He rubs the pad of his thumb over my trembling lower lip. “I promise I’ll do my best to keep you happy…to give you the life that you deserve.”

The grin that follows tells me the mushy part is over.

“I’ll keep the house stocked with Reese’s Pieces, even though I despise even the smell of peanut butter, because I know how much you love them.” He fiddles with the diamond on my finger. “I’ll be nice to Maui”—my Indian Ringneck Parrot—“even though I’m convinced your sweet baby would love nothing more than to peck my eyes out, because I know how much you love him.”

His mention of my bird, who is positively feral to anyone but me, has me grinning like a loon.

“I’ll learn to separate laundry by color because I know how crazy you get about mixing them. I’ll let you shower first and not complain when it’s my turn and there’s no hot water left, because I know how much you love your long, scalding showers.”

“Good one,” I whisper.

“I’ll apologize, even when you’re wrong, because I know no one’s more stubborn than you.”

My jaw drops.

With a finger he snaps it shut. “You and me…we might be a surprise to everyone else in this room,” he says, “but I’ve spent years dreaming of the life we’d share together. One filled with laughter and adventure. With friendship and love.” He gives my chin a gentle pinch before lowering his hand from my face. “I fell in love with you as a teenager, and despite the distance, that love has only multiplied as you’ve grown into a strong, independent woman. And I look forward to falling in love with every version yet to come.”

Well, hell. “Is someone cutting onions in here?” I ask, sniffling.

Lyle brings both thumbs to my face, swiping the wetness from beneath my eyes, and offers me an encouraging smile.

“Well,” I say, pulling the folded-up note card from my bust. “Guess I won’t be needing these anymore.” I rip the useless vows in half and then in half again before looking around for somewhere to place the trash. I can’t exactly toss it on the church floor.

Shaking his head, Lyle takes the pieces from me and stuffs them into his inside pocket.

“Always rescuing me, this one,” I say, batting my lashes at my groom. “So, I guess it’s only fitting you’re here doing it once again.” I pause briefly to collect my thoughts. “Most people look at you and see a jokester, or a celebrity. But to me you’ll always be the hottie from next door.”

Lyle snorts.

I shoot a sideways glance at the pastor. “Can—can I say hottie in church?”

“Just keep going,” he says with a sigh.

“Right. Okay.” I cringe. “Sorry.”