Titus: Book Two of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Fifteen

Playing around with the lukewarm bowl of beef stew that was on the table before him, Titus tried to make his appetite reappear but didn't dare get up from his kitchen table. The kitchen's occupants would keep him firmly in place. Taivon, his best man, would be on the right, eating some sort of granola while Tobias was on his left side. Thrane was on Taivon's side, and Trace on Tobias's. Luther was all the way across the table, sitting at a head position just like he himself was.

They had all woken up early today, all sprinting through the chore list his father had made up until everything for the day had been finished and good enough until after the wedding. They had split up into groups once more to see how the progress for River Falls and Bethany had went and once satisfied, had headed back home again where they had went down to the creek for a bit and then gotten all cleaned up and were currently eating a belayed lunch.

In the corner of his eye, Titus saw something glinting right next to his spoon. As soon as he looked towards its source, he knew what it was. Tobias's engagement ring. Gold and somehow polished despite all of Tobias's outside work, it somehow fit right in with his youngest brother's self. Titus looked down at his own ring finger. Bare with only a silvery scar on that area of skin, it had nothing to show for; it wouldn't fit in with the Cantrell tradition if the digit was covered.

Even though Anna wasn't here, Titus knew for a fact that her finger would be as bare as his, for the bride wouldn't get the pre-wedding ring if the groom didn't. It was tradition – or so his father had said for the past fifty times Titus had asked the man about being able to switch rings.

Letting the silver spoon fall down into the white, ceramic bowl, he cringed as the loud clang earned him a few inquisitive glances from his brothers and Luther – all of them his groomsmen. He could still remember the nervous sweat that had overcome him when he had come home last night after having dropped Anna off at the hotel where her relatives were staying.

Everybody but Thrane had been asleep by then, but his brother had only waved to him, no shouting or disagreeing to be heard of. Titus had gone to the bed after waving back and had ignored the two small, velvet boxes that had haunted his dresser table.

But today wasn't last night. Today was his wedding – his wedding day to the woman he had loved for the past nine years and would still continue loving. And just like that, he couldn't wait until four in the afternoon when the ceremony would take place and he would get to kiss those sweet lips again.

“Jesus,” he muttered, low enough that nobody heard him over the loud chatter they were currently firing. That kiss had been amazing. She hadn't responded, but all of the years in which he had waited and dreamt of her kisses had all been centered into that one brushing of lips in which Anna hadn't done anything. He could only imagine how amazing it would be if she actually responded and wanted him with an equal intensity to his desires.

“You ready?” Tobias hit his shoulder, scooping up the very last remains of his own stew. “I actually bought a for real tux for this – well, that and my own wedding, which is going to be way better than yours.”

“Lil' smartass.” Titus couldn't help but laugh and smack the young man's hard head.

Thrane snickered from beside Taivon, grinning a grin that would most times infuriate Titus – but today, it didn't. Titus didn't know how felt about today. It was a little mix of panic and a sense of finally having everything he would ever need; but either way, it was a scary combination that was leaving his wits a little fried and put on the back burner for a later time when things weren't so complicated.

Pushing thick, slightly long bangs of brown hair away from his bearded face, Taivon looked up at him and then back down at his plate, his mouth looking as if he wanted to say something but wouldn't. Instead, the younger man cleaned his bowl and put it in the dishwasher, grabbing the rest of their plates and cleaning them like a man on a mission.