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We exchanged our vows in a simple ceremony in our backyard entertainment area, officiated by Maddox Noire to maintain privacy. The pool fountains crooned the background tune, a reminder of my first night alone with Celeste.
But as soon as Maddox announced that we were husband and wife, I picked her luscious ass up, threw her into a decorated golf cart, and hightailed it to the back end of our property—our family racing us in their own carts.
White string lights illuminate a dance floor beneath a sheer white tent. Gorgeous against the twilight backdrop—my girl’s favorite time of day. Jax and Rena are DJing.
Gage and Ivy went to town on the food and desserts and had an impressive cake designed. They even made candy apples, per my request, not that they’re privy to the reason for my craving—Celeste’s flavor.
Wells handled every detail of the arrangements to ensure both safety and a worry-free reception for us. He even tracked down some historic photographs that he thought Celeste would love—she does. But I think the fact that he selected them meant the most.
And Ty—he helped engineer the best part, setting it all in motion while we were in Tennessee. Three horses, a stable, a fenced area, and we even built her a photography studio out here. A perfect setting for me to press her against the side of the stable, curl my fingers over her throat, rendering her breathless, and kiss her until she’s a feral mess, climbing me—a reenactment of the day when I got my first addictive taste.
For a wedding present, I wanted to convey to Celeste that our home and property were as much hers as any of ours—tough to do since she’s coming in after we’ve all put our mark on the place. But this serves as a memento of the day I realized she was the best human being I’d ever known. Selfless and real.
She ripped open a wound that day at the stables—one I’d believed was nailed shut long before. But she also gave me my first taste of healing against the side of that barn.
Full fucking circle.
After a lifetime of being no one’s—cast aside, unchosen, erased—I found my person in the midst of revisiting my fractured beginnings.
Rooted in brokenness and blooming my reason for everything.
All the shit I’ve endured to get to her. Fucking worth it.
She’ll still pop in at Whispering Pines, of course, but this will enable her to share the horses with the women who come to us. All I want is for her to have a place where she feels safe to be all she is—to live out her passion and dreams. No more hiding.
With Felicity in her arms, Celeste swings to the border of the dance floor where I’m standing, stretching up for a kiss. Since she’s holding the baby, I resist the urge to devour her the way I’d prefer.
Soon.
“Hey there, handsome.” She licks her lips as she drops back onto her heels, a movement that would have been a glorious display of her ample tits if the tiny doll wasn’t concealing them. “You’re looking all golden god gangster. Looming over the room in your all-black suit. Are you planning to make our reception a spectators’ sport?”
“Definitely not. But I want you to enjoy the party and the guests before I rail you in the stables.” I arch a brow so she registers the promise, but then double back. “Golden god gangster?”
“Yep. It’s a fitting description.” Her whole face lights up. The deep brown doe eyes that drag me under her spell swirl with contentment and elation.
After all she’s been through, that peace is astounding—evidence that she was made for this life. For me.
While grief and trauma have both weighed on her these past few weeks, she’s managed to compartmentalize it and work through her struggles far better than I’d ever imagined. I once believed she was more breakable than she let on. She’s proven the opposite to be true.
She still respects pain and sees the inevitability of goodbyes.
But she finally trusts the sunrise.
Snaking my arms around her waist, I bury my nose in her honeysuckle hair, breathing her in before I pull back slightly to deliver my warning. “While the god part is certainly fitting, I think I’m detecting some sass, Mrs. Graves. You know what that means.”
“God, I hope so.” She bats her lashes. “I’m in the mood for a lesson. And railing me in the stables—no surprise there. I would expect nothing less. But I’m still a little shaken that you orchestrated this—that you all did this for me.” Her gaze peruses the gathering—her parents, Natasha, the Noires, Rex, Dante, and our family chatting and laughing in the picturesque setting—as she strokes Felicity’s full head of hair. “If Ivy hadn’t dragged me away from the horses, I might have become one of those blubbering brides. It’s too much.”
I palm her head, pecking hers and Felicity’s temples. “Nothing is too much. I told you I’d give you anything you wanted, baby girl.”
“And you have.” She gapes at her rings—a black diamond, shaped like a spade and surrounded by white diamonds, and a wedding band encrusted with black diamonds, matching mine. “Far more than my wildest dreams.”
That swells my heart to near combustion. She fought so hard against me—denying, doubting, pulling away—that I wondered if she’d ever let me love her the way I longed to or if it would always be a battle. All I wanted was her.
“Right back at ya, Ace,” I say, leaning in for another kiss as a voice halts my voyage.
“No making out while your wife is holding the baby, Graves.”
My wife.
