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It’s the kind of dress I could have a gun under; feminine, classy, sexy, and both simple and sophisticated. In short, it’s utterly Niko.
I’m trembling as he hands me the bouquet of red roses, garden-fresh, tied by a red ribbon. They aren’t artfully arranged; no, they’re just bundled by the ribbon, and so fragrant, I smile. They’re perfect. I look at him, and the love in his eyes makes me come undone. “You dressed me.”
“Couldn’t help it. That fucking off the rack shit? I knew you’d do that.”
“To rile you, maybe? How long have you had this?”
He smiles. “A while.”
“Asshole.”
“Sweet fucking Rose.” He laughs, and it fades as he hands me a box. “This is your something old. The new were the custom rings Rush got us in New York.”
The mission Nikolai sent him on… I run a finger over the top of the small box. “Borrowed? Blue?”
“Fuck traditions. This is as far as I go.” He shifts. “Garcia helped me.”
I open it and start really shaking. It’s an inexpensive old locket, but a memory hits from out of nowhere of me grabbing at it…my mom. I can’t swallow, my throat burns too much, and my eyes blur.
“It was Steph’s. I knew it would be there, somewhere. It’s why I was gone that night. I flew back. Open it.”
I lift out the gold locket and open it with a sob.
Me and Mom. I’m a baby on one side with her, a little girl the other, and she’s smiling down in both. The pictures are small, but they’re…I don’t… “N-Niko.”
“I remember her wearing it, and then one day, it was gone. Finnegan was such a petty fuck, I bet he took it. Probably forgot it. I saw it again in one of the photos I gave you, and I thought…”
“It’s perfect.” I throw myself at him and hug him tight. I want to kiss him, but I’m wearing the smeary lipstick he likes.
Instead,hekissesme. “No, you are, Rose.”
* * *
When we get off the boat, we’re in some old fishing town, and it’s gorgeous. There’s a car waiting for us, and we’re driven out of the town to the rundown ruins of a church.
There’s only one person at the door, and I don’t know them. The sun’s down, and through the glassless windows comes the flicker of candlelight.
“Ready?” He holds out his arm.
I take it. “For you? Always.”
* * *
The celebrant keeps it simple, like I’m betting Niko paid him to do.
When I say I do, and Niko does the same, we could be in the world’s most lavish ceremony or in a registrar’s office. It doesn’t matter. What matters is him and me, promising the universe and each other that we’re meant to be. That we love each other.
I’m his.
He’s mine.
“Does this qualify as an elopement?” I whisper.
“I don’t fucking care,” he whispers back. “Kiss your groom.”
With a grin, I throw myself into his arms and kiss him. It’s no church-approved kiss. It’s sex. Carnal. Love. Lust. Desire. Need.
When the kiss ends, I look about. The celebrant’s gone, and Niko backs me against the altar.
