Bash opened his mouth to say something as she approached, holding her bouquet of pink roses tied with twine, but he clacked his teeth closed and just shook his head with an awed look instead. He was dashing in his black sweater and dark-wash jeans with his hair all gelled and designer-messy. He’d even shaved so she could see every sharp angle of his chiseled jaw.
He ran his knuckles over her cheek, but it was dry, and when he traced her smiling lips, she understood. She was happiest when he was happy, too. When he cupped her neck and pressed his lips to hers, she relaxed against him. After he eased away, she could see it there in the forest green hue of his eyes. Even without words, she could see his love for her. Somehow, despite everything, the fates had known exactly what they were doing. After today, there would be no uncertainty about her future with Bash. No one would be able to keep them apart.
“Come on, love birds,” Kirk called from where he was climbing into his green muscle car with Mason and Clinton. “We have to go now.”
“Yep,” Bash called behind him, seemingly unable to take his eyes off Emerson. “We’ll be right behind you.”
“Let’s go get hitched.” Emerson stifled the excited squeal that was bubbling up her throat and pulled Bash’s hand toward his carport. Someone had tied blue beer cans to the bumper. They would probably be destroyed by the time they got to City Hall but at least they were getting that part of the wedding day. She bet it was Kirk.
Bash pulled out onto the gravel road but skidded to a stop when Harrison waved them down. He and Audrey climbed into the back seat, and Bash hit the gas, following the trail of dust Kirk had left behind.
“What if we can’t get the marriage license in time?” Emerson asked.
“Mason and Damon are taking care of that. We just have to get there in time to do the paperwork,” Harrison murmured, texting furiously on his phone from the back seat.
“What if we don’t get there in time?” Emerson asked in a rush. “What if there is a herd of goats in the way, or an avalanche, or—”
“Stooop,” Audrey drawled out. “We’ll make it.”
“I have to call my parents and my sister. You might want to plug your ears if you don’t want to hear them screaming.”
“With joy?” Audrey asked.
“No.” With disappointment and curse words. When she’d told them about Bash, they hadn’t been on board. In fact, they’d called this another one of her questionable decisions, but again, it was her life, and if they didn’t like it, tough shit. They hadn’t liked any of her ex-boyfriends, didn’t consider freelance editing a “real job,” and hadn’t supported her decision to have artificial insemination, so somewhere along the way, Emerson had learned she had to depend on her own opinions to chase her happiness. She loved them, but they were too rigid in their belief of what “normal” was. She would never fit that mold. Emerson slid her hand over Bash’s and returned the smile he gave her. Maybe that’s why they worked so well. Neither one of them fit a mold. They were two oddly-shaped lumps of clay that somehow fit together to make something great.
With a steadying breath, Emerson pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed her parents’ landline.
“Hello?” Mom said in a sleepy voice. Oh crap, it was still early in the morning.
“Oh, I’m so sorry I woke you.”
“What is it, Emerson? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong. Everything is right. Can you put dad on the phone?”
“Dan,” Mom said tiredly. “Dan, wake up. It’s Emerson, and she sounds like she’s on drugs or something.”
On drugs? Audrey snorted from the back seat as if she could hear the muffled conversation. And knowing her heightened shifter abilities, she probably could.
“Emerson?” Dad asked in a hoarse voice.
“Hi, Dad. No, I’m not on drugs. I’m actually calling to tell you I got engaged.”
“What?” Mom asked, her voice pitching painfully high.
Emerson winced and pulled the phone from her ear by inches. “Bash asked me to marry him, and I said yes, and before you go crazy, I just want to say I love him, and he is very good to me, and I’m happy.” She pulled the phone farther away. “Now you may yell at me.”
Dad sighed deeply. “He makes you happy?”
Hope blooming in her chest, Emerson rushed out, “He makes me devastatingly, breathlessly happy, Dad. He’s the one. I knew it from the first time I talked to him, and he knew it, too. I want a life with him, a family, the whole nine yards. And I really, really want you to be happy for me.”