Page 54 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

The Night

Cross POV

The bouquet flew high, and Cross was already closing the distance between him and his new bride before anyone even caught the flowers. Catherine—in her blush-colored wedding gown fit for a queen—saw him coming her way.

She tossed back her head with a laugh. A few—or a couple of hundred—of their guests saw him cutting across the dance floor, and they laughed, too.

He had warned Catherine, after all. Hell, he warned anybody who dared to listen to him throughout their very large, and very long, reception.

Once she tossed those flowers, it was done.

They were out of there.

The first dance was long over, just like the four course meal, and cake cutting. He had held back from smearing cake in Catherine’s face after she painted his with icing, but only barely. She looked far too beautiful to be doing that, anyway.

He had made sure to give their guests a bit of a show when he had to collect Catherine’s garter, and toss it into a waiting crowd of single men.

Yes, they had certainly made sure their guests were properly entertained, fed, and satisfied. The Donati and Marcello union had been—by far—one of the biggest events in the city over the last decade. No expense was spared, and they had not disappointed.

But now it was over.

And Cross was done.

Cross caught Catherine around the waist with one arm. In one swift, easy pull, he had her lifted from the floor, and tossed over his shoulder. Cheers, hollers, and whoops echoed out from behind them as Cross headed for the front entrance of the Waldorf Astoria hotel.

The crinoline of Catherine’s dress flew all around them as she kicked her legs. Her laughter was a teasing, breathless whisper in his ear. She smacked his back with her palm.

“What do you think you are doing?” she asked.

“Getting us out of here. It’s the only way I can, apparently.”

People kept dragging her away all night.

“I can walk, you know!”

“Cool fact.”

Catherine laughed again. “You have to let us say goodbye, Cross.”

“Babe, we have been saying goodbye all damn night. We are leaving. Now.”

People rushed ahead of them. Some were still shouting, cheering, and going on in their way. They filled up the entrance, and flooded out the doors onto the front steps. Of course, they left a clean walkway for Cross to walk straight through.

Outside, his and Catherine’s families waited. Only then did he hoist her off his shoulder, and set her to the ground.

“Have a good trip,” Dante told Catherine. Then, the man looked at Cross. “And you …”

“Hmm?”

Dante smiled. “You lasted longer in there than I thought you would.”

Cross laughed, and took the hand that Dante offered. The two shook hands, before Dante clapped him on the shoulder.

Shit wasn’t perfect with them.

It was going to take time.

Cross was willing to make time, though.