King (Sydney Storm MC 7)
“You didn’t?”
“I did.”
“Oh my God, it was so expensive.”
“Yeah.”
“You said there was no way you’d pay that much for a piece of fucking dirt.” They’d been his exact words.
“I also said, years ago, that I’d never get fucking married. And here we fucking are.”
I blinked furiously, trying to stop my tears from falling. “I love you, King.” My words choked out.
“I love you, too, woman, so hurry the fuck up and get your ass here so I can make you mine.”
“I’m already yours.”
“Yeah, but I want my last name next to your first one so the entire fucking world knows it.”
My tears fell.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I muttered through the tears. “My girls were right about you and today, and you didn’t even need to see me in a dress to give me this side of you. But stop talking; otherwise, my face is going to be a mess by the time you see it.”
“Who’s driving you?”
“Devil.”
“Put him on.”
I handed the phone over to Devil and took the tissue and mirror Tatum held out for me. Dabbing my tears carefully, I did my best to fix my face. By the time I finished, Devil had passed my phone back. My heart had almost returned to normal function when a text came through.
King: There better be fucking bows.
And there went my heart again.
King was a hard man, but for me, he had some soft. It only peeked through occasionally, but it lit my world like nothing else.
12
King
Lily was fucking beautiful.
Not that I needed to see her in a sparkly fucking dress to know that, but Christ, I’d never seen a woman more beautiful than my wife.
She’d put up with my shit this week.
She’d managed to get everyone ready earlier today, with little notice; she’d made her way across floodwaters in a fucking dinghy, without complaint; she’d trudged through mud in gumboots while hiking that sparkly dress up, without complaint; and she’d promised to love me forever, in spite of knowing how fucking hard I was to live with.
My wife would have the world.
And I would be the one to fucking give it to her.
“Whoever organised this wedding and reception deserves a raise,” Hannah said, taking the seat next to me in the clubhouse bar where I’d decided to hold the reception. It was Lily’s seat, but she was up dancing with my sisters while I kicked back and enjoyed the show.
Hannah hadn’t said much to me all day, but that was only because she hadn’t had the chance yet. I’d known this conversation was coming and had looked forward to getting it out of the way. Lily’s mother didn’t tend to hold grudges for long, but she always had to have the last fucking say.
“I don’t disagree with you,” I said, eyeing Tatum who sat talking with Nitro at the next table. She’d come through for me, but I hadn’t expected anything less. And I knew I’d pay a fuckload for it at some point.