Catching Him (How to Catch an Alpha 1)

“I got her from here.” He lifts his chin, and I take Leah’s hand. I help her up the two steps to the podium, and once we’re in place, I look down at her, hating the veil between us. Pastor Rodsend starts to speak, and it seems to take forever to get to the part I’m looking forward to most. When he says the words I’ve been waiting to hear, I say, “I do,” and listen to Leah repeat the same words before I lift the soft fabric away from her face. I look into her eyes, feeling my throat begin to close once more.

“Hey,” she whispers, looking at me nervously, like we’re strangers, and I fight back the sudden urge to laugh.

When I have myself under control, I whisper back, “You look amazing. You’re always beautiful and always have a way of stopping my breath and giving it back to me, but right now . . .” I shake my head. “Jesus, baby, you stop my heart from beating.”

“Tyler.” Her body melts into mine.

“You’re everything, everything to me, Leah.” I capture her face in my hands.

“You’re everything to me too.” She licks her lips and drops her eyes to my mouth. “Now, would you fricking kiss me already?”

“Can’t a guy enjoy the view for a moment?” I tease.

She shakes her head no, and then, surprising me, she leans up on her tiptoes and grabs my face. She pulls my lips to hers, and even though I’m caught off guard, the kiss is not a quick touch of our lips. It’s wild and deep and everything a kiss should be. We’re both breathing heavily when she pulls her mouth from mine, and I hear her faint whispered “Oh my goodness” over the shouts from our family and friends as she tucks her face into my neck. I laugh, holding her close, then swing her up into my arms and listen to her squeak as she wraps her arms around my neck. The shouting gets louder as I carry her down the aisle, but neither of us hears anything after I cart my new wife inside to make out with her.

Epilogue

THREE YEARS LATER

TYLER

I pull into the garage and grab dinner from the passenger seat before I get out of my truck. As soon as I open the door, I hear Leah shouting, “Stop running away from me and put on your clothes.” I pause at the end of the hall, watching my almost-three-year-old daughter, Cori (short for Corina), run past me completely naked, with her mom chasing after her, holding a pair of little girl’s underwear in one hand and a shirt in the other. By the time I hit the living room, Leah has trapped our girl and has forced her into her underwear and is attempting to put a T-shirt on her. I’m not surprised by this situation; Cori would run around naked all the time if we allowed it.

“Cori, why are you giving your mama a hard time?” I look at my girl, who’s hanging half–upside down off the ottoman next to the couch, trying to get out of putting on her shirt.

“Daddy,” she shrieks when her beautiful eyes lock with mine. Then she shoots up to stand before jumping into my arms.

I balance her and the bag of food in my grasp, then look at my wife. When she rests her hands on her swollen stomach and lets out a sigh, I smile at her, and she smiles back.

“How are all my girls today?”

“Good,” Cori says, looking up at me and smiling before resting her head against my shoulder and wrapping her arms around my neck.

I look from her to Leah, and she shakes her head. She touches Cori’s hair and rests her hand on her stomach. “Between this wild one and her dancing on my bladder day and night, I’m not sure I have it in me to try again for the boy you want.” She’s full of shit. Yes, our girl’s wild, and yes, the daughter who’ll be joining us in three short months is causing her to run to the restroom every few minutes, but I know, just like me, she’s happy in our chaos and happy with the life we’ve built.

“I want a brother,” Cori informs us while looking at Leah’s stomach like she has the power to change the sex of her sister.

“Maybe someday, honey.” Leah laughs and kisses the side of her head when she pouts.

I lean over and kiss the top of Leah’s head, then inform Cori, “You need to finish getting dressed so you can eat.” I take her shirt from Leah before going to the kitchen. Bruce, like always, is sprawled out on the kitchen floor and hardly lifts his head to acknowledge our presence. He’s used to the chaos, whereas Mouse avoids it at all costs by staying hidden until Cori is asleep for the night. I set the bag with dinner on the counter, then put Cori down and help her into her shirt. When she’s covered, I carry her to her high chair and lock her in so she can’t escape and climb onto the kitchen table to sing or dance, which she does often when we’re not overly careful. I hand her my cell phone so she can watch her favorite videos on YouTube. Once she’s settled, I go to Leah, who’s making our plates, and take advantage of the few minutes of quiet to feel her up and steal a few kisses. I’ve missed her today. Hell, I miss her when I haven’t seen her for just a few hours. My obsession with her hasn’t changed over the last few years, even after us becoming parents.