Part 12 (1/2)

Jace shrugs. ”This is my wedding surprise to you. So you'll just have to wait.”

I slouch as much as I can in the pa.s.senger side of Jace's truck, grabbing a pillow out of the back seat to squish between me and the window. ”I'm not good at waiting,” I say as I ease myself into the most comfortable position I can manage while sitting up and being buckled in. ”So wake me when we get there.”

The beauty of sleeping on a road trip is vastly underrated. Sure, you don't get to experience any of the sights or argue over which gas station looks like you might get murdered if you stop there, or make fun of weird cars you pa.s.s by, but so what? Sleeping is bliss. Sleeping is time travel.

I don't feel the truck roll to a stop and I don't wake up when the engine goes silent. I do stir a bit when my pa.s.senger door opens. Jace's soft voice nudges me out of sleep. ”Wake up, my bride. We're here.”

For a brief moment, I've completely forgotten why I'm asleep in the truck. My eyes flutter open and I yawn, a big monster of a yawn that makes my eyes water. Man, I was pa.s.sed out. Probably because I didn't sleep well last night. Too excited...

Too excited for...

Oh my G.o.d! I sit up so quickly my seat belt locks against my neck, halting me with a quick slash of pain across my skin. The wedding is today. How on earth did I forget that very important fact, even if it was only for a few moments?

”You okay, babe?” Jace laughs, brus.h.i.+ng the hair out of my eyes. He's standing next to me, tucked inside the open pa.s.senger door of his truck while I'm still buckled into my seat. The moment I see him, I feel tears pool in the corners of my eyes. I don't even know why. I'm just happy. And excited.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him toward me. When I open my eyes a few moments later, I see a very familiar oak tree.

”Why did we stop here?” I say, pulling back and looking around at the front yard I haven't seen in over a year. ”Do we need to pick up something?”

Jace shakes his head. He reaches over and unbuckles my seatbelt, then helps me climb down from the truck. Gooseb.u.mps cover every inch of my skin as I look around. My mouth falls open and I'm not sure it'll ever close again.

”What do you think?” Jace says, gesturing to the sight in front of us.

Jace's grandfather's house, the ma.s.sive manor of a house in Salt Gap, Texas, has been transformed. The shutters are painted, the porch is refinished. Flowerbeds line the perimeter. But that's not even half of what has changed. Clear lights cover every inch of the grand oak trees in the front yard. Purple and turquoise roses overflow gla.s.s vases at various places on the wraparound porch and petals the same color line the cobblestone driveway, directing us into the back yard.

A gazebo has been erected in the center of the yard, right where Jace's old dirt bike jumps used to be. Flowers line every walkway. Fifty white chairs with purple and turquoise satin ribbons tied around the backs, all facing toward the gazebo. It's like a scene right out of a fairytale.

Or, you know, a dream wedding magazine.

”Jace.” It's all I can manage to say, because my hand covers my mouth in the next instant. It's just all so beautiful, I can't stand it. And to the left, I can see across the yard to my grandparent's house. The place I once considered a prison, had become so much more than I ever could have imagined.

”I know it's not Disney Land,” Jace says, wrapping an arm around my waist. ”But when I tried to picture where I'd want to marry you, this was my first idea. I thought it would be romantic...to marry you in the same place where I first met you.”

I look into his eyes and feel so much love pour through me that I think I might burst. ”It's perfect.”

Jace's late grandfather's house is no longer the old bachelor's pad that it was the first time I saw it. It's been cleaned out, refinished and remodeled. It smells clean and fragrant inside, no longer a smelly memory of all the cigars that were smoked in it daily. At first I'm blown away by all of the work this would have takenwhere was I when Jace was making all of these phone calls and arranging everything?

Jace laughs when I ask him this. ”You were usually sitting right next to me,” he says. ”Watching TV or sleeping or completely ignoring me when I was on the computer.”

”You do such boring things on the computer!” I say in protest. ”Why would I pay attention to that?”

”Exactly. My friend Matt is a contractor and we communicated through email for the most part. He was in on the secret and knew never to call if you were going to be around.”

I draw in a deep breath and shake my head, letting it out again in a sigh. ”You never stop amazing me. I mean, how will I ever pay you back for this?”

”Marry me,” he says. And he says it like he's serious, too. Not like he's just making a joke. In this very moment, I am one hundred percent sure that Jace Adams, former motocross superstar, truly believes that I can pay him back for all his hard work just by marrying him.

And I am so, so unworthy of a love like this.

Chapter 21.

The house's bedrooms have been outfitted to be bridal changing rooms. Mine overlooks the front yard and Jace's is upstairs. As I sit on a blush stool getting my hair done by my Aunt Truly, I have a perfect view out of the ma.s.sive window. I can see my mother, David and Bentley arrive. The caterers come next and they're all dressed in black with purple and turquoise ties.

The band arrives and sets up in the back yard. I can hear them warm up their instruments and vocal cords and Jace was absolutely right. They sound a lot like my favorite band Mumford and Sons.

”Are you nervous?” Aunt Truly asks, bobby pins hanging out of her mouth.

I try not to roll my eyes. ”Are you kidding? Of course I am. Not about getting married though.”

”Then what for? I was a freaking wreck at my wedding.” She pins another curl on top of my head, then grabs the curling iron off the vanity.

”I'm not nervous to marry Jace. I'm nervous about all the people. The possibility of tripping on my face or doing something else equally embarra.s.sing.”

”Aww, that won't happen.” Aunt Truly says confidently, as if she's some kind of mind reader or something.

There's a soft knock at the door and I start to turn, but Aunt Truly stops my head with her head. ”Nuh-uh,” she mumbles as her hands work my hair. ”Don't move or I'll mess it up.”

Instead, I choose to watch the vanity mirror in front of me to see who's at the door. It's Mom. She's wearing a cerulean dress, heels and her hair is swept into an up do that makes her look ten years younger.

Just like in the movies, Mom bursts into tears at the sight of me. It makes me giggle. This is all so surreal. ”Mom, you look really pretty,” I say as she rushes up to me, gus.h.i.+ng about my hair and my makeup and my dress.

”Ugh, no,” she says, still fawning over me. ”I am nothing. You, honey are the star of today. You're so beautiful, I can't even...” Yep, it's all over now. She's now a sobbing puddle of motherly tears. ”I love you so much,” she whispers as she leans in for a light handed hug, darting out of Aunt Truly's way just before the curling iron had a chance to burn her.

”Okay okay,” I say, grabbing a tissue and handing it to her. ”There will be no crying today!”

Aunt Truly clicks her tongue. ”Good luck with that one.”

Becca rushes in a few moments later, her face flushed but still beautiful thanks to the amazing makeup job she did on both herself and me. All of those YouTube makeup tutorial videos she spent months watching have really paid off.

”Why are you so frantic?” I ask. I strain to turn to look at her but Aunt Truly puts a stop to that.

Becca looks through the window, and then glances at her phone. ”He's not here yet. He should be here. I don't know if I should call him again. Should I call him again? Would that be annoying of me? Maybe he got lost.”

”Park?” I ask, even though the clarification isn't necessary. Of course she's talking about Park. She nods. ”I hope he gets here soon. I don't want your wedding ruined.”

”Park will not make or break my wedding, trust me. It would suck if he doesn't get here on time just because I wouldn't be able to surprise Jace.” I wave my hand in front of her face so she'll stop watching the road and look at me. ”Seriously, Becca. No stressing! I won't allow it.”

Becca nods, looks a whole lot like she wants to start chewing on her newly manicured nails, and then glances out of the window again. I can't help but laugh. Now I guess I know exactly how she feels when she tells me to stop freaking out and I don't abide by her advice.

The next half hour zooms by in record speed. I'm talking, thirty minutes in less than five seconds. I don't know how it happens exactly, I have this theory involving time traveling cyborgs messing with the s.p.a.ce-time continuum, but there's no time to think about that. Because one second I'm sitting at the vanity in the guest bedroom of Jace's inherited house, and the next second I hear the band playing and my mother rushes through the door, her eyes looking primed for crying, and says, ”It's time!”

”What? No way!” I look for my cell phone but the thing is buried in my purse which is buried under suitcases and clothing and Aunt Truly's hair and makeup supplies. Frantically, I look around for Becca but no, of course she isn't here. She told me she was joining everyone on the back porch so they could get the ceremony started. It felt like she had said that just seconds ago, but I guess it was closer to fifteen minutes ago.