Clay helps Leigh step up onto the back of the cart. Her teal cowboy boots, which match the ones on my feet, are so polished they gleam in the bright sunlight. Then he settles in next to her, ready to walk her down the aisle to Maverick in just a few short minutes.
I follow suit, climbing into the front seat, but nowhere near as ladylike a fashion as Leigh because in the process, I flash Tate a glimpse of my black lace panties.
"Nice," he mumbles under his breath.
"Kiss my boots, Starch," I fire back with a smile.
"Gladly." He winks.
"Knock that shit off," Clay complains, thumping Tate on the shoulder.
I spend the whole ride giggling to myself as Clay continues to groan in the back about needing to bleach his ears.
Of course, my laughter turns into one hell of a sniffle when I see my handsome brother waiting for his bride in the middle of "their pasture," his uncle standing next to him and Pastor John on the other side. Aside from Jana, waiting with the breeze blowing her curls around her face, and her man, Bart, no one else is present except for God himself, which is just how Leigh and Mav wanted it.
The day couldn't be more perfect if the weather had been ordered up. It's still hotter than hell, but a soft breeze keeps things comfortable. The wind keeps kicking up just so, turning the green valley around us into some sort of giant wave. Even the air seems to be humming, coming alive. Part of me wonders if it's the aura of Leigh's departed parents surrounding us with their love for her.
Whatever it is, it's all mixing together into one stunning cocktail.
It's perfect.
I sniffle again and Tate chuckles low under his breath. I don't even care now if I ruin my makeup, because the second I see Maverick get his first full glimpse of Leigh, I'm a goner.
Clay and Leigh stand back and wait for Tate and me to walk the distance to where everyone else is standing. I walk past Jana, giving her a watery smile, and stand where I'm supposed to. Tate nods at Mav, whose eyes are trained on Leigh like a thirsting man parched for a sip of water, before standing next to Jana and Bart. He's close enough that I could probably reach out and touch him, but not directly next to me. Leigh was clear that she only wanted her family here--Tate included--and that the only people she wanted standing up with her and Mav would be Clay, myself, and Trey.
I know my brother well enough that I can tell when he's working hard to keep control of himself, but just as it is for me, it's a futile effort for him. I look away, knowing that if I see him--the strongest man I know, except for maybe Clay--start to tear up, I'm done for. Leigh is smiling like a loon through her tears.
Unable to resist the urge any longer, my dumbass self looks at Maverick, and I turn into a big fat baby.
Unlike Clay, he clearly doesn't give two shits if he shows how much this moment means to him. His mouth is slightly open, just a tiny gap, but with each heavy breath he sucks in, his bottom lip quivers. Tears are slowly falling down his face and even though his ever-present black Stetson is on the top of his head, I don't need to see his eyes clearly to know those tears aren't going to stop any time soon.
I sniffle, loudly and pathetically, before soft, hiccupping sobs start leaving my body. I figured I was doing a good job of being quiet, but by the time Leigh is halfway toward her groom, I see an arm coming toward me and Tate's handkerchief being waved in my face.
"Th-thanks." I sob, taking it and wiping at my eyes before blowing my nose in it.
He laughs softly and shakes his head.
Clay reaches Maverick and, after giving him a huge hug--making me cry a little harder--he leans back and presses a soft kiss against Leigh's cheek. When he comes to stand next to me, both of us facing the pastor, Maverick, and Leigh, he wraps an arm around me and pulls me hard into his side. This is so much more than our brother marrying the woman he loves. Both of them came so far to get to this point--but having witnessed firsthand the pain that followed Maverick around until it pushed him to the point where he didn't come back for years and years, I know just how monumental this moment is for him.
I listen to Pastor John talk, my brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law looking at each other with so much love that it hurts to think they almost lost this. I think all of us Davis kids have all wanted, begged, and prayed for the pure and accepting love of another person: not a sibling or a best friend, but a soul mate, someone with whom we can form an unbreakable bond, who will become family. Corny as it sounds, it's the truth. There isn't a single person outside of that who will love you with such unstoppable and unbreakable force, whose whole purpose in life is to make sure you feel how much they care for you and always will. Those that will fight for you, protect you, die for you.
My brother found it with Leighton.
I hope to God Clay finds it with someone, too.
And me . . . I draw in a shuddering breath and look to my right, expecting to see Tate watching Leigh and Maverick being united, but find his eyes on me. What I see in them is powerful enough that had Clay not been holding on to me, I would have eaten dirt.
He's looking at me like he's the one that's found all that in me. I've spent so much time worried that even though I've fully committed myself to our reunion, he might vanish again, that I completely missed it.
I've always known that being abandoned by my mom would make me crave that pure love from someone with a ferocity that bordered on unhealthy--I was desperate for it.
I found it with Tate every summer from age eleven until eighteen; then the void of it made that desperation multiply until I knew I would only be complete with him and that no one else would do. During the time he was gone, I convinced myself that there was no way he could have felt the same and not come back.
However, not once did it occur to me he's been just as frantic for the same thing. He might have had the love of his grandparents, but there's no mistaking what's written all over his face for me to see. He's struggled, felt the searing pain, and known that void just as violently as I did. He fought for me--for all those I love, too. He protected me, my family, and his grandparents selflessly. And, I bet if it would have come to it, he would have died for us, too.
My God.
My eyes widen. I'm still looking at him and missing the whole ceremony in the process: I know we are right where we need to be. Where we're meant to be.
Together, forever.
He must see what I'm feeling--my love for him--because his eyes soften and he gives me a small nod before mouthing the words I've longed to hear from him for so long.
I love you.
Then, timing be damned, I give them right back, feeling that void inside of me fill up, so full it's running over the edges, causing a waterfall of pure happiness to flood my body.
I love you, too.
His eyes close as he savors this moment, and I look back at my brother and best friend just in time to see them kiss for the first time as husband and wife.
- -
When we walk into the Dam Bar later that night, after our group and the wonderful pastor enjoy a big wedding lunch at Leigh and Mav's, the whole place goes nuts. I smile at my brother when he takes his wife and dips her low, laying a huge wet kiss on her mouth, commanding attention.
Looking around, it seems like the whole damn town came out tonight to celebrate, which makes sense seeing how everyone's been waiting for this moment a long time.
"You want a drink?"
I look away from the happy couple and smile at Tate, nodding and leaning up to kiss his jaw before he walks toward the bar.
Maverick and Leigh walk farther into the bar but are stopped and surrounded by well-wishers before they can get too far. They knew this would happen and gladly welcome it, seeing as we purposely chose to go out to celebrate instead of them hiding away.
"You look happy," Clay observes, bending so he can say it low enough that I can hear him over the music.
"My brother just married my best friend. If I look happy it's because I am, big brother."
"It
was a beautiful day, but I meant a little more than the weddin', sugar."
My eyes travel from Mav and Leigh to where Tate is standing, hip against the bar, smiling at the new couple.
"I feel whole, Clay," I tell him, still not looking away from Tate. "So completely full that there isn't a part of me that remembers what it felt like to not feel this way. I thought . . . I thought I wouldn't get this, even with things bein' perfect with Tate, I figured there would always be somethin' lackin'."
"What do you mean?"
I turn, face Clay, and nod my head toward the front door. When we came in earlier, there wasn't a soul outside, so I know we'll have complete privacy there, and it'll be easier to talk to him without the pounding music around us.
I look over at Tate one more time, seeing his eyes on me, and point between him, my brother, and myself before pointing to the door. He nods in understanding and holds up a finger. I grab Clay's hand and walk us outside, knowing that Tate won't be far behind. I'm not sure why I feel he needs to hear this too, but something inside me knows that it's just as important for him to hear as it is for Clay. I can fill Maverick in another time: I don't want to bring this up on his wedding night.
"We waitin' for Tate before you tell me what's goin' on?" he asks unnecessarily as he takes a seat on one of the chairs lining the outside of the bar, pulling out his phone to keep himself occupied.
"Didn't want to waste time repeatin' myself for him later when I could enjoy other things instead."
"God, Quinn, could ya not?"
I laugh. "What's wrong? I'm sure the guys around the ranch talk about sex all the time," I continue, knowing which buttons to push.
"They aren't my fuckin' baby sister," he grumbles. "Stop tryin' to get me all riled up."
I hold my hands up in surrender, my shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. "But it's so much fun to see you break free of all that seriousness you carry around all the time. Come on, big brother, promise you'll live it up tonight?"
He snorts but doesn't deny me. When Tate comes out, the noise of the bar wafting out the door around him, Clay rises and pushes his phone back in his pocket before taking the beer Tate offers him and taking his seat on the rail again.
"Where's mine?" I ask, pointing to the beer in his hand.
"What's going on?" Tate questions, ignoring me and taking a sip of his beer while looking between us, handing it to me when he's done so I can have a drink.
"I've been thinkin'," I tell them both, my smile growing when they both get a worried look in their eyes. "Nothin' bad, give me a little credit." I hand the beer back to Tate while they both mutter something under their breath.
"Give you too much credit, Hell-raiser and you'll run with it," Clay grumbles.
Tate laughs under his breath, and I roll my eyes, knowing it's pointless to argue, since Clay's not exactly lying.
"Anyway," I tell them, not taking the bait Clay's trying to lay out, "I know you and Maverick have been wonderin' if I would bring up goin' out to see Mama again, and honestly, Clay, it's been on my mind. I felt like maybe I would find something other than the hurt I felt when Maverick told us why she really left, but . . ." I take a deep breath and look over at Tate, reaching out for his hand. He instantly offers it to me and I give it a squeeze. "Now, I'm positive there isn't anything I need from her, but I'd like to see if maybe Maverick can arrange a visit with her. I have some things I would like to get off my chest and I'm finally at the place that I'm ready to do it. So, while I might not need anything from her any longer, I need some closure so I can well and truly move on."
Clay looks at me like I've just sprouted a second head. "You wanna visit that . . . woman?"
"Our mama, yeah." I shuffle my feet, waiting for him to process my request.
"What could you possibly need to say to that bitch?"
I don't flinch, his hatred toward her something she damn well earned. "I know you don't want anything to do with her, Clay, but I need this so I can put her out of my mind forever. So I can no longer think about the woman who birthed me and wonder if she might actually want me, love me. Part of me still can't believe what I know is the truth without seein' it with my own eyes. I thought I needed her, but I know now that she isn't what I need to feel whole. What I need is to let go, Clay. I need to let go and move on so I can finally have what they found," I voice, pointing toward the door, knowing he's going to understand just what I'm referring to. Or whom, I should say.
Tate's hand tightens around mine, telling me without words that he gets what I'm saying.
Clay continues to look up at me, his expression unreadable, and for a split second I worry that he's disappointed in me for needing this.
Then he nods once and stands. "If that's somethin' you need, then we'll make it happen. I've got nothin' to say to her, but I'll do whatever it is you need to help you through this. I'll even go there with you if you want. I might not understand you needin' this, but I'll support your wishes."
I bite my cheeks and lift my free hand to rub against Clay's stubbled cheek. "You're a damn good man, Clayton Davis, and I'm one lucky girl to have you as my big brother. I know you're only doin' this for me, and I want you to know I appreciate that more than you could ever know."
"For a long time I know you looked up to me like one of the only few men that would move mountains for you, Quinny," he says in a gruff voice. "You took Maverick leavin' hard, and that made you look at me as the only man that would fight for you, protect you, love you. I think we both know that's not the truth anymore." He looks over my head toward Tate with a nod before giving me his eyes again. "You got three men who would do anything for you now, sugar, and even though I know I ain't that top man anymore, I would do anythin' in my power to give you a piece of what Maverick has with Leigh."
I try to speak, but he just shakes his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. He walks toward the door, turns to Tate, and proves to me just how good a man he is.
"Think you'll find, Tate, you've finally won that war you been fightin' for way too long. You protected her while sacrificing your own happiness and now you're savin' her just by lovin' her. Don't think I haven't put it together and seen just where her confidence to confront this kinda pain with our mama is comin' from. Owe you my life for givin' that to her."
He doesn't wait for a response but turns and walks into the crowded bar. Neither Tate nor I move for the longest time until a strangled sob rips from my lips and he quickly wraps me in his strong arms.
Saving me, just like Clay said. Just by loving me.
22
QUINN
"It All Started with a Beer" by Frankie Ballard
- -
"You're so pretty, sister!" I scream over the music at Leigh as she twirls around the dance floor at the Dam Bar, the two of us in our own little circle as we continue to dance the night away.
Her hands whip above her head and she starts to shake them to the Luke Bryan song playing, her blond hair long since having fallen from the braid I had worked so hard to make now in her face as she puffs out her cheeks and blows over and over to get it out of her eyes. Reaching out--being the great friend that I am--I start to pat it away but end up hitting her softly a few times and only making it worse.
"You got butter hands." She giggles, laughing even harder when I start shaking both my hands in the air.
"You're my sister!" I scream, remembering why I'm so happy.
"Yay!" she shouts, and we start flailing about the room.
"Can I have my niece now?!" I yell and turn to sneer at Savannah West when she bumps into me. I never did like that tramp.
"Depends if I can get mine," Leigh calls back, still shaking her hips to the music. I can't believe she didn't even see the way that Savannah Stupid Slut West just looked at us. Whatever. Wait a minute. What did she just say?
"What did you say?" I gasp, trying to help my brain swim through all the beer I've consumed tonight so that I can understand her.
"You want a niece, well
so do I." She confirms what I thought I heard.
"You're crazy! I'm not gettin' knocked up, no matter how much I love Tate's huge, sexy penis."
"You're not supposed to call it a penis," Leigh scolds, her giggles ruining her attempt at being serious.
"Why? That's what it is."
She comes closer, wobbling, wraps both arms over my shoulders, and pulls me so close our noses are touching. Her eyes as wide as mine feel as she tries to focus on me from up close.
"Because they like you to call it a cock so they feel all big and badass man about it."
"Ahhhh," I say, agreeing with her completely. "Wait, I'm still not gonna use it to get knocked up, you crazy woman!"
"I will if you will," she singsongs in a childish voice.
"Did you just . . . dare me to get knocked up?" I gasp, feeling the normal undeniable urge when it comes to dares being issued.
"So what if I did?" she mocks.
"You're gonna pay for that," I fume. "I bet you get big and fat when my brother knocks you up."
"Don't care. Even if I'm big and fat, I'll still get to play rodeo queen and ride his big, beautiful cock." She smiles hugely and almost takes us both down when she starts to swerve.
"You're so gross."
"I'm drunk."
"I wanna play rodeo queen with Tate. I don't think I can, though. He already almost doesn't fit in there. I start bouncin' on him like he's a bull, I'm likely to really break my hooha," I worry out loud.
"S'long as he gets that baby in there, doesn't matter if the hooha works." She nods her head as she talks.
"Shut up about babies, you freak!" I pull on her hair and laugh when she starts wobbling even more. "Oh, slow song! Switch up!"
"Maverick!" I scream across the dance floor. "Your wife wants to dance on your love rod!"
His eyes widen, but he blindly hands his beer off to a laughing Clay as I spin from Leigh and start marching over to where he was, leaving Tate and Clay standing there watching us with smiles on their faces.