CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

THE WEDDING WAS BEAUTIFUL.

The bridesmaids wore tea-length gray-satin dresses. Sam fidgeted, alternating her gaze between her father and Brad, who sat in the second row.

Brit wore a vintage lace gown with princess sleeves. Her hair was in a sophisticated updo and she cried happy tears from the moment her grandfather gave her away until she and Joe sealed their vows with a kiss.

And Vince? He didn’t look Harley’s way once. That was the only thing that wasn’t beautiful about the wedding. But how could Harley complain? She’d told him they were through. And, just like after Waco, her heart was protesting her head’s decision.

Harley helped Rose and Agnes get guests settled with food and drink while the wedding party took pictures. Rose took her seat next to Irwin. They both blushed. The wedding party sat at a table near the closed service bays. There were toasts and kisses and laughter.

Harley’s laughter felt as hollow as her mother’s Easter egg chocolates. She wanted to leave and was just waiting for the right moment to slip away when an engine rumbled in the garage. One of the service bay doors slid open.

A man in a blue suit rode the monster motorcycle that was Brit’s wedding gift out of the garage. He rode past the wedding party and brought the bike back around to the curb.

“Harley.” He held out a hand. “Let’s go for a ride.”

“Vince?” Harley stood at her table, three tables away from the curb. “Vince?” She had to say his name again. He didn’t ride motorcycles. He was a carrot-eating, careful man.

“I haven’t ridden a motorcycle in years. I used to think it was the most fun a person could have. Freedom and the open road.”

“Amen,” Irwin piped up.

Harley pushed her chair back and moved toward the aisle between the tables. “What are you doing?”

“I’m telling you how I used to have fun, back when I had too many responsibilities.” He revved the motor. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to ride every once in a while. An old man likes to relive his glory days.”

“You’re not old.” There was an odd feeling in Harley’s chest, and it wasn’t indigestion from Eunice’s horseradish potato salad.

Vince smiled at her. Not in the desperate, forced way he’d done in the house, but with confidence and caring. Like he loved her and he wasn’t afraid anymore. “I’m not perfect. I’ve tried to tell you what choice to make concerning your life and career. Those choices are yours to make, not mine.”

The odd feeling in her chest increased. She recognized it now. It wasn’t the wild flutter of young butterfly wings, but a quickening heartbeat of a woman in love.

“Do you know when I feel most loved?” he asked.

Harley shook her head, edging between guests to reach him. Past Rose and Irwin. Past Jerry and Gwen. Past the smiling mayor.

“I feel most loved when I’m in your arms.”

The wedding guests let out a collective ahh.

“I want to share that love with our baby.”

The ahhs got louder.

Sarah had moved her chair too far back, blocking Harley’s way.

“You can trust me.” He spoke with confidence, but there was vulnerability in his eyes, as if he didn’t realize why Harley had stopped, as if he wasn’t sure he’d addressed all the concerns she’d voiced in the house earlier.

“If you don’t take a ride, Harley,” Sarah said, half rising from her seat. “I will.”

“That thing is a death trap,” Sam said, but she sounded like it was an invitation to adventure.

“It’s a chick magnet,” Irwin said, his voice ringing with pride. “That bike got me a date with Rose.”

“Idiot,” Phil muttered.

Harley was working her way around the other side of the table, barely able to walk and keep her eyes on Vince at the same time.

Vince ignored their audience. His tender gaze was only for Harley.

“I love you, Harley O’Hannigan. I love the way you outthink me. I love the way you outwork me. I love the way you take care of everyone else before yourself.” He revved the motorcycle engine.

She was close enough that its rumble reverberated in her chest. She’d forever associate the sound with the newly discovered strength Vince had discovered in love.

He stared at her with loving eyes. “I want to be the one that makes sure you’re taken care of. I want to be the one that loves that baby to the moon and back. Take a chance and get on this thing.”

Somehow, she had come to stand next to him. “I…” Her brain was kicking in, filling her head with protests because she’d been hurt by Vince before.

“You’re scared.” His voice had the deep, slow cadence of the river rippling past the bridge. “Don’t worry. I won’t go fast. Not at first. Not until you’re comfortable.” He wasn’t talking about a motorcycle ride. “Small steps. Together.”

Her hand found its way into his. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m more comfortable with some things. You’re more comfortable with others. We can face anything head-on.” He leaned forward, giving her enough room to climb on.

“Don’t go too fast.” Or her dress would fly up. Or she’d fall off.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Just a short ride. Baby steps, remember? Trust me.”

And she did.

To Vince’s credit, he went slow, which disappointed Irwin but made Harley the happiest woman on the planet.

Well, next to Brit. It was her wedding day, after all.

He rode down Main Street. He rode over the curb onto the town square, parking beneath the spreading oak next to the lone park bench.

There was a bouquet of roses on that bench.

Harley nearly fell off the big bike.

But Vince’s hand was there, steadying her. And then somehow he had her off the bike, sitting on the bench and holding the roses.

He dropped down to one knee and held out a blue-velvet box and a princess-cut ring. “That baby is going to be the luckiest baby alive, because its mother and father are going to love it, no matter what.” His eyes were bright and his hair was perfect.

Harley had no illusions as to the state of her hair. She’d worn it down today and had no idea how the wreath was still on top of her head or how it looked. Her hair didn’t matter. But her heart… It seemed to beat just for one man. Mr. Vince Carrots Messina.

“I love you, Harley. I can’t say it enough.” He was the prince she’d dreamed of. The one who would love her forever and ever. It was there in his eyes, the ones that shone with love. His love had been there all this time, communicating with her heart in secret, keeping her from falling out of love with every setback they faced. “A man needs three things in life.”

“Three things?” She’d only ever heard him mention two.

“Just three things. Pride, honor, and you. Will you marry me, Harley?”

“Yes.” She ignored the ring and embraced him. “I love you.” She kissed him once, sweetly, for never giving up on his fears. And if they came again, they’d battle them together. “I’ll marry you because I can’t imagine loving anyone else more.”

And because his hair didn’t lie, after all.