The Truth About Love (The Truth About, #1.5)

1

Jake

I sip my coffee and gaze at the beautiful view before me, admiring the smooth clashes of colour between the lake, mountains, and vineyard. Below, closer to Okanagan Lake, are several large million-dollar houses. The sun is beating down on us, causing beads of sweat to slide down my back and be absorbed by my muscle shirt. Since Cassian and I visited the Okanagan Valley to scope out potential coffee shop locations, I've fallen in love with this interior region of British Columbia. It's home to an endless number of wineries and vineyards, attracting tourists from around the world, and home to thousands of hiking trails and endless beaches. To be able to hold Gemma and I's wedding here is the pinnacle of my life; combining the location with the fact that I'm marrying the woman of my dreams is astounding, and I can't fucking wait.

"And this is where the photography session will take place," Carmen says, gesturing to the grass field before us. Carmen is one of the top coordinators for Quails' Gate Winery in West Kelowna, and she's proving her position to us. This much I can tell because as soon as she speaks these words, Gemma excitedly squeezes my hand.

"Yes," my fiancée nods. "This is perfect. Oh my God, it's so beautiful. Jake, I'm so happy you and Cassian found this place."

I wrap my arm around Gemma's waist and pull her up next to me, planting a small kiss on her cheek. I have no words to say at the moment; I'm consumed by the fact that in less than two weeks, Gemma and I are getting married. We've had Quails' Gate booked for months now, but this is the only time we've been able to make our schedules work together for a tour. I've already seen the place. I've also dined here, had a glass of their house wine, and toured the property. When Cassian and I got back from a business trip in the Okanagan, I immediately told Gemma about it, and we looked it up online. Without seeing the place in-person, Gemma fell in love. We called the next morning and set our wedding date for June eleventh.

Now here we are, two weeks away from our wedding, and touring the property.

"That's what we love to hear," Carmen smiles, adjusting her white blouse. Her nametag reflects the blazing sunshine above us. She then averts her attention to her clipboard, tracing her pen down the list and nodding as she passes each item. "Perfect," she continues. "We've gone over everything we were supposed to. We want your big day to be as easy and relaxing as possible. Do either of you have any questions to ask before the tour is over?"

Gemma and I exchange a glance, and I shrug. While I care very much about what happens on our big day and how things play out, I want Gemma's wants and needs to outshine my own. Everyone knows that the bride is the star of the wedding. I also want her to be happy – I want it to be perfect for her.

"No," Gemma replies, shaking her head. "Everything looks perfect. Thank you for this tour, Carmen. I can't wait until we get the key for the Lake House and can begin prepping everything."

The Lake House is a luxury lakefront vacation rental located at the base of Quails' Gate's estate vineyards. It has five bedrooms, three bathrooms, and can hold up to twenty guests, which is perfect for our small wedding. Cassian, Hanna, Nolan, Penelope, Reid, Gemma's parents, Morgane, and Parker are the only people on our guest list. After several long conversations, Gemma and I decided it would be best to keep our wedding small and exclusive. The lesser amount of people there are, the more we can spend on the food, cake, booze, and location. We both agreed that it would be best to spend one of the most special days of our lives with the people we're closest to.

"It will be lovely," Carmen agrees. "The earliest we can give you the keys is a week in advance. I'm assuming that will work for the two of you?"

"Of course," I reply.

"Yes," Gemma nods.

"Excellent," Carmen smiles, glancing at her watch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another appointment to attend to. Quails' Gate is a very popular wedding venue in the Okanagan. Please, feel free to explore the property at your own leisure. I would highly recommend taking a detour through The Market. It features a wide selection of artisanal cheeses, breads, coffee, desserts, and seasonal wines."

"Thanks again, Carmen," Gemma says. She carefully eyes me. There's excitement and emotion in her seafoam-green eyes; they're practically sparkling there's so much emotion. "Jake and I might just stop by the market to celebrate with a glass of wine."

Before Carmen leaves, she hands over her contact card in case we have any questions that we think of later and want the answer to. I slip it into my wallet, though I do doubt that either of us will be calling her. We've been planning exactly what we want for the past six months, combing through every little detail we could possibly think of. As I'm slipping my wallet into the back pocket of my jean shorts, Gemma breaks away from my embrace and walks over to the edge of the grass, staring out at the view of the vineyard and lake below us, the mountains across from us. I stand here, frozen in place, and picture what she could potentially look like on our big day. I know Gemma already has a dress, but she hasn't shown me what it looks like. She wants it to be a surprise for me. Apparently, it's going to knock the wind from my lungs and make me forget how to breathe. Those words of wisdom come from Parker and Morgane, who are the only other two who have seen her dress. To say I'm not the least bit jealous would be a lie.

Smiling, I follow Gemma out to the edge of the grass and marvel over the view with her, praying that we get weather like this on the eleventh. Weather in the Okanagan is hard to predict, and the majority of people when they talk about the weather always tell me that they'll believe it when they see it. All we can do is hope we're not stuck in the pouring rain.

"So?" I ask, resting my hand on Gemma's lower back. "What's the final verdict?"

Tearing her gaze from the phenomenal view, she stares at me, her big seafoam-green eyes wide, lips slightly parted. "I love it, Jake. This place is...It's perfect. I'm already counting down the days."

Personally, I've been counting down since the day I proposed. But I don't say anything because I know Gemma will hold it over my head and tease me relentlessly. Instead, I lean down and kiss the corner of her jaw. "What do you say we go and get that glass of wine?" I murmur, dragging my lips to the nape of her neck. I take a deep breath to steady myself, breathing in her vanilla perfume.

One hand finds its way up to my cheek, where she gently runs her fingers along my cheekbone. "I think that's a wonderful idea," she replies.

"Then let's go," I say, tugging her towards the gravel trail. It winds up along the sophisticated landscape, which consists of maple trees, large fountain grasses, and colourful flowers, all of which are surrounded by black bark mulch and outlined with rock. Everywhere you look, there's always something new your eyes can pick out. Like the hanging baskets and the small waterfall near the main building. Or the patio of the five-star restaurant.

Gemma and I are spending a crazy amount of money here, but it's going to be worth it. The beauty is inevitable, and I know the food and wine is good considering I've eaten here before. We're going to make memories not only with each other, but also with the people we love and care about.

As we follow the pathway to the market, walking hand-in-hand, I give her hand another squeeze. She squeezes my hand back, and then glances up at me, a smile still on her face. Of course, I'm smiling back at her. In fact, this smile hasn't drifted from my face for hours now.

It's hard to not smile when you're only two weeks away from marrying the love of your life.