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"Welcome to The Happily Ever Chapel," a man says, stepping out from behind a velvet curtain. He’s wearing a very tasteful black suit with a light pink tie. He looks at Mick, then at me, and his smile wide. "You two looking to tie the knot?"

Mick squeezes my hand. "We have a reservation for two o’clock."

Gary, according to the small name tag on lapel, nods solemnly. “Did you get the marriage license on the way here?”

“I have it right here.” Mick pulls it out of his jacket pocket and hands it over to him.

“Give me five minutes to fill out the paperwork and we’ll be ready to get this show on the road.” He heads over to a computer and types away. Not too long later, he walks back to us and smiles. "Follow me, kids. We’ve got it all set up for you."

We walk into a small room draped in red velvet and gold tinsel. A recording of 'Here comes the Bride' starts playing over a scratchy speaker system. It’s actually much classier than I’d imagined we’d find in Vegas. It’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to me because I’m standing here with a man who would do whatever it takes to make me happy.

A middle-aged woman in a pink wrap around dress and comes strolling out of the back room and sits in the front row. Gary takes his place under a white arch. He clears his throat, assuming a low, vibrato-heavy tone. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Mick, do you take Mia to be your partner for life?"

Mick takes both of my hands in his, his thumbs grazing my knuckles, and smiles down at me. “I do.” His voice is deep, echoing in the small space, filled with love for me. He means it.

"And Mia," Gary continues, turning his rhinestones toward me. "Do you take Mick to be your husband?"

I look up at Mick. I think about the night at The Roaring Crowd, the way I tried to push him away because I was afraid of how much space he’d take up in my life. I think about the way he makes me feel safe even when everything else is crazy and uncertain.

"I do," I whisper. A single, happy laugh escapes me, and I feel the sting of tears behind my eyelids. "I absolutely do."

Mick slides the platinum band onto my finger, his movements precise and deliberate. It’s heavier than the engagement ring, a solid weight that anchors me to him. Gary looks back and forth between us with a smile on his face.

"By the power vested in me by the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Mick doesn't wait. He pulls me in, his hands cupping my face with a possessive intensity that leaves me breathless. The kiss is a deep claim that marks the beginning of our life together. He pulls back just an inch, his forehead resting against mine.

"Mrs. McLinden," he murmurs against my lips. The name sends a jolt through me, a sharp, beautiful realization of what we’ve just done. He says it like it’s a title he’s been waiting to bestow since the moment we met. "Finally. Mine."

"Yours," I agree, my voice trembling. "Always."

We walk out of the chapel into the blinding Nevada sun. Mick stops by a fountain, looking down at our joined hands. The gold bands catch the light, identical and permanent. He looks like he’s just won the Stanley Cup, a look of pure, unadulterated triumph that he doesn't try to hide.

"Hungry?" he asks, though his eyes are focused on my mouth. "Or should we head back to the suite?"

"The suite," I say, not even pretending to care about lunch. "I want to get out of these shoes. And this dress."

He flags down a taxi, his arm around my waist, pulling me tight against his side. The ride back to the hotel is a blur of neon signs and heavy traffic. We don't speak, but the air between us is thick with a new kind of happiness.

Our suite is on the top floor, a sprawling expanse of marble and glass that overlooks the city. Mick shuts the door behind us and the silence is immediate, a stark contrast to the bells and whistles of the casino floor below. He doesn't let me walk three steps before he’s lifting me into his arms.

"Mick!" I squeal, wrapping my arms around his neck. "You don’t have to carry me everywhere."

"It’s my job now," he places a soft kiss on my lips, carrying me across the plush carpet toward the massive bed. "Taking care of you is the most important job I’ve ever had."

He sets me down on the edge of the mattress, but he doesn't pull away. He stays between my knees, his hands sliding up my thighs, gathering the silk of my dress. His touch is familiar, but everything feels different now. The stakes have shifted. The boundaries are gone.

"I’ve been dreaming about this moment since we met," he admits, his voice low as he works the zipper of my dress. "Giving you my name and making you mine forever."

I lean back on my elbows, watching him. "I’ve been yours since the first moment we met."

"I love you," he says. He pulls the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but lace. He follows it with his own clothes, his movements urgent but controlled. When he joins me on the bed, the weight of him is a relief, a grounding force that shuts out the rest of the world.

He kisses me like I'm the air he needs to breathe, pinning my wrists to the mattress, and every molecule in my body turns to goo.

He grins against my mouth, all wolf and sin, dragging the sound right out of me like it’s the only thing he wants for dinner. "You have no idea what you do to me," he mutters, and his voice is so low my toes actually curl.

I reach between us and wrap my hand around his hard cock, “Actually, I do.” I smirk up at him.