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“A bride wants to look perfect for her husband. I’ve done this a few times. They rarely start on time.”
“Listen, about Abby—” But before I can explain any further about her mother’s estate, the doors to the sitting room swing open and all the breath leaves my body.
Standing in the doorway is my bride. Her blonde waves are twisted loosely onto her head, flowers woven into small braids here and there, and her face shimmers with delicate makeup. A simple white dress with a loose, flowing neckline spills down her body, skimming the floor, and beneath the hem, baby blue shoes peek out at me.
“You look incredible,” I rasp. “Fucking gorgeous.”
From behind her, there’s a little gasp, and Pierson gives me an amused look—we’ve all said worse—but it’s Abby’s reaction that pierces my heart. She sucks in a small breath, then lets it out in a shuddering exhale.
Relief.
I cross to her in three long strides, catching her gently by the upper arms. “Gonna make you my wife,” I murmur. “Today and every day for the rest of my life.”
“You look very handsome,” she whispers. Her eyes swim with unshed tears. “Your uniform…”
It’s not quite the same as her father would have worn, but it’s close enough. “I clean up all right?”
She nods as she sways against me, her hands brushing my chest. Stopping at my medals.
I catch her hand and lift it to my mouth, kissing each of her fingers and then her palm.
Then I take her hand and lead her outside to the garden. The Piersons and my family follow behind. But there’s a moment when it’s just the two of us in front of a burbling fountain, when nobody else is quite close enough to hear, and I lean over, brushing my lips against her cheek.
“You all right?”
She nods quickly. “Yes.”
“I love you.”
She gives me a big smile this time. “Love you, too.”
I lower my voice even further. “Daddy’s going to do terrible things to you in that wedding dress tonight.”
That does it.
Her cheeks stay pink through the short but serious exchange of vows, performed solemnly by the commander, and the fun and hilarious wedding photos orchestrated by my siblings.
After the ceremony, with my wife tucked against my side, I sprawl on the Piersons’ patio furniture with my brother and sister and tell them about the proposal. We hit some bittersweet notes, talking about our parents, but then the commander’s wife brings out champagne, and Pierson joins us to talk about Abby’s parents. That hits a few more bittersweet notes there, too, but in a good way.
By the time we’re on the second bottle of champagne, the caterers have arrived.
Jenna beams at her handiwork unfolding perfectly, and Abby goes out of her way to praise her new sister.
I toast her, too. Of course I’m grateful. But now I’m restless, eager for this part to wrap up, so I can finally take my wife home.
* * *
“You were so patient,” Abby pants breathlessly as I move inside her.
We’re home, but just barely. She’s up against the door in my—our—apartment, her something-blue shoes digging into my ass, her ivory lace panties tossed on the floor behind me.
My uniform is going to need to be dry-cleaned after this, but I don’t give a damn.
I bury my face in her neck and thrust deep again, needing her gasp in my ear. “My wife,” I growl. “Mine.”
“All yours,” she whispers. Her voice shakes. “I’m going to come.”
“Do it, Abby. Come on Daddy’s cock. Come on the cock that claims you.”
