Cyrus (The Henchmen MC 9)

"She's early."

"She likes to keep people on their toes," Cy said with a shrug as he pulled me to the door.

"You're the one I need to go to to get this signed, right?"

Those were Wasp's first words out of her mouth as the door opened. She was holding out a copy of Drunk Dial, Daya's first novel which she had published indie seven weeks before, completely flooring her when it actually broke the top 100 on Amazon after I created quite the buzz for it in my groups and all over my book-related social media pages. Heck, when she dedicated the darn thing to me, it was certainly the least I could do.

"You didn't tell me she likes books," I accused, giving Cy small-eyes.

"See, I told you you two would get along just fine."

And we did.Cyrus - 1.5 years"She's gonna be pissed that you gutted a book," Reeve warned as I pulled it out of the bag on the coffee table in the compound.

"It's so I can put a ring in it," I objected, shaking my head as my hand reached for the smooth handle of my pocketknife.

It was the book too. That notorious one I read aloud to her in the library that night, Denver, because, really, it had to be that one. Sure, I could have picked her favorite romance, or her favorite Austen or Bronte or any other number of books that would have been heavier on the sentimental note. And, you know, nowhere near as raunchy. But this one had meaning for us, and I was pretty sure that was what mattered most.

"It's still a book. I once caught her petting the cover of a book, Cy," he told me with a small smile. Reeve had a soft spot for Reese. I knew she spent a long time worrying that he didn't like her, and it took many long months of trying to convince her that was just how he was for her to stop being so shy around him. He had already cared about her, but once she let him in a little, he was fucking charmed as shit by her.

Hell, he had been the one to drop down next to me on the couch a week before and declared it was time for a fucking ring.

I had already bought a ring. In fact, I had had the damn thing sitting in my drawer for almost eight months, but I couldn't figure out when the time was right.

Reeve's declaration was the little push I needed.

Hence the book.

"She can still pet it," I said with a shrug as I started digging. "But she'll be doing it with my ring on the finger of that hand."Reese - 2 years"It's perfect," Kenz said, head tipped to the side as she looked me over in the hotel room suite. "I mean, of course it is. I made it. But it looks absolutely beautiful on you," she added, running her hands over the simple wedding dress she had designed for me.

Yes.

Wedding dress.

As in, it was my wedding day.

To Cyrus.

It was a thought that needed repeating, had needed repeating every single day - sometimes multiple times a day - for the past five months.

I was going to marry Cyrus.

I was getting my very own happily ever after.

Originally, I had set the date for just five months after the engagement because my plan was to keep it small, so there was no need for more time since there wouldn't be any crazy planning going on.

That was the plan. Until, you know, the girls club and my female relatives got wind of things.

Suddenly, they were renting out a giant ballroom and decking it out. To be perfectly honest, I wasn't even involved in the planning. The idea of things like choosing linens and a menu was keeping me up and giving me hives, so I had sort of sent out a massive text to every single woman I knew who would be involved, and told them to just handle it for me.

It was a weird move, I know. But, for me, the chairs and the altar and the music... none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered at all was Cyrus. He was going to be there. The rest was window dressing - pretty, but completely inconsequential.

So, aside from knowing what my dress, and this suite looked like in the hotel, I was completely in the dark.

A surprise wedding, if you will.

It was actually rather exciting.

It was helping to ease the nerves I had about walking down the aisle while a ton of people stared at me.

"Oh, honey," my mother said as she came in, her fingers steepled in front of her mouth, her eyes starting to water.

"Don't do that!" Kenzi scolded, big-eyeing our mom. "You know that if you cry, she cries. And I just finished her makeup."