Page 62 of Wild for the Knight

He lets out a soft laugh as he looks down at it. “I vow to always be in your corner, to love you like you deserve. I promise to let you pick the movie every once in a while, if you always dance for me while we’re making dinner. I promise to come to every home game, wearing the right jersey this time.”

His smile widens. “Thanks for reminding me, I still need to punish you for that.” He grumbles.

My thighs squeeze together. What a lovely thought. It’s also a thought that has completely derailed my speech. “Uhh, well. I forgot where I was going with the rest of that. But I promise to love you and be faithful to you for as long as I shall live. Oh, and I’ll try not to attempt to control every aspect of our lives. Amen?”

I look at Mr. Preacher and see a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, slow and knowing. Like he’s in on an old inside joke. Glad he’s enjoying this. “Mr. Wilder, your vows,” he says.

Tate steps in closer, bringing my hand to rest on the tattoo on his right bicep. “Tink.” He flashes me a smile. “The first time I met you, you watched me wrestle my brother to the ground. The same day, you handed me my ass on a silver platter for upsetting your best friend.” I let out a loud laugh at the memory. That was a fun day. Well, for me at least.

“For the two years that followed, we did the dance. The constant push and pull, playing Devil’s advocate with you on a weekly basis, became the highlight of my week.” He squeezes the hand still in his, “All this time, when I thought you were purposely getting under my skin, you were busy dismantling the walls around my heart brick by brick. I realized I didn’t hate you the second my lips touched yours at the gas station.”

I lick my lips, catching a few stray tears that had fallen. “But I knew I loved you when you fell asleep on me the first time. I knew, without a doubt, that it was you or no one. The way we fit together, the way we challenged each other, pulling the other out of comfort zones we had become complacent in.”

His hand comes to cradle my face as his eyes begin to leak water again. “I knew I couldn’t live without you when I woke up the next morning and you were gone. I knew I’d burn the world down for you when you called, and I heard the fear in your voice.”

He slides his ring on my finger, smiling when it actually makes it all the way down. “I vow to always love you, to take you on as many rides on the bike, when it’s fixed, as you want. I vow to rub your butt and tell you how pretty you are, every night for the rest of our lives.”

I might as well be a sprinkler system at this point with the speed these tears are falling. “I promise to learn how to properly wrap your hands when you go boxing, so we can spend extra time together. I promise to read all the male parts of your spicy books.”

I throw my head back and croak out, “Praise the Lord!” The three of us laugh, his head shaking slightly before he continues.

His next words act as the nail in the coffin. “I promise to be faithful to you for as long as there’s breath in my lungs. It’ll be you and me until we’re six feet under. I promise to cut your apples into exactly eight slices with the skin peeled off. I promise to make my protein shakes bigger so we can split them. I promise to love you, unapologetically, the way you have always deserved to be loved.”

His forehead meets mine as he takes a deep inhale, letting it out as he says, “Damn. I am wild for you, Knight.” And then he’s kissing me. Sealing the deal, in a toe-curling, mind-melting kiss that I’ll forever play on repeat.

“Well, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” The preacher we totally forgot about says. We pull away in laughter as we shake his hand. “You may kiss the bride.” I wonder how many people make it through this entire thing without kissing before it’s time.

Tate lifts our joined hands in the air before scooping me up bridal style and carrying me out of the chapel. Once we make it over the threshold, he looks down at me with nothing but love and awe. “I love you, Mrs. Wilder.”

God, I love the sound of that. “Take me home, Mr. Wilder.”

His chest rumbles with a growl. “With pleasure,” he says as he throws me in the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt over me and locking it in place. With a quick kiss on the lips, he rounds the front of the car, with one hand draped over the steering wheel, he looks at me. “Can I take you out when we get home, Mrs. Wilder?”

My hand flies to my chest just like it did the time before when he asked this question. “Why, Tatum Wilder! Are you asking me on a date?”

His smile is different now than it was all those months ago. It’s softer, deeper. The kind that settles in the corners of his mouth and lingers, like he can’t quite believe this is real. And his eyes, God, his eyes, hold the kind of warmth that makes me feel like I’m the center of his entire universe. “Depends. Is your answer yes?”

I launch myself across the center console, planting a kiss on his cheek, before nipping at his ear as I whisper the only answer I will ever give him to that question. “Yes.”

Epilogue - Tatum

Framily Book Club Christmas party

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I can’t believe I’m here. And by here, I mean sitting in the living room of the house Abby and I bought down the street from my brother and Hannah. But not only am I sitting in the living room of that house, but I’m sitting in the living room wearing matching freaking christmas pajamas with a damn elf hat on my head, it has ears. Bloody. Freaking. Ears! I’m also sporting elf slippers that jingle when I walk. JINGLE. Do you know what this would do to my street cred if anyone on my team saw me like this? Apart from Zeke, who is sitting across from me dressed as Santa.

Apparently, it was in our Marriage Terms and Conditions that I have to partake in stupid shit like this. But I lost all of my fight when Abby came out of the bathroom earlier with tears in her eyes. Her pajamas are skin tight, they look like they could be painted on her. The panic I felt quickly gave way to amusement when she started laughing, and I realized she was enjoying this, not sad. “This was the best idea Hannah and I have ever had,” she said through a fit of giggles.

And now, here we are. Reading a Christmas novella about a cowgirl stranded in a snowstorm, and the only person still in town is the broody older man, who also happens to be the town's mechanic. Who doesn’t love an age gap?

“Mr. Neilson, I can’t thank you enough for pullin’ my car into the shop,” Hannah says in her most southern accent.

“Darlin, you don’t got to thank me for doing my job,” Abby reads in her “manly” voice.

“‘Oh, but I do,’ I say as I trail my finger down the middle of his chest, his hand wrapping around my own. The sheer size difference between them should be enough to make me pause. But this man has been the star of my dreams for years, ever since he changed my tire when I was fresh out of college. ‘I could think of lots of ways I could thank you that don’t require talkin'.’”

Monroe lets out a holler. “Get 'em girlie!” And boy does she, props to the cowgirl for taking what she wanted. Kinda reminds me of someone else. My eyes move toward Abby, who still sits between Monroe and Reed on book club nights. Monroe brought Scarlett with him, and I know both Abby and Hannah are over the moon about it.