wildflowers filled the room. Someone had commandeered folding chairs, which were filled with all the most important people in her life, both new and old. Others stood along the sides. Most important, Wyatt waited, his brothers lined up beside him.
She smiled and everyone except Wyatt blurred as tears pricked her eyes. “No. This is perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Her father handed her to Wyatt and as if Hazel had performed a marriage ceremony before, she hit every note, her command of the ceremony impressive. The only hiccup came when Hazel recited the traditional vows—love, honor, and obey.
Sutton hesitated, but as usual, Wyatt saved the day. “How about love, honor, and talk out our disagreements until I admit Sutton is always right?”
A few titters and laughs rang out from the crowd. Sutton joined in and said with a smile in her voice, “I promise to love, honor, and talk out disagreements as long as we both shall live.”
Hazel smiled and had Wyatt repeat the same. They slipped rings on each other’s fingers, hers a simple gold band, his made from trendier black rubber since rings were banned from the shop floor.
Breaking with tradition once their vows were spoken, Hazel leaned in to give them both a kiss on the cheek, tears sparkling in her eyes. “I’m so glad you and Jackson broke the twin curse and with such wonderful women. I’m proud of the men you’ve become.” She glanced toward the wall of Abbotts behind Wyatt. “All of you. Now, you may kiss your bride, Wyatt.”
Sutton closed her eyes when their lips met and the world fell away for a few shining moments. Even though she didn’t think getting married would make her feel any different, somehow the ritual strengthened their bonds in a tangible way.
Hyacinth played them out to a rousing rendition of “When the Saints Go Marching In.” The next hours were a whirlwind, and Wyatt and Sutton didn’t have a chance for a private moment.
Rufus had sent Clayton Preston with enough barbeque and fixings to feed them all. As he set up folding tables to form a makeshift buffet line in the entry way, Sutton’s mother sidled next to Sutton.
“Who is that?”
“It’s Thaddeus Preston’s brother, Clayton,” Sutton said. Thaddeus was the Cottonbloom, Mississippi chief of police and well known to everyone.
“I heard the brother was a convict.”
“Clayton did some time, but as far as I know, he’s been a model citizen. He’s very nice, by the way.” And he was, but Sutton could also sense an edge of darkness in him and wondered if he still flirted with danger.
At the moment though, he was in a long-sleeved button-down that covered the tattoos on his arms and a pair of khakis covered by a white apron.
Her mother made a slightly disapproving humming sound but said no more. Sutton turned away looking for Wyatt. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Maggie. Her sister had never looked better with her contacts in and her hair loose and her killer body outlined by her dress.
Yet, she was half-hidden in the shadows of the hall, intently focused on something—or someone. Sutton followed Maggie’s stare to Clayton. If there was a list of men Sutton would pair with her sister, Clayton wouldn’t even make the top hundred.
Maggie had never had a serious boyfriend, and Clayton was . . . well, a man who projected a life lived beyond his years. Was her sister crushing on the bad boy across the river?
Interrupting her musing, Wyatt grabbed her hand, held a finger to his lips and guided her up the stairs. Giggling, she pulled him into her room and leaned against the closed door.
“Finally alone, Mrs. Abbott.” He advanced on her, any sentimentality stamped out by the distinctly sexual tease in his voice and face.
“Why, Mr. Abbott, whatever are you planning?” She fluttered her hand over her collarbone in faked outrage.
“Something dastardly that will no doubt wrinkle the gorgeous concoction of your wedding dress.”
She slipped by him and flopped backward on her twin bed, laughing her head off.
SET THE NIGHT ON FIRE releases July 31st!!
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