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“Da,” Curtis said, reaching for him, his starched button up pulling free from his pressed khaki pants.
“Yep, you gotta help me with something,” he said, bracing his son against his hip and facing Renata. “We’re a package deal.”
There were tears in Renata’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Curtis clapped his hands, bouncing in his arms.
“I know. We get to keep her.” He laughed. “I’m happy, too.”
Renata shook her head, but her smile was something else.
“Now we’re ready?” Mack asked.
Ash took her hand in his and squeezed, earning him a smile. “We’re ready.”
Mack McCoy was a man of few words and Ash was thankful for it. When Mack asked for rings, Ash pulled the two gold bands he’d purchased for them from the pocket on Curtis’s little black vest and held them out. What surprised them both was Curtis. He leaned forward, holding his arms out for Renata. And she took him, holding him close—like it was the most natural thing in the world. Their vows were short and sweet and, before he knew it, he and Renata were declared man and wife.
“Wait,” he said again, handing Curtis back to his mother, causing a round of laughter from those gathered. “Better,” he said, sliding his arms around her. “Mrs. Carmichael.”
She smiled up at him and wound her arms around his neck.
“Kid friendly, please,” Archer called out, setting off a round of groans, slaps and laughter from her side of the family.
“Buzzkill,” Ash said, pressing a gentle kiss against her mouth. He’d behave, for the moment. Now that they were married, he could kiss her wherever and whenever he damn well pleased.
“What’s that smile about?” she asked.
“All the perks of being married to you.” His hands cradled her face.
Her cheeks blossomed with color.
“I just need a few signatures,” Mack interrupted. “Then we can get this show on the road.”
It didn’t take long to make everything legal. But helping load up the truckloads of kids and family members for the short drive to Cutter’s did.
“Can we walk?” Renata asked, smoothing a hand over her stomach.
He nodded. “Whatever you want.” Besides, leaving his truck where it was might make for an easier getaway.
The mothers unpacked the stroller, bundled Curtis up and led the way, stopping every now and then to look at a shop.
It was a pretty day. The sun was out. And he wanted to walk down Main Street with his new bride. “Happy?” he asked Renata.
She nodded.
His fingers threaded with hers, caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. “Can’t keep your hands off me,” he teased. He sure as hell couldn’t keep his hands off her.
She flashed him a cheeky grin. “I can’t?”
He chuckled. “You’re up to no good.”
“I am?” she asked. “How do you know what I’m thinking?”
He squeezed her hand. “Just lucky, I guess.”
“Is that what you call it?” she asked, her brows arching. “I’d call it shameless.”
The walk to Cutter’s was interrupted every few feet. The shopkeepers and business owners of Stonewall Crossing wanted to offer congratulations—making their short walk longer. Not that he minded. He’d have been fine skipping the reception altogether. What he wanted, more than anything, was time with his new wife.
