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Together.
A few hours later,I'm resting my head on Damien's shoulder. We're on a padded bench parked on the side wall of the reception hall, and I'm bone tired. But I can't stop watching the guests, because they look like they're having the best night of their lives. Dancing and laughing. Kissing and hugging.
He kisses my temple. "Girlie?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I owe you an apology."
I sit up and frown. "What for?"
"It just occurred to me that maybe this wasn't the wedding of your dreams, getting married so quick." He looks genuinely upset, and I smile.
"Oh, babe." I put my arms around him. "I was never set on a perfect wedding or perfection. Ever. The way we started was a little unconventional. But it ended up exactly the way it was supposed to. Why would you apologize when all this awesomeness is unfolding around us?"
I gesture to the dance floor, where his parents are swayingto a Bob Marley tune, in love as the day they met. Tate and his sister are laughing together, like doubled over in hysterics. Remy looks like he's flirting with my cousin, that trademark Hastings grin flashing bright.
I'm not pregnant. My cholesterol is under control. Mom's going to make it. Damien? I don't want him to leave. But that's our reality right now. And we'll get through it, somehow.
Then I spot Lauren and Max. She's screaming with laughter. He's hoisted her into his arms and is carrying her off the dance floor.
"Awww," I murmur. She handled herself so well today, broken ankle and all. I thought she'd be a diva about it, but she wasn't. She'd even wheeled herself on the scooter right in front when I tossed the bouquet over my shoulder—and she'd caught it.
"Wonder where they're going?" I murmur into Damien's ear.
He lets out a little growl. "Probably exactly where I'm taking you in a few minutes. Up to a room."
"I like that plan. A lot. You know something?"
He strokes my cheek with the backs of his fingers. "What's that?"
"I think I love you more now than I did at the ceremony."
He leans in and kisses me, but not before he whispers those three words I've waited so long to hear.
epilogue
. . .
six months later
KATE
The clickof the hotel suite's door rouses me from a deep sleep, one that's dreamless and laced with jetlag. My eyes flutter, half-open.
It's too dark to see the face of the man who walks into the bedroom, but I know who it is from the outline of the wide shoulders and muscled arms. My heart kicks against my chest in excitement, and as I'm about to sit up, he's on the bed.
The only sound I hear is my shallow panting.
In the blink of an eye, he's flung the covers off the bed and stretched out. He's half on top of my naked body, grazing his nose against my neck. He insistently presses his already rock-hard cock into my hip, a motion that's both achingly familiar and thrillingly new.
"Kate." His voice is hoarse and needy. "Fuck, you're here. We're here together."
"Finally," I whimper. I inhale so I can stave off the tears, and my senses are overwhelmed with his masculine, lime-and-spice scent.
I will not cry.
We're in this three hundred dollar a night hotel room in Rome, thousands of miles from where we started in Florida.
