Page 135 of The Way Home

Off to the side, Bri and Tay sat quietly, catching up. Trying not to pry, he kept an eye on them in his peripheral vision. Bri arrived last week to surprise Caleb and watch Jamie’s bike race, while Tay came in just yesterday.

He was over the moon that they were both here to celebrate with him and Caleb. Setting up the last of the white chairs facing the garden, Jamie felt a strong hand land on his back.

“What have I told you about lifting a finger on yourweddingday, mon chéri?”

Jamie turned to see Jean-Baptiste, overdressed in a cream linen suit, one hand casually in his pocket.

“JB, you can’t dress nicer than the grooms,” Jamie said, pulling him into a hug.

“I could never.” JB waved the ridiculous thought away as he stepped back, his mouth curving into a smug grin. “You look spectacular. And your American will also lookdivine,I am sure.”

Jamie smiled, even as he felt his cheeks heat. “I’m sure he will.”

He glanced around. The garden was ready for the “ceremony”—a loose term for the small gathering of friendshe and Caleb had decided would be their wedding. It was hot today, even for May, but when they arrived back in London with rings on their fingers, both of them had agreed they couldn’t wait a moment longer.

They just wanted to be married already.

After a long conversation about venues and flowers and guest lists, they’d tumbled into bed together and realized they didn’t care about any of it. As long as the people they cared about came, that’s all that mattered.

Life was too bloody precious to wait.

“Mister Jamie!” He turned to see Freya running through the grass in a puffy green dress, her mother trailing behind.

“Hey, Freya!” He intercepted her at the last second, crouching down and scooping her into his arms. She was getting big.

Her head swiveled around. “Where’s Mister Caleb?”

“Well, he’s getting ready in the house.”

She turned back with a huff. “Isn’t he yourhusband?Shouldn’t you be with him?”

Angie pinched the bridge of her nose. “Freya, we talked about this…

“Actually, Freya,” Jamie said with a smile, “he’s not my husband yet. That’s why you’re here, to watch us get married.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “But if you want him to come out here a bit faster, here’s what you’ve got to do…” He set her down, watching her eyes widen as she leaned in. “Go inside and tell Mister Caleb that Uncle Jean-Baptiste is out here with me, okay?.”

Her brows furrowed, unconvinced.

“And mention that Uncle JB looks handsome.”

“Okay!” She bolted into the house, leaving Jamie to pull Angie into a quick hug.

“That was cruel,” Angie snorted.

Jamie shrugged. “He’ll have to get used to it if he’s marrying me.”

Her brown eyes softened as she nodded. “Oh, Lord, I’m emotional already.” She wiped away a stray tear. “I’m just so happy for you two.”

“Oh, Ang—”

“Hey!” Caleb burst from the house. “Where’s Jamie?” he asked Pippa and Mike.

Jamie simply stood and stared. Bloody hell, Caleb looked… devastating. His grey suit hugged his frame, his fresh haircut sharpening his jawline. Jamie pushed his glasses up his nose, feeling his face flush.

Caleb’s eyes scanned the garden before landing on him. Concern melted instantly into relief as he crossed the yard. His eyes raked shamelessly from Jamie’s face, down his torso, and back up.

“Jamie, you look…” He wrapped an arm around Jamie’s lower back, pulling him into a kiss. “God, you look good.”

He kissed him harder, leaving Jamie breathless when they finally pulled apart. Panting, he spluttered. “You’re not—aren’t we supposed to—erm, not see each other?”