“Get up, hockey boy.” I pull him up and press my lips to his. “If you really want to do this again, I’ll marry you.”
He lifts me off my feet and holds me to him. “Love you, baby.”
“I love you too, you big goof. Now put me down.”
He drops me back to my feet, and my mom and Brandon hug us both. “I’ve always wanted to plan your wedding,” she whispers.
“Small, Mom. Just family and a few friends,” I tell her.
Brandon clears his throat. “Your family is bigger than the average person’s wedding, shortcake.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Easton
I pull Brandon to the side while Lindy’s hugging her mom goodbye. “The only thing I regret about marrying Lindy in Vegas is not asking you for your permission first.”
“She’s her own woman. We both know that. You don’t need my permission, and you’ve had my respect for a long time. There’s no one in this world I’d rather see her spend her life with, Easton. Be good to each other. And be prepared—because you may think you know what being a part of this family means, but you don’t have a clue until you marry one of them.” He pats my back. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The snow falls around us as we walk to the SUV, and when I open her door, Lindy stops and kisses me. “It’s like we’re in the middle of a snow globe.”
“I guess it does, now get in before you get cold.”
“Thank you for making me come here tonight, E. You were right. I needed to do that. I know how much you miss your mom, but I’ve got to believe she’s watching over you, and she’s so incredibly proud of the man you are. I know I am.”
I wrap my hand around her head and press my lips to hers. “I fucking love you, Lindy.”
“Good. Then let’s get home so you can show me just how much.”
“Deal.” She gets in the car, and I close her door and round the front hood. When I look behind us, there’s a man in a sedan one house down. He’s sitting in the car with the headlights off, and something about it feels wrong.
I turn our car on and look in the rearview, but he doesn’t move.
Maybe I’m overreacting. But something just feels off.
“You buckled in, princess?”
Lindy looks at me funny. “Yeah, why?”
“I think that’s a paparazzi behind us. Just being careful.”
“Ugh, when are they going to stop following us? We’re boring.”
“You’re never boring, baby.”
I pull onto the street and watch to see if the sedan follows.
Thankfully, he doesn’t.
Nothing like overreacting.
Stupid fucking tabloids.
Once we pull through the intersection outside of Ashlyn’s neighborhood, a motorcycle flies up next to us—in the fucking snow—and the guy pulls out his camera.
“What the fuck?” Lindy gasps in shock.
“Ignore him. We’re fine,” I tell her, even though I don’t like how close this guy is getting to us.
We pull onto Main Street, and headlights flash behind us.
It looks like the sedan from Ashlyn’s neighborhood is back, and he’s coming toward us at a pretty high speed, considering the snow that’s already fallen tonight. “Is that fucker taking pictures too?” I shout, and Lindy turns to look, just as the motorcycle slides on the ice and veers in front of us.
I slam on my breaks to avoid hitting him, but it’s too late.
He runs into us at my front corner. The bike slides across the hood of our SUV, and the guy collides violently against our windshield, just as the sedan slams into us from behind, sending us spinning into mass chaos.
Metal crunches, and time stops as I realize I have no control over what’s happening.
“Baby.” I look over at Lindy as our car comes to a stop in the middle of the road, and she screams.
I turn my head and am blinded by the oncoming traffic. Headed right toward us.
In a last attempt, I throw my arm across Lindy, helpless to stop what’s happening. I hear a car lay on its horn and see it barreling down on us, trying to break. But I know he won’t be able to stop in time.
Glass shatters, and the impact feels like an explosion as the front of the SUV crumbles.
The airbags explode, and the last thing I hear is my wife’s scream before the silence is deafening.
EASTON
I wake up, disoriented and unsure of where I am before everything suddenly comes hurtling back to me.
The accident.