Page 43 of Roundabout

Coty

The sun is just starting to lower, closer to the horizon and bathing all the land in a gold-like haze. The long grass has already lost its color from the summer heat, so it looks like we’re in a never-ending wheat field with random pops of wildflowers mixed in. With our cars parked haphazardly around us, and a lug nut acting as my temporary wedding band, we managed to stick to the theme Angela suggested after all.

She didn’t tell me the songs she chose. She just took charge of the playlist and told me to listen carefully. I try to do exactly that as a cover of “Truly Madly Deeply” by a woman I’ve never heard before plays while Angela, Beck, and Marc make their way around Angela’s Jeep, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than my bride.

Holy shit.

Even though I’ve already memorized the striking deep-purple and black backless dress, I still can’t take my eyes off her in it. On her worst days, Angela looks beautiful. Today, she looks out of this world. She is out of this world. She’s my heaven.

With her standing about twenty yards away from me, and our close family surrounding us, I’ve never felt so full. No, not full. Fulfilled. Everything I’ve ever wanted is in this field today, and it’s better than I could’ve imagined. I always knew I wanted a family of my own. I just never knew the path I’d be taking to get one. It’s a path most people probably find unconventional, but since I’ve never given a shit about tradition or what other people think, it’s been fucking perfect for me.

I told Angela all those years ago that I wanted messy, and fuck, did I get it. Our life is a messy, busy, chaotic, loud, dirty masterpiece, and Angela and I painted every single brushstroke together.

Hand in hand with my two best friends, she starts walking, coming right toward me at an agonizing pace. I swear Beck even stops several times just to test my patience. Fucker.

Off to the side, Blaze and Terra chase Jace around in a circle since there aren’t any chairs out here, while Rebel smirks at Hunter glaring at her. Next to him is Beck’s boy, Harley, who’s bumping his shoulder into Makya’s. Brittni is planted directly between Bentlee and Paige, with eyes that touch on everyone.

As soon as Angela and I made it into Beck’s house, I pulled her and her sister aside to have our own little talk. I promised them both that I’ll always be here, no matter what my official title is; that nobody will ever come between us again because we are a family, even if it’s not a typical one; that they have nothing to fear anymore because I’ll chase away every single one that comes along, and if I can’t, I’ll find a way around it like I do every other obstacle put in front of me.

It’s gonna take time though, particularly for Brit. She’s still guarded right now because she thinks this is temporary, just like foster care was. It’s not. There’s nothing temporary about the way our family loves. Just like it was with Angela, the road to helping Brittni trust real love won’t be easy, but I’ve never backed down from putting in a little extra work, especially when it comes to my family.

Eventually my bride makes it to where I’m posted, her hazel eyes never straying from mine. I hold the paper flowers out to Drew, but he doesn’t take them. He just whispers, “What am I supposed to do with that?”

Not having any idea what the fuck I’m supposed to do with it either, I toss the whole bouquet out to my side, in the direction of our small audience. Both my hands now free, I practically rip Angela from my boys’ hold, barely letting them each get a kiss on her cheek. I warned them I was taking her. She’s. Mine.

“Ooh, Ty. Looks like you’re getting married next.”

What?

Angela and I turn toward the commotion to see all four of Paige’s brothers joining the group, Ty holding the bouquet with a shocked expression. I guess he caught it.

Ty chucks it at Caleb, who immediately tosses it to Nick.

“Nicky’s getting married,” his sister singsongs, making the youngest Christensen brother lob it directly at her.

Thanks to those long legs, Beck makes it to his wife’s rescue in record time, intercepting the flowers and saying, “Don’t think so, man. This one’s taken,” then flings it at the oldest, Jesse.

The brothers perform another round of Hot Potato with their sister’s handmade creation, paper petals flying in the wake of every pass before pitifully fluttering to the ground. The diversion allows the parents to corral all their kids.

Beck and Paige gather Harley and Terra, along with their cousin, Diesel.

With Blaze already in one arm, Marc uses the other to take Makya’s hand and lead her over to stand next to her older sister. Brittni cracks a smile at something Bentlee’s whispering near her ear, and Hunter joins his parents, putting himself in view of Blaze so he can interpret the ceremony for her.

Behind them, Rebel gives Karina an exasperated look like she can’t believe she was pulled away from riding for this shit.

I don’t know which Christensen ends up with the bouquet, but they position themselves among everybody else, blending in seamlessly.

I shake my head and grin. Fuck, I love our life.

Angela smiles back at me. “Ready to be my husband?”

“I was ready like nine and a half years ago.” Longer, but she probably already knows that.

“You’re crazy.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Her lips stretch so wide, I feel mine mimic the move.