He was on point. “Yeah.” I nodded.
I slowly resolved myself to make tonight about her. Help her have some fun, a night off from the many stresses that had been dragging her down for well over a year now.
Tonight was going to be a long fucking night.
# # #
Formal MC events do not involve tuxedoes. We were all in our kuttes, black pants or blue jeans, and long-sleeved white or black linen shirts. Some of the guys had put up a white canopy out on the lawn, and the bikes were all lined up facing each other in two rows, leading from the clubhouse to the canopy, like a guard of chrome. Bull was presiding, Grath was my best man, and everybody else was circled around us and the canopy.
Waiting there for my bride to walk down the aisle, it felt really strange to be the center of attention like this. I actually felt—I didn’t know what. I wanted Ellie to get her ass out here ASAP, so I wouldn’t be alone as the focal point anymore. Let her have that. But waiting on her, as I was, I was actually starting to fidget.
Okay. Yeah. I was nervous.
After what felt like long hours of standing there, waiting, Shredder, our very own lead guitar soloist, finally began playing a recognizable wedding song or piece or whatever it was. Everybody hushed and turned toward the compound to watch as Ellie made her way through the aisle of bikes. She walked alone, but she needed no accompaniment. She looked…
Beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.
The silky white dress, veil over her hair, et cetera—all the basic bridal stuff—but none of that mattered, not to me. She was blushing, of course, probably from all the eyes on her. It made her eyes brighter, her face softer, her lips fuller. Not that she needed it—she was always gorgeous, even first thing in the morning when she could barely open her eyes and walked around like a zombie. But today, now, on this occasion, I was blown away.
This woman was about to marry me. Me.
Unbelievable.
And suddenly, I knew I couldn’t hold onto my anger with her any longer. I could barely hold a thought, except for an impatient wish that she would walk faster, get herself to my side sooner. I needed to look into her eyes and see her expression, see what she was thinking, make sure she really wanted this, too.
Hell, I wanted her to want this—me—for more than just the money. But reality bites, man. No way would either of us have been there, were it not for Peter and that trust fund.
Maybe I ought to have been thanking her grandmother.
Ellie finally arrived, and I took her hand, which was soft and light as a feather. Her hand was shaking, so I gave her a squeeze for support. She immediately intertwined our fingers, and I figured that was a good sign—she wasn’t pissed off about the way I had laid into her this morning.
Just remembering those moments had me getting a semi. Damn. Every time I touched her and she responded was a kind of bliss and torture combined. I’d steered clear the past few days for a reason, but that was not going to be possible for the next several hours. I had no idea how we would survive the next six months.
I tried to focus. Tonight was just tonight. Live in the now. Moment to moment. Plenty of time to think about the next day when it came. That would have to be my ongoing strategy, and I had no problem with it. Actually, it had long been my general MO.
Peter was the one who had me thinking differently, recently. His very existence required planning ahead, and I hadn’t even realized how much my thinking had altered because I was thinking of him and his needs, and Ellie’s needs in association.
Was I seriously already becoming a family man? Was that what this all meant?
I didn’t have time to let myself dig into all that philosophy, not right now.
Now, I had an unbelievably beautiful woman holding my hand, standing up with me, and needing my help. I’d give her everything I had, tonight.
Even if it killed me.
# # #
We had a fucking great night.
The ceremony went off without a hitch. Ellie was nervous, but she got through it, even smiling at me shyly most of the time. She blushed as she spoke the vows, of course. It turned me on. As if that was any surprise.
When it came time for me to kiss her, I was fully committed to enjoying the moment, so I went for it. Why the fuck not? Pretty sure I surprised her, but she didn’t protest in any way—if her grasping my hair, opening her mouth, and rubbing her tongue on mine with the same amount of passion as I put into it was any indication.