Page 116 of The Florist and Her Alphas

Ezra’s eyes are bright, wet at the rims, his jaw set the way it gets when he’s holding something enormous very still. Julian smiles at me. Cole’s eyes are wet as he gazes at me, and I smile at him. August is biting his lower lip, hard, glasses fogging faintly at the corners.

I walk the last three steps and hand my bouquet to Mira. Then I turn to face all four of them.

The officiant speaks for a while about pack, about chosen family, and then he says, quietly, that if my family could see this garden today, see me standing in it, they would be so proud, and my eyes go hot and blurred all over again.

He turns to me. “Do you accept these men as your lawfully wedded husbands?”

“I do,” I say, my voice steady.

Ezra’s chest lifts, visibly, pride and love moving plainly across his face. The officiant turns to each brother in turn, asking if they would accept me as their wife, and each of them says yes with full confidence, making my heart flutter.

The officiant nods. “And the rings?”

Cole lifts two fingers to his mouth and gives a short, sharp whistle.

Pepper drops into the air in one clean sweep of green and gold, wings snapping wide, and flies the length of the aisle at chest height, a green ribbon trailing from one foot, four small rings knotted along its length, glinting as they catch the light.

He lands on Cole’s outstretched palm, and the whole garden lets out a breath at once.

“Good boy,” Cole murmurs softly. He unknots the ribbon with careful fingers and passes each brother his ring.

Julian goes first, taking my left hand in both of his and sliding on a simple gold band streaked with diamonds. “My love.”

“It’s beautiful,” I say, only having one second to admire it before Cole slides on the ring he got for me on my right hand. It’s a thin gold band.

August follows, a delicate diamond band twisted through with vines that echo the engraving on my engagement ring, his hands trembling faintly against my knuckles.

Ezra is last, a plain diamond band, and by the time all four rest together on my finger, the whole of it catches the afternoon light and throws it back gold and silver in every direction.

The officiant clears his throat, soft, and looks between the five of us.

“By the authority given to me,” he says, “I pronounce you married.” A pause, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You may all kiss the bride.”

Ezra kisses me first, deep and slow, with a hand pressed against the back of my neck, against the veil. Cole kisses me next, cradling my jaw as if I might shatter. I’m breathless by the time we pull away from each other, and I turn to August.

“My turn,” says August, smiling, his eyes lighting up as he kisses me softly on the lips a little too long until the crowd cheers and whoops. He presses his forehead against mine afterward, his breath unsteady.

“My beautiful pregnant wife,” says Julian, as he places a hand on my pregnant belly.

“My husband,” I say, blushing when he pulls me into his arms without a care in the world or what the wedding guests might think, as he kisses me hard on the lips.

From somewhere overhead, into the noise, Pepper announces, with enormous satisfaction, “bedtime.” The crowd laughs, and I giggle as Julian grins.

“Well, he’s right,” Julian whispers only to me. “You’ll experience a proper bedtime for your wedding night, baby.”

Heat rises through my face as I clench my thighs underneath my poofy dress. “Let’s see if you can.”

The world tips as he lifts me in his arms. One arm locks under my knees, the other bands hard across my back, and he hauls me up against him.

The whole garden goes up at once. Sixty people on their feet. Champagne rising. Toby’s whoop cutting through it all from the back row.

“Julian,” I gasp, breathless, as I grab a fistful of his lapel. “Put me down. I am seven months pregnant. You are literally going to drop me in front of everyone we know.”

“I have never dropped anything in my life,” he growls, settling me higher against him like I weigh nothing, and looks down at me with that slow, dark heat that always means he has already decided how the rest of the night goes. “You walked yourself down that aisle. Alone. In front of God and sixty people. That was the last thing you’re doing on your own two feet today, sweetheart.” His mouth drops to my ear, his voice going low enough that it’s for me and me alone. “Because once we’re out of here, I’m going to take my time reminding my wife exactly why she married me. All night. Your scent during the vows was outrageous.”

Heat floods me from throat to thighs. I press my knees together against nothing, and he feels it, because of his knowing, filthy grin.

“Behave,” I manage.