She drags her palm over my back. “You’re sure, right?”
“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything.” My certainty burns brightly inside my chest. Everything in me saysthis man is it.
Del nods, wiping at her cheek. “Then let’s go and get you married.”
NERO
I drag my palms over my lips. “I can’t believe I’m late for my own wedding.”
It’s almost noon and we’ve just landed at JFK.
The plan was to zip it back to New York in Rafe’s private jet and be back by three a.m., but the fucking weather kept us grounded until the sun began to rise.
“We’ll make it,” Rafe says. “I already called your planner, and she said they built in a buffer and can start fifteen minutes late. Tiny’s here waiting for us with your suit.”
As soon as we get down the steps, we fucking gun it to the Escalade parked on the tarmac.
I change into my suit as we speed down the road toward the church in Westchester where Blake and I are having our wedding. Rafe helps me with my bow tie. Alessio procures a comb from somewhere so I can tame my hair.
“How do I look?” I ask, smoothing my palms over my tuxedo jacket.
“Like a happy bastard who’s ready to walk down the aisle,” Rafe says.
I grin. “Fuck yeah, I am.”
It’s been two months since Blake chose me. Two months of pure fucking bliss.
The day after she came back, we took that walk through Central Park, and that’s when the idea to give her the wedding she truly deserves struck me.
We’d get married in a beautiful church, surrounded by our family and friends, and she’d finally have the chance to be the beautiful bride she was meant to be.
A week later, while we were browsing through a bookshop in our neighborhood—a place she’s fallen in love with—I brought up the subject. The way her face lit up when I suggested it told me everything I needed to know.
And today, we’re finally going to make it happen.
I can’t wait to paint right over those memories from the Vegas chapel and create something far more meaningful and pure.
I also can’t fucking wait to see her reaction when I tell her I bought that bookshop for her.
I catch sight of her just as we pull up outside of the church. We’ve agreed to walk in together, hand in hand, despite tradition. It’s a symbol of the fact that we’re committed to facing everything life throws at us—the good and the bad—together.
She’s standing there, radiant in her wedding dress, the white fabric flowing around her like she’s floating.
She looks like a fucking angel.
Damn it, there’s something in my throat.
I step out of the car and jog toward her, my heart racing inside my chest. “Baby, I’m sorry! Got held up.”
When I get to her, she smacks me lightly with her bouquet, but she’s smiling so hard that she’s practically glowing with joy. “Am I going to have to dragyoudown the aisle this time?”
I cup her cheeks and press my lips to hers, and the world around us fades into a blur.
Everything is so right, so damn perfect.
I pull away and grin. “Wherever you go, I go, Sunshine. Always.”
BLAKE
