A tiny rumble of laughter rolls through our group. Nora has already started to freely cry. Tacker notices, too, and he gives her a reassuring wink. She smiles back through more tears.
“What I do know is I think I was supposed to go through stuff in order to get to you. If you believe in things like destiny and preordination, I think you were my end goal all along, but I’m pretty sure everything before you was meant to help structure me into the man I am today. I think you were meant to be there for me, to help me on the final leg of a journey I thought would kill me one day, but it was really just a test. A trial. A means to an end, with you waiting for me on the other side of the finish line. I don’t say those things to make light of what I shared with MJ, because what we had was real. You know that, because we’ve talked endlessly about it. But clearly, I had a different purpose. You had a different purpose. We were put in each other’s paths for a reason. I could go on and on about what that reason might be, but I honestly don’t care. All I care about is you being mine. You love me, I love you, and we are going to be together for the rest of our lives.”
Tacker looks up from the papers. He shoves them back in his pocket, obviously having finished what he wrote. But he’s not done. He takes Nora by the hands again, tugging to pull her in close. “What I wrote may seem silly or like a stupid attempt to be philosophical, but what I need you to ultimately take away from this is I love you more than anything in this world. The only way I could possibly be happier than I am right now will be the instant we’re officially pronounced husband and wife.”
Nora laughs, tears spilling down her face. Tacker tips his head to the minister, a pointed look on his face. Smiling, the minister says, “Then… by the power vested in me, I pronounce Tacker Hall and Nora Wayne, legally and spiritually, husband and wife. You now may kiss—”
The preacher can’t even get the words out before Tacker grabs Nora, dips her low, and plants a long, searing kiss on her.
Everyone erupts into cheers, and I feel wetness on my cheeks. I dash the happy tears with the back of my hand, but not before Aaron catches me. His arm comes around my shoulder and he pulls me into his side, giving me an affectionate squeeze.CHAPTER 20Wylde“Why am I so nervous?” Clarke whispers from beside me.
I look down at her, hands wringing together nervously while her gaze darts all around her store. This is a change—the standing in place and radiating anxiety—from the frantic dashing around she’d been doing for the past half hour as she tried to make sure everything was perfect for Pepper’s book signing.
We’ve been back from the Virgin Islands for a full week now, and we’ve settled into a routine. Clarke is back at her store, hard at work for six days a week while on the seventh, she works from home. I loiter as much as she’ll tolerate, snagging whatever free time she has in between hanging out with my dudes, amping up my workouts, and generally enjoying the off-season.
Generally enjoying Clarke, really.
I can’t figure out the why of it—or even how she and I are working out—but we are. Each day, we get a little bit closer.
Each day, I realize I can’t imagine her not being in my life.
I’ve stopped the internal musings I’d found myself doing just a week ago, where I’d qualified every thought about Clarke with an “if we make it” mentality.
Now it’s not a question of if… It’s more of a question of who and when.
Who will be brave enough to first make the assertion to the other that what we have between us is special, real, and meant to last?
I mean… I’ve done that, internally at least. I’ve accepted the fact I am no longer the team’s playboy, and that I never want to go back to that lifestyle. I simply want what I have with Clarke, and I hope to continue building on it. I can’t even imagine there being another woman who excites me as much or makes me as happy as she does.
But I am dealing with a woman who, despite the fact she’s now wringing her hands and looking for reassurance, still proves to be a little prickly when it comes to issues of trust. This past week alone, she’s clearly been put off when I’m recognized while we are out. It’s not that she doesn’t trust me to handle a situation, because she’s seen just how protective of her I can be when people horn in on our privacy. But she just doesn’t like the fame by association that comes with being by my side.