Beloved Liar (The Reed Rivers Trilogy 3)

“Georgie?” Henn prompts. “Why don’t you say your vows first. Show Reed how it’s done.”

Nerves rocket through me. Not because I have any doubt about pledging myself to Reed forever. But because I’m quite certain what I’ve come up with for vows won’t come close to expressing the depth of my love for Reed—the gorgeous, generous, enthralling man who’s become my world. My breathing stilted, I pull a piece of paper out of my cleavage. “Sorry,” I mumble, indicating the paper. “I didn’t want to mess this up.”

“You can’t mess it up,” Reed says soothingly, squeezing my hand. “No matter what you say, it will be perfect.”

I glance down at the paper. And then return to Reed’s chocolate eyes. I clear my throat. “Reed, loving you feels like the most natural thing in the world—like breathing and blinking and smiling.” I smile. “I never have to think about loving you, because I was born to do it. Designed to do it. But ‘love’ isn’t a big enough word for how I feel about you. There’s really no word for it, actually. No way for language to encapsulate the depth and endlessness of my devotion to you, any more than the word ‘infinite’ truly encapsulates the vastness of outer space. Please know that I love you as deeply as a human being can love. I adore you, with every drop of me. I admire and respect you. And I like you. My vow to you today is to love you fiercely and faithfully, forever. Until we’re old and gray. Which, in your case, will be in about three years.”

Reed hoots with laughter, along with Henn and Josh. Plus, I can hear Alessandra and Kat guffawing behind my back, as well, along with everyone in our audience.

“Try the veal, I’m here all week,” I say, making Reed chuckle again. I crumple my paper and toss it behind me, and then grab both of Reed’s hands. “It boils down to this. My beloved Reed, I promise to be yours, in sickness and health. For richer or poorer—”

“Don’t jinx me, baby.”

Again, everyone laughs, including me.

“Reed Rivers, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, as your wife. I love you so much. I promise to give you, and only you, all of me. Forever.”

“Perfect.” He leans in and kisses me gently. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. So, so much.”

“That was so beautiful, Georgie,” Henn says. He smiles at his best friend. “Okay, buddy. You’re up. Make it good.”

“I’ll do my best.” A huge smile overtakes Reed’s face. “To start, I feel the need to correct a few things I’ve said in the past—things that were true when I said them, but aren’t anymore. I once told you I’m a believer in ‘going big or going home.’ But now that I love you the way I do, I’ve realized that’s not an either-or proposition. Going home is going big, as long as I’m coming home to you.”

I clamp my lips together to keep my chin from trembling.

“Another thing,” Reed says. “I once called you the ‘Ginger Rogers of Spin.’ But I’ve since realized that’s too limiting. You’re the Ginger Rogers of Life. A badass at everything you do. Far more so than me. From the outside, people might look at us and assume I’m the teacher here—that I’m some sort of Svengali. But the truth is you’ve taught me far more than I’ve taught you. You’ve taught me how to love, Georgie. You’ve taught me how to be happy.”

Well, that does it. Tears spring in my eyes.

“You’re my partner,” he says, his chest heaving. But then, his mouth quirks up with a little half-smile. “My sparring partner, at times, yes. My partner in crime, for sure. But, always, my equal partner.”

My breathing hitches as I try not to sob.

He cups my cheek in his palm. “I thought I knew it all when I met you, Georgina Ricci. I thought I had the whole world figured out. But you came along and showed me what I was missing. You completed me and brought me pure joy. And for that, I’m so grateful. My vow to you, my beloved Georgina, is that I’ll always love and protect you and take care of you. You’ve got me, baby. All of me. And I promise, every day of my life, forever, to make sure I’m the Fred Astaire you rightly deserve.”

***

Best. Wedding. Reception. Ever.

With a loud whoop, I throw my bridal bouquet up and behind my back. And when I spin around to see where my flowers landed, I’m thrilled to discover it’s Zasu, the woman who mentored me during my internship at Rock ‘n’ Roll, who’s caught them. It’s a perfect result, since Zasu is always telling me horror stories from her “hellacious” dating life. Hopefully, those flowers will bring her a prince, the next time she swipes right on Tinder, rather than yet another frog. Although, given that Tinder is Zasu’s primary vehicle for meeting men, I wouldn’t count on it.