Nathan

3 years later

“You look fine,” I said for the hundredth time, looking at him in the mirror.

“I was going for dashing,” Hudson replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you’re halfway there,” I said with an equally sarcastic look.

“Fuck you too… my love,” he answered, and I smiled.

We were both in our best clothes. Him filling a white tux with all his mass and muscles, looking every bit the angel and bodyguard he was, and I was wearing my favorite color. Sapphire blue.

I turned my back to the mirror and faced the man that had been my everything for three years and running.

“You look divine, baby,” I reassured him and rested my hands on his chest, tilting my head to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Nah, I ain’t buying it now,” he said and pushed me away, then smirked and pulled me back into his arms.

“You’re such a douchewaffle,” I told him.

“So you keep saying, but you’re still with me. One might think you actually like my douchewaffle,” he said.

“Well,” I said and looked around us.

Our bedroom was a mess of clothes, dog hair, dog toys and flowers. Not our brightest moment, but it had been an eventful week.

“All things considered, I’d say it’s safe to assume I do,” I finished.

“Oh my God, Stepson. You’re supposed to save that for outside,” Kyle said from the doorway and I looked at him pointedly.

“What do you want, Stepdad?”

Kyle curtsied his way in—several times—and stopped short a few feet from the both of us.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your Highnesses, but everyone is waiting for your fucking asses,” he said.

“You’re a dick. Off with your head,” I told him and he gave me the middle finger.

“Are you ready? It’s getting boiling hot outside and your guests won’t be happy sweating.”

I rolled my eyes and nodded then Kyle left the room closing the door behind him and we were alone again.

The house was still brand new, all the rooms still gave off the whiff of fresh paint, and all the surfaces were spanking clean. It might have taken us some time to find enough cash and rebuild this place from the ground up, but it was worth every dime.

Of course, Hudson’s royalties helped significantly, but so did our savings.

At first, when Jack first passed away two-and-a-half years ago—cancer, died a month after his diagnosis—I thought Hudson would never want to step foot in the farm ever again. That his memories of the place were tainted by his asshole father.

But Hudson had actually wanted to claim the farm back from Jack Bell. Reclaim it and make it his own.

Well, our own.

The farm was his gift to me. He never had any interest in being a farmer, unless it was fruit picking with me. Besides, his writing kept him occupied most days.

But for me? Well, the farm had everything I needed to start my brewery. There was already barley, and I’d planted some of my favorite hops so I could craft the beers I wanted.

The rest of the farm was taken care of by my employees, providing fresh fruit and vegetables to Cedarwood Beach and surrounding areas.

But the thing that took the most time to be completed was the house. Knocking it down was one thing. But finding the right architect to design it as we wanted was no easy task.

We’d been living on the farm for the past five months and every day we made new memories to erase all the old ones, rebuilding something good and beautiful over the ruins of Jack Bell’s heritage. Creating Hudson’s and my heritage.

“What do you say? Are you ready to get married to me?” I asked Hudson, and he took my hands in his.

“I’ve been ready for a very long time, babe,” he said and closed in on me, wrapping his lips around mine and slipping his tongue in my mouth.

“Let’s go before we’re too horny to go out in public.” I grabbed one hand and tried to pull away from him and toward the door, but he tugged at my hand and I landed back on his hard body.

“They’ve been waiting for some time already. They can wait a bit longer,” he whispered and nuzzled the side of my neck, making my dick perk up at the promise of our grinding bodies together.

Oh, he still had the same effect on me he’d had three years ago before we got together. I still wanted him just as much as he did. And I still couldn’t keep my hands off him, which had landed us in many pickle-some situations.

They were all good pickles to be in, I’m not gonna lie.

“Come on. Let’s go,” I said and dragged myself away from him with determination.

We had a big step to take in our relationship. The sex could wait.

“Fine. But you’re so evil,” he said and followed behind me.

We came down the fixed stairs of the new attic and walked across the second floor, past our guestrooms and Hudson’s office—with a view of the fields—down to the first floor. This place had gotten some serious upgrades. The biggest of all being the amount of love that had gone into it.

Where it was drab and messy before, it was vibrant and cozy now. It was no longer just the farmhouse, or Hudson’s childhood house. It was a home. Our home.

Hudson walked toward the open front door, but my gaze landed on the laptop on the dining table.

I approached it and opened it quickly.

“Oh shoot. I forgot to send the Sweet Peaches Pale Ale and the Peanut Stout-Heart to the Beer Residency. They’ve run out,” I said.

Hudson came up to me, closed the lid of the laptop and rested his hand on my cheek.

“Considering Rohan is right outside, waiting for us to get married, I don’t think he’ll mind,” he said.

“You’re right,” I said, and I turned on my heel when my eyes landed on the bookshelf full of print copies of Hudson’s gay romances. “Have you submitted your book? Wasn’t it due tomorrow?”

Hudson raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“And since it’s due tomorrow, that’s when I’ll send it. Are you trying to find excuses not to marry me?”

I rolled my eyes and slapped Hudson’s cheek a few times.

“In your dreams.”

“Then, come on,” he said and walked toward the hallway.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s in a rush now when two seconds ago he was too horny to do anything,” I said following him.

“Oh, babe, I still am. But I also want to get married to you. Make sure you can’t run away from me,” he said.

“Once again, in your dreams,” I replied, and we joined our hands right at the door, before walking outside.

Kyle had done a truly great job.

There were rows of chairs for all our guests, a beautiful floral gazebo keeping the sun away, and a teal carpet lining up the path to the front where our best men were waiting on either side of aunt Mel, who was officiating.

On the right side of the gazebo was the portable bar and the dancefloor for later.

Everyone we knew was there. Yaya. Grandad with his fiancee. Dad with little Bo. Maya and her boyfriend. Summer with her girlfriend. Uncle Leo, Dawson, and little Iris. Charlie and his husband. Luke and his prince. Mel’s partner with their newborn. Julian and Trish with Ella.

And so many more people. It felt like the entire town was there. The town that had been my nightmare—both our nightmare—a few years ago, but which was now gayer than New Harlow. We even had our very own gay bar. Courtesy of Rohan and his partners.

Cedarwood Beach had taken so much from me. My best friend, my mom, my adolescence. But somehow it had managed to give me back a lot too.

Like Hudson.

My happy ever after.

Who would have known that when I was making a list all those years ago, that not only I wasn’t crazy, but that the only person who would tick them would be him?

My everything.

Henry and Kyle stood with Mel at the end, smiling as we approached them.

Henry had become Hudson’s best friend and also his PA. Although unlike most people we knew, he was yet to find his Prince Charming.

“Hey, you two,” Mel whispered when we stood in front of her. “Are you ready to get married?”

Hudson and I exchanged glances.

“Readier than I’ve ever been,” Hudson said.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” I shrugged and Hudson flicked my head, playfully.

Our guests laughed.

It was time for a new chapter in our lives.