Bad Influencer by Kenzie Reed
Epilogue
Jillian
One year later…
A theme park wedding was inevitable, of course. As was the choice of flower girls and ring-bearers. We flew the Sanders out from Ohio, with the triplets and their new twins. I’m a little nervous—whatever they’ve got going on, I’m afraid it might be contagious. Jillian insisted that Multiple-Baby-Itis isn’t transmissible in the way I think it might be, and also the triplets totally had to be there.
And I can deny her nothing.
Fortunately, we have a chapel on the grounds of all our parks, and we’ve chosen to get married at the Colorado park where it all began.
On a warm, mild June day, I’m standing near the altar with Ari and Trevor. I impatiently adjust my bow tie—the Bradford family bow tie, with custom-made matching cummerbund, adorned with Ferris wheels and clowns. Another request of Jillian’s.
“I’m dying to see what the bride looks like,” I say to Ari.
“Patience is a virtue.”
“An overrated one,” I grumble.
I glance over at Trevor. He’s ignoring me. He winks and blows a kiss at Wisteria. Yes, Mr. Tall Dark and Scary has turned into a man who blows kisses. He’s lightened up considerably since they started dating. He’s taking yoga. He’s tried to tell me several times about how it’s done wonders for their—
I always cut him off right there. There are things brothers don’t need to know about each other, thank you. Their wedding is next summer; she insisted on getting married on a certain date when all the planets will be aligned properly.
The officiant summons me. I am aware of each thump of my heart as I take my place at the altar.
Jillian emerges from the door to the side of the chapel and joins her father, preparing for her walk down the aisle. He’s beaming with pride, and her mother waves at her from the audience. She’s tanned, with a sunburned nose. Her parents just got back from a ten-day vacation in the Mediterranean, and next year they’re going for the full month that they’ve been planning on for so long.
Pansy’s sitting next to Theo, smiling contentedly. Her new match-making service has been a hit, and she’s got a waiting list a mile long.
“There’s my beautiful bride.” I smile at the sight of her.
“What’s that on her bodice?” Trevor asks, puzzled.
“Huh.” I peer at it as she gets closer. There are blob shapes on the bodice, but I can’t tell what they are from where we’re standing. “I mean, Bronwyn designed it, so it could be anything. Uh… baby seals?”
Jillian’s dress is creamy white, with a scooped neckline, fitted bodice and a bell-shaped skirt.
When she reaches me, I can finally see what it is. There are cloth photo-prints of potatoes sewn onto the bodice.
She smiles up at me, her eyes shining.
“The design of this dress was something of a mash-up.” She grins.
“You lunatic.” I laugh at her. “I love you so much.” I do. I love that my bride would walk down the aisle in a potato-adorned wedding dress. I love that I’m marrying a crazy, gorgeous free spirit who always keeps me guessing. I love that the rest of my life will be a wonderful adventure, thanks to her.
“I love you too.” She blinks hard, and tears bead on her eyelashes. She sniffles. “Thank God I wore waterproof mascara. Pansy’s idea. Anyway. I love how I feel when I’m with you. And I love us. I love us so much, babe.”
Suddenly there’s something in my eyes and I have to blink rapidly and my bride dissolves into a kaleidoscope of white.
“You big softy.” I can hear the love and the laughter in her voice.
“I’m your big softy,” I agree. My vision clears, and my future looks very bright indeed. All five foot four of it.
Her father sits down.
The officiant clears his throat.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”
Thank you for reading Bad Influencer.
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