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Either way, we’ll all be happy to start our not-so-little family. From the way the men have been talking, I highly doubt this will be our only child. If we’re lucky enough to be blessed with more pregnancies, I expect we’ll fill the island with children.
Needless to say, Rafferty isn’t running the resort for kinky businessmen anymore. That won’t work when we have children running around. Instead, we’re moving the business in a more legitimate direction and running it as a luxury spa option. We still have plans to close it down every so often just for us. None of us wants to give up the thrill of the chase just yet.
“You ready?” Ruth asks, taking my hand.
My stomach flutters with nerves, and the baby gives me a little kick. “I can’t wait.”
My men are waiting around the corner of the bay. It’s been set up with a celebrant to conduct the service—one who was a little surprised at our setup—and I know they’re all waiting for me now.
They’re all different now. The darkness and intensity that’s surrounded them has lifted—though they’re all excellent at conjuring it back when the situation desires—and we’re all in a much better place.
We learned that Wren died in his jail cell while waiting for his trial. The official story was that he’d hung himself with his bedsheets, but word was that he’d been taken down by others inside. No one likes a kiddie-fiddler, and prisoners aren’t an exception.
A floral archway has been set up close to where the ocean meets the sand, so it frames both the sea and the beautiful blue sky. The short but girthy woman in her forties who is our chosen celebrant stands underneath it, and in front of her are my men.
Seeing them standing there sends my stomach fluttering with a combination of nerves and disbelief.
God, they look so handsome. They’re all wearing suits, though they’ve each made their outfits their own. Like me, they’re all barefoot—we’re grounding ourselves to this earth beneath us, this island that brought us all together. Rafferty has gone for the full three-piece and looks every bit the dashing groom-to-be. Asher has foregone the waistcoat but has his jacket done up, a rose in his lapel. Wilder looks like he’s about to burst out of his suit, the pants stretching around his massive thighs. His hair is down, falling around his shoulders in loose waves. Brody is the most casual of them all—with no jacket covering his white shirt, and his dog tags exposed in the open collar—but he’s forgone his usual baseball cap. Together, they’re breathtaking, and I can hardly believe they’re all mine.
Four sets of eyes turn in my direction, and I hope I’m creating as much of an impact as they have on me.
From their expressions, I am.
Rafferty grins. Asher blinks, takes off his glasses to wipe his eyes, puts them back on, and blinks again, as though he can hardly believe what he’s seeing. Brody shakes his head, as though in wonder, and Wilder swipes a tear from his eye. A tear? Have I actually managed to bring big, strong Wilder to tears?
I walk slowly across the sand, Ruth at my side. We reach the four men and draw to a halt. I turn to face my best friend, and she gives me the biggest hug, squeezing me close, my baby bump between us. Tears fill my eyes, and I try to blink them away, not wanting to ruin my eye makeup. Not yet, anyway.
“I’m so happy you came,” I whisper in her ear.
She hugs me even harder. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”
She releases me to face my four men, and, despite my best efforts, a tear spills from my eye and runs down my cheek.
Wilder is closest to me, and he reaches out and swipes it away with his thumb. “You’d better stop that,” he says, “or you’re going to set me going.”
I give a laugh. “I saw you a minute ago. You were already going.”
He smiles at me as I reach out and grab his hand, gripping his fingers tightly, before letting go.
I move into position, standing so I’m directly in front of the celebrant, my four men around me—Rafferty and Brody to my right, and Asher and Wilder to my left.
“Everyone ready?” the celebrant asks.
We all glance at each other and nod happily.
She begins. “We are gathered here today...”
I miss most of what she says, I’m so caught up in the moment, but then I realize my turn has come, and I need to repeat what she’s said.
I draw in a breath and speak, echoing her words. “In the name of love, I, Honor, choose you, Rafferty, Wilder, Brody, and Asher, to be my life-partners, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to honor and respect, to love and to cherish.”
I’m beaming from cheek to cheek, smiling so hard I think my heart might burst. I never even knew it was possible to be so happy, and from the looks on each of the guys’ faces, they feel the same way.
“You may nowallkiss the bride,” the celebrant says with a laugh, and then adds, “And what a lucky bride she is.”
The men play fight among each other to see who can get to me first and I find myself surrounded, kisses peppering my lips, cheeks, forehead, and neck. I sigh in happiness and almost forget we have an audience until the celebrant clears her throat and we’re forced to make some space between us.
“Congratulations,” she cries, throwing her arms wide.
