A Merry Vested Wedding - Melanie Moreland Page 0,2

ice, and the ground was often covered with snow.

I loved it here. It was my favorite place on earth. A smile stretched across my face. My favorite place on earth, my favorite time of year, combining into my favorite day of my life.

My wedding day.

Today, I would marry my Addison. My little elf. Here in this place created by my uncle Bentley—soon to be my father-in-law.

His vision of a special place, a place where family could gather and be together—to de-stress and find your center—had grown and changed over the years. As a child, I could recall the six houses, all clustered—a small community, as it were. All of us kids running around, parents always close. Sandy and Jordan were never far. Adopted uncles, aunts, cousins—there was always someone to play with, hang around with, enjoy life.

The property hummed, especially on weekends. When they added the building we named the Hub, it became the focal point for all our celebrations.

Then our families grew. And my father and his partners knew exactly how to accommodate. They bought as much land as they could surrounding the original six houses. Created an entire village. “The BAM Compound,” Uncle Aiden referred to it as.

Twenty houses dotted the area. Some small weekend cottages, some larger live-in-all-the-time dwellings. You never knew who would be there, but there was always an abundance of people.

I lived here year-round. I had loved this place as a child when we would come out on weekends. Unlike my urban-dwelling parents, I yearned for the wide-open spaces of Port Albany. The sound of the waves, the endless scope of the water stretching out in front of me. Often, I begged my parents to let me stay when it was time to head back to the city. Uncle Aiden understood my love of the place and would urge my dad to let me remain behind. I could run and move here. The city always felt more constrictive.

And besides, often when I stayed behind, my best friend was here. My Addison. There was no one I liked to spend time with more than her.

She had always been in my life. I couldn’t recall a single memory from my childhood without her in it. Every happy moment, she was there. We attended the same schools, went to the same dances, hung out with the same friends. We celebrated the good moments and bolstered each other during the sad ones. We were always friends.

Until, one day, it changed.

I was sixteen, and it was the start of summer vacation, which meant I would spend most of the summer on the beach, walking the various trails, with Jordan on the boat or Uncle Aiden and my dad doing reps in the pool. Long, carefree days spent in Port Albany. Next summer, I planned on working at BAM, so I was going to make the most of my final season.

Sitting on the beach, I saw Addi come out of her house and head my way. I waved at her as she approached. Her hair was down, rippling like gold in the sun, and she wore a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. As she grew closer, I couldn’t help but notice how her T-shirt clung to her curves. I wasn’t sure when she got those curves or how I’d missed noticing them. The way she walked made her hips sway—she looked sexy. My board shorts grew uncomfortably tight the closer she came, and I had to sit up, drawing my knees to my chest to hide my erection. I was confused and annoyed. It was Addi—my best friend. Why the hell was I reacting as if she was a girl?

She sat down, looking dejected. “Hey, Bray.”

Reaching over, I ruffled her hair, noticing for the first time how silky the strands were against my fingers.

Was she using a different shampoo?

“Hey, little elf.”

She huffed in annoyance. “Stop calling me that. I was six when I dressed up as an elf for Christmas.”

I chuckled. “Addi, you still wear elf pajamas every year.”

“Whatever.” She tossed her head, clearly dismissing me, but her shoulders remained drooped, and she looked sad.

“What’s wrong?”

“Todd broke up with me.”

I felt two things at once. Relief and jealousy. I didn’t like Todd. I used to until he’d asked Addi out, and after that, every time his name was mentioned, I found myself wanting to snarl and spit like some sort of demented dog.

“Good. He didn’t deserve you.”

She sighed, mimicking my pose and resting her chin on her hands. “He