“All we need is a license and a preacher. You have your driver’s license in your purse.”
“Fine. You want to marry me? Let’s get married.”
I climb out of the vehicle and go around to open Hazel’s door.
“Why are you pouting? I thought women love this kind of shit.”
“I’m not. Let’s get this over with.”
“You’re making it sound like a chore.”
“I...is this real?”
“My wanting to marry you?”
“Yes.”
“Wouldn’t fuck around about something this permanent. I want you in every way I can have you. You’re the one I want to build a life with. Have babies with. Grow old with.”
“Shit. I guess we’re getting married then.” She smiles and a tear rivets down her cheek.
It takes about fifteen minutes to get our marriage license.
We drive to the chapel and are informed they have an appointment available in two hours. I take Hazel to a jewelry store for rings. She swears she doesn’t want a dress. I think she is still of the mind I’m not serious about this. I’ve never been surer than I am in this. Hazel is living and breathing proof that there’s someone for everyone, and she’s the woman for me. We go with simple silver bands. Nothing fancy.
Hell. We’re doing this in jeans and tees.
The chapel looks more like a cabin, but it blends seamlessly into the wooded scenery like it’s a painting on a wall in a hunting cabin or some shit. Or as Hazel calls it pretty as a picture.
Chapter Twenty
Marriage wasn’t something I thought would be high on a biker’s list of priorities. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing standing in this gorgeous chapel in the Smoky Mountains about to say I do to the first and only man I’ve ever loved. It’s absolutely insane yet perfect for us. A true dream come to life. A fantasy I had as a girl. One he always laughed off. If reuniting with Benicio has taught me anything it’s to throw caution to the wind and trust that fate didn’t intercept our paths and weave them together a second time for nothing.
When he looks into my eyes, I see love. I see my home. My future. It terrifies me, but its right. I don’t want to question my intuition or second guess his feelings for me. I’ve done enough of that. Every time I come to the same conclusion. That I love this man. He’s right. It doesn’t matter if it happens today or years from now. We were written in the stars, and life is too short not to latch onto every ray of happiness and take chances. So here I am saying those two words that will bind us forever.
“I do,” I vow, repeating the same words he recited moments ago.
Holy strokes the inside of my palm, and I try my damnedest not to shed any tears. I shove his hair back from his eyes. My sexy biker in dark denim, a grey thermal under his cut, desperately in need of a good trim of his facial hair.
I’m convinced I look absolutely feral in my ripped jeans and faded tee. My hair could use a brush, but I’ve never felt more wanted in my life as though I’m his dream girl. I close my eyes and soak this moment in, filing it away for when life gets too much, and I need something pure and true to hold on to.
“You may now kiss the bride.” The man has barely gotten the words out before Holy claims my lips coming in hard, deep, greedy, and full of tongue. I return his kiss swept up in the romance of it all. The lit candles and beautiful red and white roses along with the soft music. This fire for him burns inside me. I can’t get enough.
The preacher clears his throat, and we disentangle long enough to have our picture snapped. The end of the ceremony and the drive to the cabin my husband rented for the night is a blur. I want him bad. Knowing he’s mine somehow makes him hotter. I don’t pay any attention to our beautiful surroundings. I’m eager to get behind closed doors for all the dirty things he’s going to do to me under the pale moonlight filtering through the windows as we enter our honeymoon destination.
The fireplace is lit and crackling. A bucket of champagne on ice. Chocolate covered and plain strawberries next to the tub full of warm bubbles. “You arranged this?”
“Had a little help from East.”
I nod and start stripping, eager to get in the tub. I’m in desperate need of a bath, and I get to do it with my man. My biker husband. It’s so foreign to think of those words together but it fits. We fit. I stare at him as he too takes off all his clothes. It hits me. I’m alive again. The time we were apart. The years I spent running I was merely surviving. Coasting from one day to the next. Thinking girls like me belonged nowhere and to no one, but it’s so clear to me now. I belong wherever Benicio is. He climbs into the tub first and I enter second, settling between his legs leaning back on his chest and shoulder. The warm water and bubbles clinging to my skin. The whole scene is so damn beautiful. The lost girl I was is dead and I’m reborn. The sins I committed for survival washed away as I’m transported to paradise in his arms.
His lips brush along my jaw. “Love you, Hazel.”
“I love you, Beni.”
I glance up and hold his gaze.
The big picture window behind the tub has a beautiful view of the mountains. Big pines capped with snow. The remnants of winter holding on for a few more weeks.