Only, when I force my gaze up to look ahead, and my eyes connect with Ryder’s—those clear blues that still ramp my heart, that still offer me comfort—the ceremony and the people filling it fall away. It’s only us.
He’s my anchor.
And it’s always been him. I finally have my chance to prove that to him.
I hold his loving gaze, allowing his faith to draw me in, and I walk with purpose and confidence toward him.
My father kisses my cheek before he pats Ryder once on the shoulder and leaves to take his seat beside Becca.
Standing before Ryder, looking up into his beautiful face as he gazes at me adoringly, every obstacle we faced to be here right now washes away, like it’s being swept out to sea by the shore behind us. He’s gorgeous in his black tux, his strong, muscular chest and arms filling it out just as sexy as he fills out his uniform. If you would’ve told me I was destined to marry a super bowl star years ago, I would’ve laughed. The idea so foreign from what I just knew my life was fated to be.
But oh, he’s so much more than a football god—though yes, he’s absolutely one. Ryder Nash is the reason I’m thriving, the reason I’ve recently been promoted to an editor at the publishing company where I started interning during college. I never even knew I could dream of another future, never mind have one, until him.
He leans in close to my ear, sending a shiver of yearning through my body. “You’re breathtaking,” he whispers. “How long do receptions last…because I’m not sure I can wait to get you out of that dress.”
I laugh. And like that, this moment is perfect. Ryder is perfect for me.
* * *
Ryder
“I thought Becca was going to pass out when she tasted the wedding cake,” Ari says. “You so should’ve prepared her for that.”
“And what?” I say, wrapping my arms around her tighter, bringing her close. “Ruin the surprise? It was totally worth it.” The wedding cake was the one responsibility Ari’s stepmother allotted me. And I made my only contribution to our wedding count: carrot cake.
She shakes her head. “You’re too much,” she says, her amber eyes glistening in the starlight.
“And you’re my wife, Misses Nash.”
I lean in and capture her soft lips with mine. I will never tire of tasting her, of desiring her.
The low, melodic chime of classical music surrounds the balcony, and our movements slow, the dance forgotten as I lose myself in the feel of her. I’d wait all over again, fight through every barrier ceaselessly, if that’s what it took to get here with her.
Pulling back, she says, “I’m happy she could make it, Ryder. Your mom looked so happy.”
A pang resonates in my chest. “She did.” When Jake showed up with our mother, it was more than a surprise. She stopped treatments a few months ago, and her doctors said she most likely wouldn’t live past this year—that’s why Ari decided to officially give us a wedding date.
Still, I didn’t think her health would allow for her to attend the wedding. And even though I was reluctant to invite my brother, Ari asked that I trust her. Having him there was worth the discomfort to see my mother happy.
“So, Vee was in on this scheme, too,” I say.
She nods, swaying lightly in my arms. “Yep. We’re a bunch of sneaky sneaks.”
“Maybe we should’ve paired her up with Jake…” I start, then reconsider. Jake is the last person I’d wish on one of Ari’s best friends. Although he’s trying to do better, he’s still a far ways away.
“She was really okay with Gavin. And she’ll find someone again…she’s just going through some stuff right now.” Ari looks away. She’s worried about her friend, but trying not to darken our moment. Gavin gave me the clipped replay of what went down between them to finally end things, but I know there’s more to it.
“Besides,” she says, grazing her fingers along the back of my neck, bringing all my attention back on her. “I think they did have a little fun together decorating your car.”
“Ah, no. I don’t believe for a second that was all their idea.” I mock glower at her, and she struggles to hide her knowing smile. “Just married spelled out with spoiled milk and condoms… You finally took your payback, huh?”
“I plead the fifth,” she says.
I swoop down and lift her into my arms, loving the contented squeal she gives me. I walk us toward the private hot tub of our suite, and her eyes go wide.
“Ryder, you know that I’m not materialistic…but this dress does not deserve a chlorine bath.”
I lower her, gently setting her feet to the tile floor. Then I move behind her and take the clasp of her dress. Pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder, I drag the zipper down slowly, reveling in her shaky exhale, the tremble of her body against mine.