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“We start to work on the TC case next week.” Brock returns to the conversation.
I nod as I look up the road. “Well, I already know who did that.”
“Yeah, but we need to prove it.”
Cameron releases a low whistle and smiles darkly. “Oh, hello, Little Red Riding Hood. Come to Daddy.”
We all turn to see a gorgeous brunette in a tight red dress walking towards the church. She’s super sexy with curves in all the right places.
“Shotgun,” Cameron whispers.
“Fuck off, Stanton,” Brock snaps. “You can’t fucking shotgun her.”
Cam smiles and he raises a brow. “Funny, I just did,” he mutters as he watches her. “Catch you losers later. I’m going to get my wolf on.” He takes off after her, disappearing inside the church.
Stan and I roll our eyes. He’s hopeless.
“He’s going to catch on fire in that fucking church,” Stan grumbles.
I get an image of Cameron combusting into flames as he walks into the church and I laugh. He probably will.
More guests arrive.
I glance at my watch again. “Where are they?”
“They’re coming, will you relax?”
I take out my phone and text Max.
What’s going on?
A text comes back.
We are following the car now.
All good this end.
Be there in five.
I reply.
How’s she feeling?
A text comes back.
The injection worked
She’s good.
Relax.
“They are almost here,” I announce. “We better get inside the church.”
Stan looks up the street and sees Jesten crossing the road. He narrows his eyes in contempt and puts his hands on his hips.
I roll my eyes. “Will you quit it?” I snap.
“I’m fucking watching him.” Stan scowls as he glares up the road.
“Stan.”
“What?” His eyes stay fixed on Jesten.
“This is my wedding day, and if you start any shit with him…”
His eyes flicker to me.
“I will kill you with my bare hands,” I finish.
“I won’t be starting it, but I’ll be fucking finishing it if he pisses me off.” He growls before marching off towards the church.
We stand and watch him disappear. “Can you keep an eye on him?” I ask Brock.
“No.” He rubs his eyes. “That is one fucking job I am not doing. I can’t keep Joshua Stanton The Hot Head in check. Nobody can. He’s out of fucking control.”
The white Rolls Royce pulls up and I smile.
She’s here.
“Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later, I stand at the end of the aisle, waiting.
My friends are here. My aunt and uncle flew in from South Africa, and I wish I could tell you that this is the happiest day in my life.
But it’s not. My first wedding day was.
Our real wedding.
In New York, when it was the just the two of us.
It was so unexpected and so premature… but that day meant so much to me because it was unbelievable that she jumped off a cliff.
For me, with me.
Her faith in me is unwavering.
And like this beautiful, pure angel, she has completely transformed my life.
From one of hardened regret to a hopeful future filled with love.
She comes into sight and my breath catches.
I feel my eyes well up.
She’s wearing the ice-pink dress she wore to our first wedding and I have to drop my head to control my emotion.
Same shoes, same hair with the big white flower tucked behind her ear.
Same perfect woman with the same beautiful smile.
Seeing the effect she has on me, she beams brightly, and I just want to run to fetch her.
God, she’s perfect.
Taking slow steps, she walks down the aisle, her arm hooked through her brother Brock’s as her gaze holds mine.
“Hi,” she whispers as they approach.
I rise up onto my toes, fighting excitement I can hardly control. “Hi,” I whisper back.
Brock shakes my hand and then passes her hand to me. I can’t help it. I take her in my arms and kiss her softly. “You look beautiful,” I whisper.
Bridget and Natasha giggle from their place beside her.
For a moment, I forget where I am as I stare down at her.
“Are we ready?”
“Oh, yes.” I step back from her.
“We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Bridget Marx to Benjamin Statham.”
The minister keeps on talking, but I’m lost.
My eyes roam over her perfect face, her big pouty lips, and then lower. My eyes rise to meet hers and I smile, forgetting where I am. I lean down and softly kiss her again.
Everybody chuckles and I stand up, realising what I just did.
Bridget laughs and kisses me again, our lips lingering over each other’s.
“Not yet, you two.” The minister frowns.
We both smirk as we try to behave.
He continues on. I watch her as she smiles goofily up at me, as if daring me.
I lean forward to kiss her again and she laughs. “Behave yourself,” she whispers as the church all break into laughter.
“Repeat after me.”
“I, Benjamin Statham, take thee, Bridget Marx, to be my wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part. According to God's holy ordinance, and thereto I pledge thee my faith.
