Emmie followed his gaze for a moment, shook her head, and then focused one Lyric and me. “You two look great. And I just saw the brides.” She smiled, making her look as young as the woman who was standing five feet behind her with a redheaded little girl between her and the guy named Barrick who had come to Tuscany for Monroe. “Don’t let your jaws hit the ground too hard when you get a look at them.”
With a pat to Lyric’s arm, she left us standing there, and all I could do was wish time would hurry the fuck up
so I could see Monroe.
Several more minutes passed before the music started and the crowd parted to make an aisle. The MC and rockers blended together, no one seeming to care which side they stood on. The little redheaded girl who looked just like Emmie started down the aisle next to an older girl with the curliest hair I’d ever seen and the most dazzling aquamarine eyes, both of them tossing flowers on the floor. A little boy with the same dark curls and eyes followed them, holding a pillow with four rings tied on top.
“Look, Papa,” the little redheaded angel called out, and a guy to my left put his finger to his lips, trying to quiet her. “Look! Am I doing this shit right?”
“Emerson!” her mother scolded, while everyone else fought in vain not to laugh outright.
“Well, am I?” she sassed, and I had to bite my lips together to keep from laughing.
Lyric bent as she reached us. “You did great, Little Em,” he praised and fist-bumped her.
Her emerald eyes lifted to me, a brow raised as if asking my opinion as well. “Great job, kid,” I told her and held out my own fist for her to pound hers against.
“I knew I nailed this shit,” she said as she bounced over to the side where the two other kids were.
“Who taught her that word?” I thought I heard her mother demanding, her gaze on Emerson’s Papa, who shrugged innocently.
“Not me, baby girl.”
“Right,” Barrick chuckled. “It’s never him.”
All my amusement at the moment faded the second the music changed and I saw movement at the back of the crowd. My breath became trapped in my chest when I saw Monroe for the first time. Her hair was hanging in long ringlets over one shoulder, and her dress fit her like a second skin. The tiny baby bump was barely noticeable but I could easily see it, and it only made it that much harder to take my next breath.
This beautiful, sweet, precious girl was mine. She loved me. Had given me her heart and her body and trusted me to always take care of her. I had all the money in the world, but not a single cent of it held any value without her there to give meaning to my life.
Her gaze caught and held mine, her eyes shining like diamonds as she smiled.
Beside me, Lyric reached out, grabbing both my arm and his brother’s, as if he needed us to keep him standing upright, and I had to tear my eyes from Monroe to see what was wrong with him.
But his eyes were glued to Mila, who stood on the other side of her father. Her dress was similar to Monroe’s yet completely different at the same time. Her wedding gown had a sexier edge to it, whereas Monroe’s was simpler and more elegant. Yet they reflected both their personalities perfectly.
After a small pause at the end of the aisle, Masterson finally started walking his daughters toward us, and I had to lock my knees to keep from running to my precious girl and taking her away from her father. I stood there, impatiently waiting for the minister to say the first prayer and then ask who was giving the brides away.
And then Monroe’s father was placing her hand in mine before he did the same with Mila and Lyric. As soon as Monroe’s fingers skimmed over my palm, I could breathe again.
Bending my head, I kissed her, just as I promised her I would.
“Is it over already?” I heard a sassy little voice demanding from my left. “I thought they kissed at the end?”
Giggling, Monroe glanced over at Emerson, her cheeks a pretty pink from my demanding kiss. “No, sweetheart. It’s just the beginning.”
“Yes,” I agreed, and I brushed my lips over hers again. “The best beginning.”
Epilogue
Monroe
“Fuck!” Mila screamed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. This hurts. Make it stop.”
I bit back my own groans of pain and tried to remain calm. One of us freaking everyone out was plenty.
“Baby, please, just have the epidural,” Lyric pleaded.
“No. Fuck that. I don’t need drugs. The doctor said I could have these babies naturally, and I’m going to do it natural as fuck.”