Princess in Lingerie (Lingerie 12)

The sun was setting, and there were white rose petals everywhere.

I lifted my gaze and met Griffin’s. Piercing blue like the ocean, his eyes were glued to me with the same intensity I expected every single day. He made me his before I even reached him, claimed me from dozens of feet away with his enormous presence. He watched me like my father wasn’t right beside me, guiding me to him.

I didn’t even make it halfway before I started to cry.

I’d lost this man once before, and it was the hardest thing I’d ever had to go through. I knew I would never love anyone the way I loved him. Boys came and went, but he was the first man who could handle me. He loved me the way every woman dreamed of being loved. He didn’t care about the women who stared at him everywhere he went, oblivious to them because I was the only thing ever on his mind. He told me he loved me without skipping a beat, laying his feelings in the open without a hint of hesitation. Strong, powerful, and confident, he was exactly what I’d been looking for…my entire life.

That was why I couldn’t stop crying.

Because I loved this man so much.

He wasn’t what I was looking for. When I met him, I despised him. But when I had the chance to kill him, I couldn’t do it. The second he was on top of me, the game was over. I was his long before I told him I loved him.

We’d been through so much together, overcame all the obstacles that seemed insurmountable.

Because he never gave up on me.

He was one hell of a man.

Dressed in a black suit that Conway had tailored for him, he looked so handsome, the shadow of stubble on his chin. Despite the beautiful color of his eyes, his expression was more intense than I’d ever seen it—like he wanted to yank me out of my father’s hands. The wait was unbearable. I could see it in the way he looked at me.

It was the only time I’d ever seen him dress that way—so handsome.

We finally reached him, a lifetime later. My father grabbed my hand and placed it in Griffin’s. “I give you my daughter—because you’ll take care of her.” He squeezed my hand one last time before he left me go.

Bones kept his gaze on me, but he shut his eyes for a long moment, like he was at war with himself. Then he turned back to my father and moved his hand to his shoulder. “Always, Mr. Barsetti.”

My father gave him a slight nod before he stepped away, leaving me to marry the man I loved. He moved to the seat beside my mom, who was crying into a tissue. He wrapped his arm around her, the tears glistening in his eyes.

Bones looked at me again, taking both of my hands and facing me. He didn’t say a single word, but he didn’t need to say anything at all. He could always tell me how he felt without moving his lips. Right now, I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, and while he loved my dress, he’d rather see it on the floor of our bedroom.

He directed both of my hands against his chest, where I could feel his strong heartbeat against his black suit. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was slow and steady, like he could have been sleeping. This beat was calm and true, like this moment was bittersweet.

I took a deep breath and did my best to stem my tears, but it seemed useless. I didn’t want my makeup to be ruined, to look ugly on my wedding day because I couldn’t keep my emotions under control. There was so much feeling in that moment, so much pain, love, and joy.

“Baby.” He rubbed his hand across mine as he kept my palm against his chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He didn’t show tears the way I did, his face stoic like any other day. He did a better job of keeping his feelings under control, but his calmness didn’t stop my tears. “It seems like we’ve been waiting a lifetime for this.”

“Yes…”

“As my wife, I give you my heart. It’ll be your lullaby when you sleep. It’ll always move into my throat every morning when I look at you…when I look at you now. When I die, it’ll lie next to you. We’ll be together always, our souls dancing on the wind for eternity…our heartbeats as a faint drum in the distance.”

Bones had never said anything so beautiful. He was a man of few words, but when he did say something, it always blew my mind. He struggled to express himself, but that made his words so much sweeter. He meant every word, every syllable. “Griffin…”