“I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear to this,” I say, coming out of our bedroom. The pale yellow dress was pretty on the hanger, but I’m having major second thoughts about wearing it tonight.

Ford looks up from the floor where he’s doing a set of push-ups … in a pair of khakis and a navy blue button-up shirt. He grins.

“Is that a yes? A no? A …”

He pumps out ten more in quick succession and springs to his feet. “That’s a yes.” He dips me, planting a hard, heavy kiss to my lips.

“You aren’t taking me seriously,” I laugh as he stands me straight again. “This is my first major Landry event.”

“It’s a dinner,” he says, looking at me cock-eyed. “Not so much a ‘major event.’”

“It feels like it,” I moan. “I’m on their turf tonight. That’s intimidating.”

Ford bursts out laughing. “Their turf?”

“You know what I mean,” I huff, going back to the bedroom. I find a pair of straw-colored heels that look cute with their embellished straps and put them on, figuring my days wearing heels are numbered. Thankfully.

“I love when you wear jeans and my t-shirts,” Ford says from his spot leaning against the doorframe, “but I like you in dresses and heels too.”

“I figured I should.”

“Since it’s a major Landry event and all,” he cracks.

Ignoring him, I look in the mirror once again. With my hair down and curled and a pair of earrings glittering from my ears, I look much better than I feel.

My stomach is still a constant state of misery from morning sickness, a term that’s an out-and-out lie. There’s nothing “morning” about it at all. It’s an around-the-clock ailment that I haven’t worked out.

“You ready?” he asks.

I take his hand and let him lead me down the hallway. Pictures of me and my parents now join the images of him from his childhood in the frames between the bedrooms. My grandmother’s vase joins the statue he picked up in Barcelona on a tour of duty. The house is now a mix of both of us. I love it.

Ford stops outside the first room at the top of the stairs. He looks at me and grins. His free hand turns the knob and we peer into the room we chose for the baby.

It sits mostly empty now, save for a few random things I’ve set inside. My old rocking horse that I found in my parents’ attic. A giant strawberry toy box we found in an antique store last weekend that reminds me of the one I had growing up and a box of old toys that Vivian had saved from Ford’s childhood.

“I was thinking,” Ford says, leading me into the room, “we could go next weekend and pick out some paint samples and see what we like.”

“But we won’t know if it’s a boy or a girl for a while yet.”

“We can pick a color and if it’s wrong, we’ll paint it over,” he grins.

“You’re way too excited about this,” I say, bumping him with my shoulder.

“Only because I’ve waited for this my entire life.”

I step in front of him and look him in the eyes. “I know what color I’d like to use, actually.”

“I’ll go buy it tomorrow.”

“I’d like it to look like a meadow with green grass and a sky the color of your eyes. Maybe a little lake in the corner over there that reminds me of the day we met, the moment that kicked off our story.” I look around the room and point to another corner. “And a rainbow over there.”

“You can have whatever you want,” he whispers. “As long as I have you.”

“You do.”

“Swear?”

“Pinky swear,” I wink. “Now come on. We have a celebration to attend.”

“I cannot possibly eat another bite,” Danielle says. “That was amazing, Vivian.”

Ford’s mother looks at her daughter-in-law and beams. “Thank you, sweetheart. It was my pleasure to fix food for you all. This makes me happy.”

“Me too,” Harris says. “You don’t cook like this when it’s just me at home.”

“Oh, hush,” she says, lightly smacking him on the shoulder. “What about you, Ellie. Do you need anything?”

“I’m great, Mrs. Landry. Thank you.”

“It’s Vivian,” she insists with a kind smile. “Please, honey. Call me Vivian.”

“Hey, Ellie,” Alison calls from the far end of the table. “Dani needs a manicure bad.”

“It’s not that bad,” Danielle interjects.

“It’s bad,” Alison giggles. “Want to go with us tomorrow? Mallory opted out because of some yoga thing.”

“The other instructor called off so I have to go in,” she pouts.

“Anyway,” Alison continues, “want to go with us?”

“Um,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Sure.”

Ford rests his hand on my thigh. When I look at him, I melt.

He grins a smile that he only uses when he feels at ease. That isn’t often. He may feel relaxed a lot but I don’t often see him like this—completely untroubled.

The long table in the dining room of the Farm erupts in laughter. Glasses are refilled, silverware clinking against plates, as the entire brood talks and enjoys one another.

I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire life. The love and respect in this room is incredible.

“Hey, Dad!” Lincoln calls. “Want to go golfing in the morning?”

“No one wants to go golfing with you,” Graham says.

“Jealous, much?” Lincoln teases. “I can’t help I’m the born athlete of the family.”

“Hey, now,” Ford interjects. “I beat your ass the last time we played.”

“Language,” Vivian warns. “There are little ears around here.”

“I’ve heard worse, Grandma,” Huxley says. “I did spend the afternoon with Lincoln and Ryan yesterday.”

The noise level reaches an all-time high as everyone laughs and Vivian chastises her youngest son. When Barrett stands, the chatter begins to quiet. One by one, everyone looks at the Governor.

He’s incredibly handsome in a more finessed way than Ford. Barrett has darker hair and smoother skin and a smile that, on cue, can light up a room. I’m sure he had every female vote in the last election based off that smile alone.

“I have something to tell you all,” he says, looking down at Alison. He nearly beams. “Tonight is more than just a dinner party.”

“What do you mean?” Mallory asks.

“Mom and Barrett are getting married!” Huxley shouts, springing up from his chair with a smile as wide as the table.

The room erupts into a mad frenzy as everyone processes Huxley’s declaration. Shouts of delighted shock and confusion echo off the walls. Barrett waves his hands down, encouraging everyone to be quiet.

“He’s right,” he says once everyone settles some. “I’ve persuaded Alison to marry me tonight and we’d love for you to take part.”

“Are you serious right now?” Dani stands, Ryan tucked into the crook of her arm. “You’re getting married tonight?”

“Yes,” Alison almost squeals. She too stands and wraps her arm around Barrett’s elbow. “Vivian and I have been planning it for a week now.” She looks at her soon-to-be mother-in-law. “Thank you, by the way.”

“It’s been my pleasure.”

Huxley jumps up and dashes wildly into the living room. Ford takes my hand, pulling my chair back and tucking me close under his arm as we walk through the house and into the converted space.

“Your brother just decided to get married today? Who does that?” I laugh.

He looks at me curiously. “That’s not so crazy, is it?”

“It’s totally crazy,” I laugh.

“Do you think it’s a bad thing?”

“No,” I gush. “I think it’s seriously sweet. I just expected a big wedding or something. He’s the Governor, after all.”

While we were eating, it’s obvious a team of people were transforming the living room into a mini-wedding chapel. There are flowers, all white, in vases around the room. A little podium has been brought in and a table placed behind it with two tall pink candles. The furniture has been pushed to the side for us to sit and watch Barrett and Alison say “I do.”

I’m in shock at how laidback this is for a family as sophisticated as the Landry’s. It’s a simple elegance, an unassumingly beautiful backdrop to such a significant moment in this family’s history.

As Ford and I sit on the couch beside Camilla, we watch the family get situated in two rows, both facing the center of the room.

Mallory catches my eye and smiles. There’s something in the air tonight that’s truly special and I know she feels it too. She takes Graham’s hand in hers and places them on her lap. He turns and kisses her on the forehead, and I almost swoon.

“Hey,” Ford whispers, nudging me gently with his shoulder. “Was this enough of an event for you?”

“Did you know about this?” I giggle.

“It’s funny what people tell you when Lincoln liquors you up with tequila,” he laughs. “This was one of Barrett’s admissions on the way home from The Gold Room. They were trying to set it up then.” He says the last two words a little more pointedly, glancing over my shoulder at Camilla.

“Don’t go there,” she says through clenched teeth.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, then turns to me and winks.

A man comes in from a doorway on the other side of the room and stands beside the podium. Barrett and Alison take their places in front of him with Huxley at his mother’s side.

Hux bounces on the balls of his feet, a small box in each hand. He looks at Barrett with such adoration, it brings tears to my eyes.

In just a few minutes, the pastor asks who is giving Alison away. Huxley steps forward, clearing his throat, and accepts that responsibility. Barrett squats down, has a quiet, private conversation with Hux, a smile on both of their faces. They shake hands before Barrett stands and takes Alison’s.

There’s not a dry eye in the house. Vivian has a handkerchief dotting her eyes with Harris looking on with such pride I think he’s going to burst. It’s an incredible moment with an incredible family—a large, loving, remarkable family that is as simple as they are complicated.

Standard vows are read and Alison is declared to be Mrs. Barrett Landry in just a few short minutes. As Barrett lays a kiss heavier than I would expect on his new bride, the family erupts in cheers and hugs.

I lean my head against Ford, his muscled shoulder moving so he can wrap his arm around me. He glances down, his eyes filled with emotion. He doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to. I feel the same way I see in his eyes.

“That was beautiful,” Vivian gushes, getting to her feet and swatting Barrett away. She takes Alison at arm’s length. “I want to be the first to welcome you into the family, Alison.”

“Thank you,” Alison grins. “I know that was quick and to the point, but I already have everything I want. And I didn’t want to have a stuffy event with a bunch of senators’ wives,” she cringes.

“Thank God for that,” Vivian laughs.

“I have one more announcement,” Barrett says, clearing his throat. “Hey, Hux. Where are you, buddy?”

His new step-son races in the room from the kitchen, a cookie hanging out of his mouth. “Yeah?”

Barrett stands in front of him, holding out a piece of paper. Alison steps to Barrett’s side, this time her face awash with more emotion than ever before. Vivian hands her a tissue as Alison latches on to Barrett’s arm.

“I want you to read this,” Barrett says, handing the paper to the child.

Huxley takes it. The cookie falls from his lip as his head snaps up to Barrett’s. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Like, really, really?”

“Like, really, really,” Barrett smiles.

Huxley launches himself into Barrett’s arms. Alison embraces them both, her arms enclosing the two men in her life. It’s a sight to see, even though I have no idea what was on that paper.

The family is quiet, watching something unfold in front of us. Vivian and Harris arrive in the center of the room and the five of them have a quiet conversation.

“What did the paper say?” I whisper to Ford.

“He’s adopting him,” Ford tells me. “His biological father signed his rights away.”

My vision now blurs as I watch Harris come away with a smile reminiscent of Ford’s. His eyes shine with pride, of course, but maybe something else. Maybe of a job well done. Harris Landry may have made millions of dollars in real estate over his lifetime, but his greatest accomplishment is his children.

Barrett looks at Ford. With a raise of his brow, he leads Alison and Huxley off to the side. Much to my surprise, Ford untangles my arm from around his waist and stands.

The room quiets again. I look at Mallory, then at Sienna, and they’re both looking at me with huge smiles.

My heart starts to race as I realize Ford hasn’t moved. He hasn’t disappeared to the bathroom as I expected, nor has he ventured into the kitchen for a second slice of apple pie. Instead, he’s standing in front of me, ignoring his family’s whispers, and waiting for my reaction.

“Ford?” I ask.

His eyes are sober, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he bends on one knee. I gasp, grabbing Camilla’s hand and squeezing it for dear life.

“Ellie,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’ve loved you since the day I first saw you. You were wearing jeans with the right knee out and a grey shirt that hung off your shoulder. You had mud everywhere and a fishing pole on the ground next to you.”

I vaguely hear his family chuckle, but I’m too focused on the gorgeous man in front of me to mind. I take his hand and place my thumb over the star in the crook of his fingers.

“I swore to myself if God ever gave me another chance with you, I wouldn’t blow it. That I’d do everything in my power to take care of you and love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

My hand touches the side of his face as the heat of my tears slides down my cheeks.

“A few weeks ago, I talked to your father.”

Just the mention of him causes my heart to flex in my chest. My bottom lip begins to tremble and I can barely see him through the onslaught of waterworks.

“He gave me permission, and his blessing, to ask you to be my wife.”

I hear gasps from around the room, but all I can do is watch the man in front of me, on his knee, telling me he did the one thing that matters. He thought of it all.

“It would be the biggest honor in the world if you would be Mrs. Ford Landry.”

“Yes,” I whisper. I don’t think twice about it. I don’t overthink it or reconsider. I just go with my gut, and that says to scoop this man up.

Ford brings a ring out of his pocket. A large but not gaudy diamond sits in a gold band encrusted with tiny diamonds. It’s simple and elegant and something I’d pick myself if I had the choice and resources.

“The diamonds around the edges are from your mother’s ring,” he whispers just for me to hear. “Your father gave it to me.”

I throw myself at him, telling him how much I love him and how happy he makes me. It’s a ramble, a tear-filled slug of words that I’m not even sure is coherent.

He stands, pulling me with him. “I have one final question.”

“What?” I laugh, wiping my eyes. “What else could you possibly ask me?”

“Will you marry me right now?”

I gasp. Mallory gasps. I think everyone might suck in a breath at Ford’s unexpected question.

“If you don’t want to, we can wait,” he admits. “If you want a big wedding, I’ll throw you the biggest damn wedding Savannah has ever seen. But we have a pastor here and he’s in possession of a wedding license we can sign …”

I search his eyes. I have no fear, no second thoughts—nothing but a smile on my face. “Yes. Let’s get married. Tonight.”

We take our positions in front of the podium to the cheers of the Landry family behind us. We sign our names to the marriage application and then hold hands as he reads from the Bible.

Our vows are repeated simply, easily, just like our relationship. And in a few minutes, we, too, are pronounced husband and wife.

The family nearly attacks us with hugs, kisses, and tears of joy. I’m welcomed to the family by promises of love, offers of goodwill, and warnings to prepare to fight over pie at Thanksgiving.

It’s simply one of the best moments of my entire life.

After everyone moves back into the kitchen, with Lincoln suggesting they break out the tequila, I finally make my way to Alison.

“I’m sorry we just butted in on your wedding,” I say.

She tosses me a wink. “Ford ran it by us before he did it,” she laughs. “We thought it would be fun to share an anniversary with you.” Pulling me into a hug, she grins. “Congratulations, Mrs. Landry.”

“Wow,” I say, trying to wrap my head around that. “I mean, to you too. But doesn’t that sound …”

“Amazing?” she offers.

“Amazing,” I concur.

It’s in this moment with this family, my family, that I realize I’m truly going to be okay. That the best things in life come when you take a chance and do things because they simply make you smile.

I look at Ford, my new husband, talking quietly with his father. It’s a simple scene—two men talking with glasses in their hands. My cheeks split as I feel my chest warm in a happiness that I can barely contain.

“What are you thinking about?” Danielle asks, coming up beside me. “You have a pretty serious look on your face.”

I tear my eyes away from Ford and look at her. I shrug. “Just how I need to remember that when storms roll in, how beautiful the rainbow is going to be.”