More Than Need You (More Than Words 2)

“One minute.” She turns back to me with something obviously on her mind.

“Hurry!” my sister shouts.

Britta glances at the ladies, then looks back to me apologetically. “I should go. I guess it’s urgent…”

If the crisis involved anyone but Keeley, and if it weren’t her wedding to my brother, I would gladly tell my sister to zip it until Britta could share her feelings with me. She seems ready to talk—or close to it.

“Just tell me one thing. Are you any closer to saying yes to me?”

She tilts her head and gives my question a long moment of consideration. “Since we moved in together, I’ve had days where I think we can’t try to relive our past. I’ve had other days where I see a possible future for us so clearly it makes me want to cry.”

But neither side has won over her heart and mind for good or we wouldn’t still be having this conversation. “And where are you now?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said when we talked last. It told me so much about you and why you find trust so difficult. I needed that, so thank you for trusting me with your secret. But the reality is, you’ll never be able to control how I make you feel. Are you truly ready to handle that? Or would you eventually push me away again, like you did before?”

It’s a fair question. I’m glad we’re getting to the root of her hesitation. “I’m—”

“Britta!” my sister shouts again. “Hurry! Guests are starting to arrive, and we may have a problem.”

“I have to go,” my angel murmurs.

And just like that, thanks to Harlow’s big mouth, the moment is broken.

“We’ll talk after the ceremony?” I ask, but it’s not really a question.

She hesitates for a moment, like she wants to say something—do something—important right now. But ultimately, she nods, then turns away and disappears into the master bathroom with all the ladies and the cloud of hair spray.

With a curse, I head outside. The officiant is strolling along the edge of the lawn. He’s a tall man with crow’s feet, laugh lines, and the sort of belly that says he likes good food and good times. He’s wearing a big smile, a red-and-beige Hawaiian-print shirt, and a pair of khakis, sans shoes.

“Lono?” I ask.

“Griffin?” He’s clearly guessing, too.

I get a positive vibe right away. Keeley did well.

“Yeah. Just Griff.” Normally, I don’t like when other people call me by my full name. It reminds me of my Dad shouting at me as a kid to do better, be better, crush everyone—even Maxon.

“Is your bride here?”

“With the ladies.” I try not to wince. “She still doesn’t know about our wedding.”

He shoots me a puzzled glance. Yeah, he thinks I’m a crazy bastard. I probably am. But instead of saying that, he cocks his head. “Everything will work out. I have a sense for these things.”

I have no idea what “a sense” means, and it’s probably bullshit meant to calm me. But I still smile, shake his hand, and confirm that he’ll be here next Saturday morning for what I’m hoping is another Reed wedding.

After a little more conversation, guests start milling around the lawn, and Lono says it’s time for the ceremony to begin.

With a nod, I head into the house to round everyone up. Britta, Harlow, and Patty all emerge from the bathroom, looking perfectly coiffed. Jamie looks bored and comes running at me full speed. His expression says he’s hoping I’ll have something more male and amusing to occupy him.

With a laugh, I pick my boy up and hold him close. I ruffle his hair and promise to set him up with toys as soon we finish marrying Uncle Maxon off.

When I look up, Britta is watching, silent. She looks teary-eyed and moved. Love is all over her face, and I hope like hell some of that is for me.

But there’s no time to talk now or to find out what’s rolling through her head. So I grab Maxon, now pacing like a madman, and haul him outside.

Behind the rows of chairs, we pause until Harlow and Britta catch up and take Jamie by the hand. I lead my brother to the altar, then file in behind him, hands clasped in front.

The processional music suddenly sounds over speakers hooked up to Keeley’s wedding playlist. Harlow gives Jamie a little nudge. He’s carrying a ring pillow with the bands tied in a bow at the top. We’ve coached him to walk in slow, measured steps to deliver the goods on a waiting table. But he’s a boy, so he runs to the altar. When he realizes that everyone is looking at him, he tosses the pillow vaguely toward Maxon’s feet and darts to the first familiar face he sees, Keeley’s mom, and buries his head in her skirt.

The small gathering laughs. With a grin of her own, Harlow starts down the aisle, clasping a simple bouquet of lilies, roses, and plumeria. Besides the brief, skin-showing dress, she looks lovely. I wonder if she’s thinking about her own wedding, just a few weeks away.

Britta comes down the aisle next, carrying a similar bouquet. She’s wearing roughly the same soft peachy-pink as Harlow, but her dress sits just off her narrow shoulders and has a thick strip of lace at the bottom. It’s a little shorter than I’d like, and I glance around the gathering to see who among the male attendees might be checking out my woman. Thankfully, I don’t see anyone I’ll have to kill. Just a lot of smiling people and couples holding hands. Happiness floats everywhere.

Finally, a slight breeze kicks up, and the music changes. The familiar strains of Andy Williams’ version of “Ke Kali Nei Au,” also known as “The Hawaiian Wedding Song,” fill the air. Yes, this is the moment. Leave it to Keeley to choose a tune that’s traditional yet offbeat. It’s relaxed and romantic and meaningful because I believe they will love each other longer than forever.

For them, this tune is perfect.

Then Keeley strolls toward us carrying a bouquet centered by a giant stargazer lily, ringed by soft pink plumeria, and surrounded in white blooms. Her pristine, gauzy dress has spaghetti straps and a handkerchief hem that flirts with her shins and flows around her with every step of her bare feet like the most graceful hula dancer’s.

The smile on her face beams with how blessed she feels. It’s more profound than any expression I’ve ever seen on her. Or possibly any bride. She might not have waited long for her day to come, but she knows she’s marrying the right man. A glance at my brother floors me. I’ve rarely seen Maxon emotional about anything, except maybe Super Bowl XLII when the Giants upset the Patriots. But he’s wearing his naked love for Keeley all over his face and looking at her as if he’d make a lei out of stars for her if he could. It might sound sappy, but the devotion flowing between them is a stunning sight to behold.

Lono starts the ceremony quickly. Her mother gives her away. Keeley and Maxon speak their vows, light candles, and stare into each other’s eyes.

It’s funny how a few words can be so meaningful. Those same words spoken in another order, in any other context, would have a totally different meaning. But with a few sounds and syllables, bolstered by the feelings in their hearts, they tie themselves together forever.

I’m really happy for them. And really fucking envious. I glance at Britta, wondering if I’ll be full of joy—or grief—this time next week. I can’t tell from looking at her face…but she’s teary. She’s moved by the ceremony.

When Lono pronounces Maxon and Keeley husband and wife, they pause, stare at each other as if they can hardly believe their dreams have come true, then move in for a soft kiss. They cling together, and the embrace seems to go on and on until Keeley’s stepfather finally clears his throat. When they break apart like guilty teenagers, everyone laughs again.

“Maxon and Keeley Reed, every

one!” Lono shouts to the revelers.

As the gathering claps for them, Maxon takes his wife’s hand and they dash back down the makeshift aisle.

It’s done. They’re married. I’m so happy for them.

Since Rob couldn’t hobble up the aisle to be Maxon’s other groomsman, I do double-duty, escorting both Britta and Harlow away from the altar. I squeeze my angel’s hand, and she looks over at me again with barely repressed emotion haunting her blue eyes.