Desolation Road (Torpedo Ink 4)

That much was true. He leaned down and bit Scarlet’s ear gently. “Hell,” he whispered. “I do plan on keeping you up all night. She’s right.”

“I’m all for that,” she whispered back.Scarlet looked so beautiful dressed in the gown Lana had somehow managed to find for her, no doubt with the help of the famous Drake sisters of Sea Haven. The dress was classy and very elegant yet so sexy that as she walked toward him, he could barely breathe. The entire bodice and long sleeves of the dress were lace. The lace continued in rounded panels, draping down the skirt of the dress. Each panel was separated with a rounded sculpted accent of cutout stitching woven just like the lace. Beneath the lace was a sheath of darker emerald.

She wore white lace stockings on her legs and emerald heels on her feet. At her ears were emeralds surrounded by diamonds. The neckline was almost square, from shoulder to shoulder, all lace, and around her neck was a choker of emeralds with a golden ring every few links. Absinthe knew instantly Ice had given a shout-out to his need for control in the bedroom. He knew his brother had made a similar collar of rubies for his kiska as well. Her hair was up on top of her head, and down the back in a complicated twist with tendrils falling around her face.

She stood beside him, smelling like a dream, and he knew Preacher had been at work again. Besides being the one who would officiate, he was a chemist and could somehow manufacture perfect scents that enhanced natural attraction. Preacher smirked, holding a worn book open while they stood beneath the arbor. Absinthe would have liked to have gotten a good look at what that book actually was.

Behind them, all of Torpedo Ink was present, even Steele, Breezy and their son, which meant Adrik was in a hospital somewhere. To get him to go, Steele had performed some kind of miracle. Blythe’s children were seated between Czar and Blythe, taking up one row of chairs. Destroyer, the newest member, stayed all the way at the back, probably grateful, like Savage and Reaper, that the ceremony and reception were outdoors, but he didn’t show it. Destroyer had no expression on his face at all.

Absinthe, after that first sweep of his eyes he couldn’t help, taking in his surroundings, making certain everything was safe for his woman, kept every one of his heightened senses alert for every tiny nuance of the moments as they went by. He didn’t want to forget one single detail. He fixed his gaze on her. Walking toward him. Standing beside him. Shivering slightly. The way she looked. Smelled. The way the breeze moved in her hair and ruffled those stray pieces of hair around her face. The way the sun hit the emeralds at her throat and ears, dazzling his eyes, but nowhere near as beautiful as his bride.

Her fingers trembled slightly when he took her hands and turned her to face him. Preacher began to speak. He was short and to the point, asking them to repeat their vows, asking Absinthe if he took Scarlet to be his wife. “Hell yes, I do.”

Blythe cleared her throat.

Preacher glanced at her over his book. “Sorry. Aleksei Solokov, we have to be official here, or it isn’t legal, and we want your woman tied up good and tight so she doesn’t run the first time she realizes you’re totally fucked up.”

“Preacher.” Blythe glared at him.

Torpedo Ink roared with laughter. Even Scarlet tried not to laugh. Absinthe was grateful for the humor. She stopped being so nervous.

“Sorry, Blythe. Aleksei Solokov, do you take Scarlet Foley to be your wife for better or worse, in sickness or in health, for richer or poorer, to love and cherish until death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Scarlet Foley, do you take Aleksei Solokov to be your husband for better or worse, in sickness or in health, for richer or poorer, to love and cherish and obey in the bedroom—wait, where did that come from? Absinthe? Until death do you part?”

In the middle of the laughter, no one noticed that Preacher didn’t correct the mistake. No one noticed but Scarlet. She looked directly into Absinthe’s eyes. “I do.”

“Do you have rings?”

“Ice hasn’t finished them yet, but we have substitutes,” Absinthe said. “He made me a laminated one for Scarlet.” He pushed it onto Scarlet’s finger. “Your ring will be beautiful, I promise, baby. Ice is the best.”

“Just fuckin’ kiss her and let’s eat,” Reaper said.

“You owe me lots of money for that bad word, especially during a wedding,” a little voice called out.

“That’s little Emily,” Absinthe whispered to Scarlet, “Czar and Blythe’s youngest daughter. I’m pretty sure she has enough college money collected from Torpedo Ink swearing to go all the way through her master’s program at any school she chooses.”