The Chase is Over - Toni Aleo Page 0,1

But Shelli and Elli live in some kind of reality show where money falls off trees and the bigger, the better.

Shelli smiles sweetly. “We figured we’d do both. It was only $1,000 difference.”

“Is that all?”

She nods excitedly. “Dad said I could have both.”

I shake my head. “Man, I bet Shea was glad Posey got married in a gazebo.”

Grace snorts. “Right?”

We both smile, but Shelli and Elli don’t find me humorous. “Shea would have given the same to Posey,” Elli informs me, and now I’m holding my palms up.

“Oh, I know. It was a joke.”

She just stares at me with a look that says she didn’t find it funny before moving her hands around in a circle. “So, higher stages?”

Grace looks distraught. “If we have higher stages, it’s also going to take more time to tear down for the reception.”

We were supposed to get married at the Fontanel Mansion, the same place my mom and dad held their wedding, but unfortunately, extensive damage was done to the building after a tornado took down half of Nashville. We tried to get into the Belmont, same place Shea and Elli exchanged vows, but no go. They had a wedding booked already. Thankfully, Grace and her late husband bought a lot of land over the years. One of the pieces of property they bought holds this amazing tobacco barn that Grace has turned into an event venue. Fully functional, with a kitchen and a dressing area upstairs. It looks out over the beautiful rolling hills of Tennessee. The pictures are going to be incredible, and the aroma of the place just smacks you in the face, but in a fantastic way. Reminds me of the summers when the tobacco would be hung and burned. It was one of the unique things I missed when I was living up north.

It’s a southern thing, and I love that it’s a part of our wedding.

I loved the idea of a barn too. I was kind of excited to be having our ceremony in a place of our own, instead of somewhere our parents had been before us. This location is gorgeous and airy—freaking stunning. The walls of the building are a nice dark brown, with beautiful, thick exposed beams at the top. While Grace has already hung an impressive chandelier that is all rustic and woodsy, my future wife and her insane mother have added more that will have fresh flowers adorning them and draped around the candles. There are no windows in the building, but the doors will stay open, bringing in more light and sunshine, God willing. It’s gonna be real picturesque and romantic, if Shelli and Elli don’t get us kicked out. This is the venue’s—which is called James Place—first wedding, and at the rate my lady is going, we might be its last.

“But that’s why we’re having cocktails and hors d’oeuvres between the wedding and reception,” Shelli says, attention falling on her. “While we do the pictures and everything. It’s a solid hour. Surely they can get it set up.”

“I’m going to need to hire more people for the teardown,” Grace mutters as she navigates through the iPad she’s holding. “Y’all are stressing me the hell out.”

Elli hugs her sister-in-law tightly. “But just think of the portfolio you’re going to have!”

“At the expense of my brother’s money and his soul,” she teases. I think. I’m not sure.

Elli waves her off. “Shea wants Shelli to be happy.”

I hold my hand up. “Me too, right? He wants me to enjoy myself?”

Shelli laughs once more, the sound tickling my cock as she wraps herself around me. “Yes, of course. Jesus, you’re needy today.”

I give her a look. “This wedding is getting out of control.”

Her eyes widen. “No, it’s not.”

“Oh! Good, I just got confirmation for the butterfly release.”

I gawk at Shelli after I process what Grace has just said. “Um, what?”

“For when we kiss,” she says shyly. “It’ll be amazing.”

I gaze into her eyes, and I want to tell her to slow down. That I don’t need all this to marry her. As I sang at Posey’s wedding, which was in a field with maybe fifty people, I was envious of her and Boon. Our wedding is going to have close to three hundred guests. Everyone is coming for the spectacle that is our wedding. But then I remember the night I looked through Shelli’s book of wedding crap. She has been planning her wedding—to me—since she was a kid. Every single detail has been thought