Vowing Love

by Adrienne Giordano

  Ugh. Nothing good came from a sentence starting like that. Brynne shook her head. “Don’t say it.”

  She’d been to this show before. At her first wedding he’d done the obligatory we-can-call-this-off. In hindsight, she should have listened to him. Then again, she had to take that journey to find her way to Reid.

  Whatever the universe had in store, nothing would be called off. The last five hours had been a trip from heaven to hell and back again. The emotional ride alone had exhausted her. And now, Reid was about to become her husband.

  God help her, she’d need stamina for that.

  In an effort to get moving, she took one step that was halted by his refusal to move.

  “But—” he said.

  No buts. Nuh-uh. She angled back, looking right at him to make sure he understood. “Dad, I love him. After what he did today, I’m more sure of it than ever. Despite what that woman put us through, all he cared about was making sure he didn’t hurt her. That her children wouldn’t grow up without their mother.” She let out a hard breath. “He’s either the world’s biggest fool or an angel. Either way, he’s my life. This talk of yours isn’t necessary. I know what I want and he’s waiting in a gazebo he built me.”

  Dad gave her the dead-eyed stare that still managed to give her the willies. “After that fiasco this morning, I’m angry. But he kept you safe.”

  Brynne smiled. “He always will. He’s maddening sometimes, but I know I can count on him.”

  Cello music, Mozart’s “Ave Verum Corpus,” drifted from the yard, letting her know her groom was ready for her. She glanced at the edge of a white tent peeping around the side of the house. “That’s our cue, Dad. And I’m more than eager, so let’s hit it.”

  Dad let out a resigned sigh. “Well, I did hear something about a shrimp boil.”

  The classic Steele family shrimp boil. That would come later. After the five-course meal Reid had initially bitched about the cost of. He’d quickly changed his mind upon seeing the menu. The man’s libido and stomach basically overruled any argument his mind might conjure.

  Finally, Dad took a step and Brynne didn’t bother fighting a smile. This morning, her nerves had poked at her, tingled up the back of her neck, reminding her that her first attempt at marriage had been an epic failure. Now? Nothing. Just…peace. The confidence that came with knowing her man would always protect her.

  No matter what.

  They walked along wide wooden planks, a must-have, the wedding planner stated, so Brynne’s heels didn’t sink into the grass and knock her on her rear. A white runner lined with deep red rose petals covered them, giving an added boost to the romantic outdoor wedding vibe.

  Still shielded by the tent, she made the turn to the back of the house, keeping her gaze on the opening where she’d step into view for what should have been Reid’s first glimpse of her.

  Somehow, it didn’t matter. They were here and everyone was safe.

  The music paused and, as rehearsed, so did Brynne. One minute, the planner had said, so everyone could stand. In sixty short seconds she’d see Reid, finally, in the tux he insisted on buying so he’d have it forever. Who knew the knuckle-dragger was a romantic? Also, it skeeved him to wear a rented one. What if, he’d said, some guy freeballed it? Even a good cleaning didn’t clear that.

  God, she loved him.

  The music changed and a massive burst of joy exploded inside her, bringing a smile so wide she may have cracked her makeup. Dad swung his head around, staring at her, mouth agape. Ooh, she wished she could see the guests’ reactions. Reid, she knew, would be smiling. He always did love the shock factor—and the recorded version of “Now That We Found Love” by Heavy D and The Boyz sure gave it.

  She stepped into the aisle, into gleaming sunlight. Straight ahead of her, Reid’s laughing smile vanished. Just…gone, taking all her joy from seconds ago with it. Something was wrong. The dress. The one she’d been so sure he’d like. He must hate it. Too sexy probably. Dammit.

  She trembled and Dad gripped her arm. “Are you okay?”

  No.

  Then Reid did it. He gave her the look. That slick smile of his and, even from this distance, with two hundred people between them, she sensed the intensity of his dark blue gaze. It had become her signal that he was about to jump her and give her a mind-blowing orgasm.

  Oh, thank God.

  Gaze locked on Reid’s, she passed their loved-ones, taking in the oohs and ahhs. Between the music and dress, her soon-to-be husband got the shock factor he loved so much.

  They reached the first row of chairs and Reid, refusing to look anywhere but at her, stepped forward.

  “You look amazing,” he said. “I’m…God, Brynne, I’m so happy.”

  Beside her, Dad cleared his throat. A chorus of laughter came from the guests. Reid turned to them. “Hey, cut me some slack. I’m new at this.”

  “Please,” Dad said, “someone save me.” His voice was filled with the sarcastic wit Brynne was so accustomed to. She smiled up at him and he laughed. “He’s your problem now, my girl.”

  “He sure is,” Reid agreed.

  “Hello?”

  Brynne and Reid both turned to Grif, standing in the gazebo. He held his hands out. “Are we doing this or what?”

  For the first time, Brynne glanced around. At her bridesmaids—Evie, Micki, and her sister along with three of her closest friends—all so pretty and happy. Then to Gage, who winked. And Britt and Jonah behind him, whispering to each other and laughing.

  A Steele event.

  Always an adventure.

  Her sister appeared beside her, casually taking her bouquet while Reid faced her dad and nodded. “Thank you, sir, for allowing me to marry your daughter. Makes me the luckiest guy alive.”

  A gush of warmth shot into Brynne’s chest and she lifted her chin an inch. This is what Reid did for her. Gave her confidence, a self-assuredness she’d never experienced before.

  How she loved him.

  Dad patted Brynne’s hand and slid his arm from hers. “You’re welcome. Take care of her.” He looked down at her with moist eyes. Her Dad. Crying.

  “Oh, Daddy, I love you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I love you. I’ll let y’all take it from here.”

  Reid held her hand as they climbed the two steps into the gazebo where Grif, in one of his slick suits and a mile-wide grin, waited. “Tick-tock,” he said. “After this day, I’m ready to drink.”

  “So you’re one of those ministers,” Reid cracked.

  “Bet your ass. I guess this is where I do my thing.” Then Grif looked out at the guests. “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Reid and Brynne in holy matrimony. They have chosen you to share and celebrate the beginning of their life as husband and wife. Reid and Brynne have written their own vows and broken tradition by having Brynne recite them first.” He held a hand to Brynne. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Facing Reid, she took a second to absorb the moment. The familiarity of his touch, their loved-ones, that feeling of…hope…and joy. All of it happening at once.

  This man.

  Hers.

  “Reid,” she said, “with you, I laugh more. I smile more and I dream more. Thank you for being you. For being strong and caring. My protector. Even when I don’t always want that, I know you’ll take care of me. Thank you for encouraging me, making me feel beautiful and loved, even on bad days. Thank you for teaching me to love again and have the courage to share it. With you, I believe again. You are my miracle.” She smiled and leaned in so only he would hear the next little bit. “Even when you make me insane.” His already beaming smile shone a little brighter and she squeezed his hand. “I promise to stand with you, and support you for the rest of our lives. You are my everything. I will always cherish you.”

  There. She’d done it. Given herself over to him. Completely. With that came contentment. And pride.

  Now it was his turn. They’d worked on these vo
ws for months, running them by each other, making sure they represented their personalities and love for each other.

  She’d all but memorized his. How he’d love her forever, hold her, and listen when she needed it.

  His hands trembled. Bad ass Reid Steele. Nervous.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered.

  “I know. I’m so damned happy.” He leaned in, got right next to her ear. “I love you, my Brynnie.”

  “Uh, you two about done?” Minister Grif asked. “Shall we continue?”

  Reid straightened. “Brynne,” he said, “I promise to laugh with you in times of joy and offer comfort in times of sorrow. To…to…uh…Wait.” He shook his head. “I’m…sorry.”

  Nuh, nuh, nuh. After this insane day, what else could he be sorry for?

  He met her gaze and squeezed her hands. “I can’t do it.”

  “Wh—what?”

  “Dude,” Grif said. “Don’t make me kill you.”

  Brynne locked her jaw, forced her mouth to not drop in shock. What the hell did he mean?

  He’d better not be bailing on her now.

  Murmurs sounded from their guests and her pulse slammed.

  “Wait,” he said. “No. Not. No! Not you. Not…this.”

  She tipped forward, resting her forehead against his chest. Right there in front of everyone. And this would be on video. Excellent.

  Quickly, she stood tall, lifting her chin and smiling through gritted teeth. “Reid, you’re slowly destroying me today. What’s the problem?”

  “The vows. I want something…different.”

  “You could have mentioned it sooner.”

  “I know. I know. But after this morning, it got to me. And, well. Screw it.”

  Oh. My. God. “Screw it?”

  “Yeah. I’m winging it.”

  She opened her mouth, but only a gagging sound came out.

  “Brynne, it’ll be good. I promise.”

  Finally, she turned to their whispering guests and offered a faux-cheery smile. “In case you missed it, my groom has decided he’s winging our vows.”

  “Oh, dear Lord,” Miss Joan said from the first row. “Reid Sullivan Steele.”

  Without looking at his mother, he held up a hand. “We’re good, Mama.”

  “It really is never dull with you,” Grif said.

  Reid ignored him and focused on Brynne with blue eyes that melted her.

  “My Brynne. Brynnie. You are my brightest light and forever love. The last thing we do at night is say I love you. Wherever we are, whatever we’re doing, even if we’re mad—which, you know, with me, happens a lot—we say it.”

  Laughter sounded from their guests, all of whom obviously knew Reid quite well. Reid waited for the the snorts to die down then continued. “We focus on the good instead of the bad. Thank you for loving me. For believing in me. With you, I am the best version of myself. From today on, I promise I’ll try harder to listen rather than speak and to make you laugh more than cry. I promise to love you without end. You’ve—”

  He paused, pushing his broad shoulders back as tears welled-up in his eyes. Her hot-shot Green Beret getting emotional. Her love for him exploded, bringing a wild burst of happiness that filled her. She squeezed his hands, urging him on.

  “You’ve taken a broken, lost man and given him a life to be proud of. I promise to always take care of you. Whatever challenges come up, we’ll fight them together. Always. Today, I vow to give more than I take. And to put you first, always. Even when you get sassy with me. I love you. I will always love you. Thank you for making my dreams come true.”

  That tore it. All that happiness spurted up and she blinked back happy tears. They’d done it. Defied all kinds of crazy odds and built a life.

  “I love you,” she said.

  He dipped his head and kissed her, a long, slow brush of his lips that was soft and gentle, but promised what she knew would be an amazing night filled with love. Ditching propriety, she angled her head, deepening the kiss and adding a little tongue the way he liked it. Someone let out a whoop.

  “Uh,” Grif said, “I didn’t say you could kiss the bride.”

  Reid broke the contact, backing away a smidge. “Fu—screw you, Grif,”

  Apparently amused by their own antics, the two of them laughed and all Brynne could think was that, too, would be on the wedding video.

  Welcome to life as Mrs. Reid Steele.

  * * *

  Enjoy an excerpt from Adrienne Giordano’s Craving HEAT, Book One in the Steele Ridge: The Kingstons series:

  Craving HEAT

  by Adrienne Giordano

  Chapter 1

  “You cannot be serious.”

  Jayson slid a sideways glance at his agent and his rare use of a condescending tone. During negotiations, Grif generally voiced his opinions in a direct, unquestioning manner. Something Jay admired in the man. Never a runaround. Only truth. Reality as seen by Grif Steele.

  This reality sucked.

  Big-time.

  Sitting across from Jay at the oversized conference table, Drew Chandler wouldn’t—or couldn’t—meet his eye. The hand-painted Knights logo on the wall behind Jay monopolized his attention.

  The guy always was a spineless weasel and this episode proved it. When wrecking a man’s life, the least he could do was look that man in the eye.

  “I assure you,” Drew said, “we’re very serious.”

  Not I. We. As in an entire organization. One that Jayson had spent the whole of his professional football career representing.

  All those years and this is what he got?

  Beside Drew, Eli Paskins, the team’s major shareholder, held up both hands.

  The Knights held the distinction of being the United States Football Federation’s only publicly owned team and being the major shareholder, Eli participated in potentially high-impact decisions.

  Like releasing a franchise player.

  One Paskins himself had recruited. His word was rule, but he also took the unenviable heat from shareholders when profits were down.

  Over the years, Jay had assisted Eli in any number of team-related activities. Everything from player issues to press briefings to charity events, Jayson Tucker, superstar quarterback, had been right there, stumping for his team, letting everyone know the Knights were the team to watch.

  “Gentlemen, please,” Eli said.

  Grif huffed out a breath, his frustration with the proceedings evident.

  “Grif,” Drew said, “you’ve put the screws to me for years. Don’t play like you’re horrified.”

  “I may have put the screws to you, but I’m not playing. I am horrified.”

  At certain times, Jay didn’t mind his agent speaking for him. Right now? No way. He’d spent years leading this team, on and off the field, getting his head beat in and maintaining a cool under fire image under a brutal spotlight, and the front office wanted him gone. Fast.

  A knife slice ripped at him. His career.

  Over.

  Everything. Gone, gone, gone.

  Before he’d experienced a championship.

  And that pissed Jay off.

  Grif leaned in, ready to launch into an argument, but Jay gave him a backhanded flick on the arm. “Don’t bother.” He faced Drew and Paskins again, his direct glare leveled on Drew. He’d deal with Paskins, his friend, in a minute. “You’re releasing me after everything I’ve done for this team—all the dog and pony shows, keeping your locker room in check, which hell, that’s no picnic, and oh, right, grooming that pain in the ass rookie quarterback for my job. And you’re not asking for my side of this thing. What the fuck does that say?”

  “Tuck,” Paskins said, “take it easy.”

  Tuck, my ass.

  From the second Jay had walked in here, it had been all formal use of his name. Now, with him getting, as Paskins liked to say, a little hot, his boss wanted to knock the edge off things by using Jay’s nickname.

  Jay wasn’t having it. Not for a second
. Not for the tiniest fucking tenth of a second.

  “You’re destroying my career and reputation. We’re not talking just football. There are endorsements, too. This is my goddamned livelihood. Why the hell would I take it easy?”

  Paskins’s dark eyebrows hitched up and his mouth hung open, expressing the fake revulsion he wanted Jay to buy.

  Finally, he forced a choppy breath. “I’m destroying your career. I gave you your first big-league contract. And when that contract was up, I made you the highest-paid quarterback in the league. When have I not supported you?”

  Uh, how about now? “Check your calendar. It’s Tuesday. The press has been dogging me since Sunday night and management has shown zero support. Aside from long-standing teammates, there’s been radio silence from an organization I’ve spent fifteen years pimping myself out for. Am I the highest-paid quarterback? You bet. I earn every cent.”

  “He’s right,” Grif said, “you know this is crap. If you release him, I’ll find a way to sue you. Count on it.”

  Drew ignored Grif’s threat, and for the first time, looked at Jayson. Dead on. “You attacked a player. In a locker room full of reporters. He’s a first-round draft pick. How do I defend that?”

  Fighting to keep his temper in check—and avoid saying something stupid—Jay drove his heel into the carpet. After two days of his superiors failing him, he was smart enough to not take a chance on them leaking the events of this meeting to the press. Lifting one hip, he reached into his pocket for his phone and retrieved the video he’d watched at least a hundred times. “You tell the truth,” he said. “Say you benched Eric Webb, your golden boy rookie quarterback, and he retaliated by nearly having my head knocked off.” He tossed the phone on the table. “Take a look. Real close. That’s Rajae Evans and his illegal hit that could have paralyzed me, and all the guy gets is a one-game suspension. And Golden Boy, a guy I’ve put more man-hours into than I can count, set me up.”

  “You don’t know that,” Drew said.

  “The hell I don’t. Evans was Golden Boy’s college roommate. You think that’s a coincidence?”

  Jay pulled air through his nose, forced himself to breathe and settle his thumping heart. Retreating to the logo behind Jay, Drew broke eye contact. Of course he did.