Page 325 of Manhattan Bossholes

The bridesmaids—Cora, Chloe, Piper, and Bonnie—came next, followed by the maid of honor, Stacy, each of them dressed in the emerald green Natasha had chosen for today. She’d jokingly said it was a color that complimented the dark, broody stare I always wore whenever the wedding planner consulted me on mundane decisions. I didn’t care what shade of silver the table settings were or how the napkins were folded for dinner service. All I’d cared about was that Natasha was the happiest woman on earth when she walked down the aisle today.

And then suddenly the music shifted into something familiar, something that stirred emotion in my chest, and my breath caught in my throat as Natasha filled the doorway. Backed by soft lighting, she glowed in her soft silk and floral lace. Aiden was right. The moment I laid eyes on her, everything else disappeared. Each face in the crowd blurred until they were unrecognizable. My hearing narrowed to the rush of my heartbeat. The only thing that mattered was that smile. That beautiful, perfect, glorious smile I would work every day to keep on her face. My gaze traveled over that delicate white lace to where Natasha’s arm was hooked through Nana Dee’s.

The day Natasha had asked Dee to walk her down the aisle to give her away, Dee had burst into tears. Now, though, she was grinning like she’d been given the best news on earth.

Weight gathered behind my eyes. I’d told myself I wouldn’t stand up here and cry, especially not before we’d even gotten to the vows, but I wasn’t sure that was a promise I could keep. A year ago, we’d been wheeling Dee off to surgery, facing down all the unknowns.

And now we were here.

All of us.

Together.

I swallowed hard as Dee laid Natasha’s hand in mine. I could hardly get the words out, hardly follow what the minister was saying until “Do you take this woman…”

I locked eyes with Natasha. My forever. “I do.”

“And now, ladies…” the DJ announced from the corner of the massive reception hall. The room had been transformed to accommodate a bar, a photo booth, and dozens of tables and chairs around a dance floor. “Get yourselves out here because the bride is about to launch this bouquet into the stratosphere!”

A herd of women rushed to the dance floor, including Bernie Branson, hauling Nana Dee behind her. “Bern, this is for the young ladies,” she protested.

“We’re plenty young,” Bernie told her, and the women around them cheered them on.

I laughed as Natasha danced through the crowd that rushed to the middle of the floor. She hyped them up under the glow of blinking strobes, swaying with the music, then she wound up, hurling her bouquet like she was pitching for the New York Mets. The bundle of flowers soared over heads, snatched out of the air by a long, slender arm…belonging to Stacy.

She squealed in delight, and so did Natasha. We all turned to look at Dominic, who just wore a wide grin as he stepped up to Stacy’s side and pulled her into a kiss.

I strode back to my wife’s side. I was pretty sure I’d never get tired of thinking that—my wife. My incredible, amazing wife, who—in addition to kicking my ass into shape—was also kicking ass professionally by partnering with the likes of Veronica Chase to establish her own high-end furniture line. Natasha never ceased to amaze me, and I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of our forever telling her that. “I think we’ve got another wedding in the future,” I said.

Natasha laughed as Stacy and Dom started grinding to “Low” by Flo Rida. “Stacy’s always wanted a cheesy Vegas thing.”

“Really?”

“I know, right? But she thinks it’ll be a blast.”

“I mean, we could get up to all sorts of things in Vegas,” I pointed out.

“Oh, what sorts of things?” she said, practically purring in my ear.

There were parts of my body ready to start the honeymoon. Immediately. “I’d like to tell you,” I said, pressing close enough for the words to ghost across her cheek. “But what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. So you’ll just have to come along and see for yourself.”

“I think I could be convinced, Mr. Saunders.”

“I am very convincing, Mrs. Saunders.” My lips went for her neck, latching onto her pulse point, liking the way it fluttered for me.

“All right, you two,” Aiden called. “Keep it PG on the dance floor! There are children present!”

Natasha chuckled.

The song changed, and the rest of the wedding party flooded the dance floor. Dee popped up beside me, and I wrapped her in a hug.

“I’m glad I stuck around to see my Lost Boys find their happily ever afters,” she said.

“I’m glad you stuck around too,” I said, dropping a kiss on her cheek right before Aiden spun her away to dance.

“Dee’s got some moves,” Natasha said, hanging off my arm.

I pulled her close. “They run in the family. Want to see?”

Natasha waggled her eyebrows at me. “Yes. I really do. But not on the dance floor. I’m thinking we should go get that honeymoon started.”

My body reacted pleasantly to that suggestion. “Say the word, wife, and I will whisk you away to the honeymoon suite.”

She squeezed my arm playfully. “As long as we can stop by the warehouse first. We have some work to finish up.”

“Work?” I frowned down at her. “What kind of work?”

“Well…” She smirked. “There’s a special little chaise lounge I’ve just completed. And it’s desperately in need of some quality assurance testing. Are you interested in the position?”

I laughed, threading my fingers through hers. “Oh, hell yes!”

END OF DESIGNED FOR DISASTER

MANHATTAN BOSSHOLES BOOK 3