So here we are.
I'm standing at the altar in my cut over a white shirt—club colors, formal as I get, and Judge is beside me in his patch because he's officiating and because the state decided a man who led soldiers in combat can handle a marriage ceremony.
"You good?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah."
"You look like you're about to breach a compound."
"Feel like it too."
He almost smiles. "She'll show up, Scar."
I know she will. Harper doesn't run anymore. Not from anything. But standing here in front of the entire club, the whole town, waiting for her to walk down that aisle in a white dress, feels like the most exposed I've been since Kandahar.
The doors open.
The entire chapel stands.
And there she is.
Harper, walking down the aisle on Patty's arm because her father's not in the picture and Patty claimed the honor before anyone else could offer. She's in a simple white dress, nothing fancy, just clean lines and her, and her hair is loose the way I like it and she's not wearing a veil because she said she didn't run three states to hide her face now.
She's smiling.
At me. Only me.
My chest does something that has no business happening in public.
She reaches the altar. Patty kisses her cheek, whispers something that makes Harper laugh softly, then steps aside. Harper takes my hand.
Her eyes are bright. Happy.
"Hi," she says quietly.
"Hi."
Judge clears his throat. "We're gathered here today..."
I don't hear most of it. I'm too busy looking at her, at the woman who walked into the bar a year ago and systematically dismantled every wall I'd spent years building. Who looked at my scar and my history and the things I've done and decided I was worth keeping anyway.
"Ronan." Judge's voice cuts through. "Vows."
Right. I wrote something. Spent three days on it, which Blaze found hilarious and I told him to shut up about.
I pull the paper from my pocket. Unfold it.
Then I look at it and fold it back up.
"I'm not reading that," I say.
Harper's eyes go wide. Judge raises an eyebrow. Somewhere in the third row Blaze snickers.
I look at Harper. Just her.
"A year ago, I didn't want anything," I say. "Didn't let myself want anything. Then you showed up and I spent weeks pretending you weren't getting to me." A pause. "I'm done pretending. You're the best thing that's happened to me. You make me want to be better than I am. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret choosing me."
Her eyes are wet now.
