Cannon (Carolina Reapers 5)

We’re doing what? I stared at the love of my life in complete and utter shock.

She had the nerve to grin but went first.

“I, Persephone Julia VanDoren, swear to love you, Cannon Price, for the rest of my life. I will be your shelter in every storm, even when you swear it’s not raining. I will bake you peanut butter cookies and walk Cerberus by your side every night, but the early mornings are on you.”

A chuckle went through the crowd, and my heart soared.

“I promise to abide by rules one, three, six, and eight, knowing that rules four and five are off the table, and hoping that you might wiggle a bit on rule number two.”

I huffed a laugh. I was never touching her money. Ever.

“I promise to be your biggest fan, consume two-thirds of your closet, never make you eat jello, and always keep you up to date on the latest magazine articles.” Her eyes took on a wicked gleam, and I nearly kissed her right then. “I will love you the rest of my life, Cannon, just the way you are because you’re already perfect for me.” She slid the ring onto my finger, and my soul clicked back into place.

“It’s your turn,” the preacher reminded me when I stood there staring at Persephone.

Shit. Right. Okay.

I took her wedding band between my thumb and forefinger and poised it just at the tip at the end of her finger.

“I, Sheldon Cannon Price—”

You could have heard a pin drop when Sterling muttered, “Whaaaaat?”

“—swear that I will love you, Persephone Julia VanDoren, for the rest of my life, and every second of forever that follows. I promise that while I don’t have gentle manners, I’ll always be gentle with you. When I travel too much, I’ll carry you with me in my heart. When I can’t find the words, I’ll read them to you. When I lose my way, I’ll follow you, knowing that your light is all I need.”

A single tear slid down her face, but her smile was brighter than ever.

“I swear I’ll bring color to your life in every way, and to always have your back. I will build you a bigger closet for your tiny clothes, and get whatever you want, whenever you want it, from the highest shelves. I will always catch you when you fall, and I will never forget what a gift your love is. I will protect you, cherish you, adore you, and worship you every moment for the rest of our lives.”

I slid the ring onto her finger and heard more than a few sniffles from our audience.

“By the power invested in me by the state of South Carolina, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

I was already on it, cupping the back of her neck as I brought my mouth to hers. She tasted like love and home, and happiness. She tasted like Persephone.

She was mine.

“Not a poet, huh?” she whispered against my lips as the crowd clapped behind us.

“I guess you bring out the romantic in me.”

She grinned, throwing her arms around my neck. I swept her into my arms and kissed her thoroughly, uncaring if the audience thought it was too much. Then I mentally did the math and cursed the hours we’d have to wait before I could take this exquisite dress off her body.

I felt a tap at my shoulder and broke the kiss, ready to get the PDA lecture, but instead, I found Logan and the rest of the Reapers gawking at me.

“Your name is Sheldon?” Logan blurted the question with huge eyes.

“His name is mine,” Persephone corrected him, then pulled my face back to hers for another kiss.

I carried my wife back down the aisle to the cheers of our friends and family, letting the happiness soak in as we took our first steps into forever.

And this time, we remembered every single second of it.

Epilogue

Eighteen Months Later

Persephone

I rubbed my palms against my eyes, pushing off from the couch where I’d accidentally fallen asleep—an hour ago? What in the world? I thought I’d just closed my eyes for a second, but I hadn’t been getting regular sleep for a few months now.

I cinched my soft cotton robe around myself, having not bothered to throw a shirt on underneath it—not when I had to whip the girls out every five minutes it seemed these days. My legs bare, I padded down the hallway in search of my husband.

I turned not into our room, but the room directly across from it, softly opening the door to spy inside.

My heart skipped a beat as I held my breath.

Cannon sat in the rocking chair in the corner, shirtless, our three-month-old baby girl cradled against his chest. Her white blanket practically glowed against the midnight ink decorating his skin, but she slept soundly tucked against his chest. His eyes were on Melony, gazing down at her like she was an answer to a question he’d been asking his entire life. A soft hum radiated from his throat, a slower version of a rock ballad that had quickly become her personal lullaby.