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“And Finn,” Aidan said quietly, his throat tight.
“Sláinte,” Declan whispered, throwing back his shot just as music drifted through the door. “I think that’s our cue.”
He handed his glass to James and took Aidan by both shoulders. They shared a long look, but Declan said nothing, no parting words of wisdom or warnings not to fuck it up. When Declan released him, Aidan took a deep breath and stepped around his brother to the door.
Pulling it open, he crossed the short hall to the side door leading into the sanctuary. He gripped the knob to steady himself before pushing through. The church was packed just short of standing room only, every pew filled with people in their Sunday best.
Those expensive Brazilian flowers speared up out of bronze vases and hung in petite bouquets at the end of each pew. Evie and Libby sat with Sean in the front row, and Aidan felt Cait’s absence sweep over him like a dull ache.
When they were in place, the doors opened at the back of the church, and two little girls in bright white dresses tied with burgundy sashes stepped through, carrying baskets decorated with the same ribbons. They were cousins, not sisters, and one exuberantly showered the carpet with deep red and orange rose petals while the other methodically dropped them one by one on her way up the aisle.
They reached the end and quickly ducked into the pew with their grandmother on the bride’s side before the doors opened again and a little boy in a black suit stepped through. Another pang hit Aidan square in the chest. If they hadn’t left for Cait’s family’s summer home in upstate New York right after Finn’s funeral, the ring bearer would have been Finn’s boy, Evan.
This boy was Leo’s oldest at seven or eight, but for the life of him, Aidan couldn’t remember the kid’s name. The Falcones had a ridiculous number of grandchildren. The boy stopped at the end of the aisle and carefully handed the pillow with both rings tied to it over to Declan before turning on his heel and joining his parents.
The music changed and the doors opened again, and this time the bridesmaids stepped through. Sofia and two of Viv’s friends he hadn’t met yet wore gowns of burgundy and carried little orange bouquets up the aisle, lining up on the opposite side. Sofia sent him an enthusiastic thumbs up while he tried to ignore how his heart raced as the music changed to the wedding march.
When he glanced down the aisle, the doors were opened wide, and she was already making her way toward him. She wasn’t wearing white; that was the first thing that struck him. Instead she’d wrapped herself in lace and satin the color of champagne that glittered when she moved.
It hugged every inch of the curves he hadn’t been able to purge from his mind, and he found his mouth watering as she drew even closer, stopping with her father at the bottom of the stairs. She wore a long veil over curls she’d swept up to hang and drape around her neck, and she was dripping with diamonds and rubies from the family vault, including a delicate tiara that anchored her veil in place.
Her father leaned in and whispered something against her ear, brushing his lips across her cheek, and she smiled. When they both turned to him, he reached for her hand, and Falcone laid it carefully in his, catching Aidan’s eye and holding it for a long beat before turning and joining his wife.
Aidan helped her up the stairs and then tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow while the priest began the ceremony.
“You clean up good, Callahan,” she whispered, and he fought the urge to grin.
Turns out, Catholic wedding masses were no less boring whether you were a spectator or a participant. Father Michael might have been the syndicate’s priest for decades, but he was a stickler for tradition and took them through every single second of a traditional ceremony. Probably a penance for all the sins they regularly committed and rarely confessed.
While the priest droned on about love and commitment and partnership, Aidan let his thoughts drift to the warm feel of Viv’s hand on his arm and at his side, the dizzying scent of her hair, and just exactly how he was going to peel that dress off her later, inch by torturous inch, tasting every centimeter of exposed skin as he did.
He jumped when he felt a pinch on his arm, glancing down at Viv, who was turning to hand her bouquet to her sister before moving to face him, taking both of his hands in hers. He hadn’t been paying enough attention to know what part came next, but the priest solved it for him with his next words.
“Do you, Aidan Montgomery Callahan, take this woman to be your wife? Do you promise to share your life openly with her, to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and honor her all the days of your life?”
He felt Viv’s fingers flex in his when he hesitated, and he gave them a light squeeze. There was no going back from this.
“I do.”
“And do you, Vivian Amelia Falcone, take this man to be your husband? Do you promise to share your life openly with him, to be faithful to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and honor him all the days of your life?”
She tilted her head as if considering, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth before she replied,“I do.”
“Now, an exchange of rings as a symbol of your eternal commitment to one another.”
Aidan swallowed around the lump in his throat as he turned to Declan, palm outstretched for the rings. Eternity was a hell of a long time to be bound to a single person. Even one as enticing as his bride.
While he repeated the priest’s words back to him, Aidan slid the matching ruby and diamond studded wedding band onto her finger, completing the set, then she did the same with a thick silver band.
He couldn’t name the sensation that shot through him when she lifted her eyes to his, but it seared through his veins until he felt like his body was on fire from it.
When the priest finally pronounced them husband and wife, she slid her arms languidly around his neck, stepping closer and tilting her head up ever so slightly for his lips. He’d never been with a woman who matched him for height when she was wearing heels, and it turned him on more than he realized. Or maybe more than he’d been willing to admit before now.
He was under strict instructions to keep the kiss decent for pictures, but when her gaze dropped to his mouth, he couldn’t stop himself from taking his time in tasting her, his tongue sliding out to drag across her lower lip, grinning when she sighed.
She broke the kiss on a laugh when the music began to play them off, and he took her hand and led her back up the aisle to cheers and applause. When they were outside, before the rest of the bridal party and guests appeared, he hauled her up against him and took her mouth again, tightening his hold on her waist when she gasped against his lips.
“A promise for later, princess,” he whispered when the doors behind them burst open.
