Hunter's POV

The morning of my second wedding arrived with the kind of perfect fall sunshine that seemed deliberate, as if nature itself approved of what I was about to do. I stood in my parents' garden, watching the staff set up a few rows of chairs, my hands shoved in my pockets to hide the fact they weren't steady.

This wasn't supposed to be how I felt. Second marriages were supposed to be practical affairs, especially ones happening so soon after losing a spouse. But as I watched the ...