A Kiss for a Kiss (All In 4)

“I’m glad I’ve had the chance to be part of it. You have such a great group of friends. And honestly, Hanna has been the one organizing everything. I just got the emails and phone calls and messages telling me what was happening and when.”

“She’s been a godsend, hasn’t she?” Queenie glances over my shoulder, the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. “I don’t think I can thank her enough for all she’s done, especially with the number of trips she’s made from Tennessee to ensure everything runs smoothly. I’m going to miss having her around.”

I shove down the brief pang of guilt. Hanna has been adamant that what’s going on between us stays a secret. And I get it. Her family situation is already complicated. “She’s been pretty incredible.”

And she has. Queenie’s mother has never earned the title. To the point that, after a lengthy discussion, Queenie decided not to invite her to the wedding. She didn’t want the disappointment, and frankly, she doesn’t deserve to have her day overshadowed by the woman who hasn’t shown up for any of her important milestones.

When Queenie asked Hanna to be part of her bridal party, Hanna graciously accepted the role. And in the time between then and now, Hanna has inadvertently stepped in and taken on the maternal role that was missing in Queenie’s life. It happened naturally, a slow evolution, where Queenie would go to her about the things I couldn’t help with. It’s been good for both of them.

I bought Hanna a gift as a thank you, and of course, this morning has been so busy that I forgot to give it to her. I should have done it when she stopped by my room, but I’d been distracted.

The grandfather clock tolls, signaling the top of the hour. Queenie’s eyes go wide. “It’s time.”

“We should get in line, shouldn’t we?”

“We should.” She wraps me up in a tight hug. “I love you, Daddy.”

I don’t know if it’s possible for a heart to swell and break at the same time, but that’s how it feels. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

We head back to the kitchen where the girls fawn over Queenie and express their excitement in high-pitched squeals.

Stevie takes Queenie by the shoulders. “In less than half an hour, you’re going to be Queenie Kingston, which is a seriously badass name. And you couldn’t have picked a better, milk-drinking-rule-following-yet-dirty Boy Scout to marry.”

Lainey elbows her. “Censor, Stevie, there are kids around.”

“And me.” I raise my hand.

“Right.” Stevie cringes. “Sorry, Jake.”

Hanna raises a hand to get everyone’s attention. “We all need to take our places.”

“Right. Yes. Places.” Stevie moves to the front and Queenie takes her place beside me at the back of the line.

Stevie and Bishop lead the way, and each pair walks down the aisle with Lavender and Kodiak going right before us. They hold hands and Lavender tries to hide behind him and shakes the basket, leaving a trail of petal clumps in her wake.

From my position, I can see all the way to the end of the aisle. King, dressed in a black tux, stands with his hands clasped, gaze shifting from Lavender and Kody to the doorway where I am, waiting for the wedding march to start.

Lavender begins to struggle with all the attention about halfway down the aisle, which is when King leaves his post at the altar and comes to meet Lavender and Kody. He crouches down and says something to the two of them.

There’s a rustle in the crowd and lots of clicking of cameras when King scoops Lavender up and gives Kody a fist bump.

“What’s going on?” Queenie asks.

I shift to the right. “Stay behind me so King can’t see you,” I whisper.

She does as I ask and makes a little noise, somewhere between a shriek, a giggle, and a sigh when she sees King carrying Lavender down the aisle to a chorus of cheers and clapping.

“He really is awesome, isn’t he? He’s going to be such a good dad.”

“You’re both going to be great parents, but maybe let’s get through the ceremony before you start planning your family?”

She laughs again and then the music changes. “Oh, it’s really time, Dad.” Her eyes take on that glassy quality and she tips her chin up, as though she’s fighting back tears.

I pull a tissue out of my pocket and dab under her eyes. “You got this. Now take a deep breath, because we’re about to walk down that aisle.”

I place her hand on my forearm and cover it with mine as the strains of the wedding march filter through the backyard. We step out into the sun, the light refracting against the beading on her dress, making a million tiny rainbows appear on the fabric. Her smile widens when King comes into view, and I have to force her to slow her steps so she doesn’t run down the aisle and launch herself at him like I sense she wants to.