Hard Ever After

by Laura Kaye

  And that was officially the first time Nick imagined seeing Becca in her wedding gown—­about to get married to him. And hell if the thought of that didn’t slay him.

  “This is amazing, Emilie,” Becca said as the women hugged.

  “It really is. Thank you,” Nick said, hugging Emilie next. After losing her brother—­who’d been the team’s enemy—­her devotion to everyone in that room was truly amazing. Nick held out his hand to Marz next. “And thank you for not eating the cake before we had a chance to see it.” Marz’s appetite was pretty damn legendary.

  Wearing his trademark grin, Marz nodded. “Dude, it was a close call.” Marz could always be counted on to lighten a moment and make them laugh. Despite the fact that he’d borne the most serious injury from their ambush, he never let his amputation hold him back or get him down. Nick fucking admired that, he really did.

  For a moment, surrounded by everyone he loved, Nick let himself bask in this moment of such fucking perfect contentment.

  The best is yet to come.

  Now that all the bullshit was behind them, Nick absolutely believed it. The future was theirs, and nothing could keep him from his happily ever after with Becca now.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” Nick asked. “Let’s eat some damn cake.”

  Chapter Five

  “I’M REALLY EXCITED to do this today,” Becca said as Nick parked the car along the curb. She’d spent all her free time after work on Tuesday and Wednesday searching local venues, dress shops, caterers, florists, and other things related to planning a wedding. She already had her two days off booked with appointments, just so she could get an idea of what she’d want at her wedding.

  Her wedding! Part of Becca could hardly believe it. She and Nick were getting married. She thought back to the stubborn, standoffish man she’d met that first day at Hard Ink all those months ago, and could only marvel at how far they’d come.

  “Me too,” Nick said. “Besides, whatever makes you happy makes me happy, you know that.”

  She gave him a look. “Smart man.”

  He grinned. “Come on. Let’s go check it out.”

  They stepped out onto Front Street, a little cobblestone-­paved gem right in the middle of downtown Baltimore. At one end of the block stood the towering 1840s Carrollton Inn and at the other, the historic Carroll Mansion, onetime home to Charles Carroll, Maryland’s longest living signer of the Declaration of Independence. A brick-­paved courtyard surrounded by lush gardens joined the two.

  They’d barely stepped through the wrought-­iron gatehouse entrance onto the property before Becca was head over heels in love—­with the historic ambiance, the beautiful architecture, the whole romantic setting. A thrill of excitement shot through her. A few months ago, she’d been worried about losing her only remaining family member. Now, she’d gained a huge new family, had her brother firmly back in her life, and was about to become someone’s wife. It was amazing how quickly life could change. For the good and for the bad.

  “Hello,” a tall woman in a smart pants suit said. With her long black hair and warm brown skin, she was strikingly pretty. “I’m Sonya Mayer, the assistant manager of the inn. Welcome.” Nick and Becca introduced themselves, and Sonya gave them the tour of the inn’s four interior levels and rooms, as well as its outdoor spaces.

  “I can’t believe I’ve never noticed this place before. It’s just gorgeous,” Becca said. The rooms each had their own unique atmosphere and decor, lending elegance to the inn’s charming nineteenth-­century architecture. And the courtyard would be gorgeous for an outdoor wedding, something she’d always wanted.

  “We have our own little enclave back here,” Sonya said. “A little oasis of calm and historical charm in the middle of the city.”

  Becca nodded, struggling to keep her outward cool when inside she was all I want it I want it and I don’t care how much it costs!

  Back downstairs, Sonya guided them to a table where they had a few flower and cake samples laid out. Menus, catalogs, and price lists sat on one corner of the table atop a shiny venue folder.

  “Can I offer you a glass of champagne while we talk?” Sonya asked.

  “I’d love that,” Becca said. “Nick?”

  “Sounds great,” he said. When Sonya departed, he turned to her. “Okay, tell me how much you want this place.”

  Becca managed to hold in her enthusiasm for about five seconds. “It’s so amazing. Don’t you think so? It’s pretty and charming and not too big and—­”

  Nick kissed her. “Done.”

  “It’s pretty expensive, though,” she said.

  He shook his head, his pale green eyes locked on hers. “I don’t care what it costs. If you want it, we’re having it. I like it, too. And we deserve the best to start our new life.”

  “Really?” she asked. “How’d I get so lucky?”

  The smile brought out his dimple. “That’s my line.”

  “Here we go,” Sonya said, settling two crystal champagne flutes down on the table. She had an iPad tucked under her arm.

  “Cheers,” Nick said, clinking glasses with Becca. The champagne was sweet and bubbly, absolutely delicious.

  “So, have you picked a date?” Sonya asked, bringing the iPad to life in front of her.

  Becca looked to Nick. “We only just got engaged,” she said. “If we wanted to have the ceremony outside, I suppose we’d need to do it by the fall or wait until the spring?” Nick nodded and gave her hand a squeeze.

  “Well, let me see,” Sonya said, scrolling through her digital calendar. “We’re actually booking a year out right now. I know all the weekend dates in the fall are completely booked. And I think the spring is, too.” Becca’s shoulders dropped. She shouldn’t have been surprised, really, since most ­people had long engagements to allow them to make their plans. “If you’re interested in a shorter engagement, it looks like . . .” The woman focused on the screen for a long moment. “It looks like I only have two options as of this moment. The third Saturday in December, which would preclude an outdoor ceremony. Or, oh, we had a cancellation on Saturday, August eighth. Though if you’ve only just gotten engaged, I imagine that’s much too soon. Otherwise, our next weekend opening is next July.”

  Becca barely heard anything after the August date. That was three weeks from now. She looked up at Nick. “Is three weeks from now too crazy?”

  The smile he gave her made her fall even more in love with him. “Only in the best possible ways, Sunshine.”

  Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “I could be your wife in three weeks.”

  A heated masculine satisfaction slid into those pale green eyes, and Nick turned to Sonya. “We’ll take August eighth.”

  “IT’S A GOOD thing you’d already made an appointment to look at dresses,” Emilie said as the five women piled out of Shane’s big truck the following day. Sara had sweet-­talked him into letting them borrow it for their girls’ day out.

  “I know, right?” Becca said, still floating over the fact that she was getting married in three weeks. “But the inn was just too perfect to pass up, and neither of us wanted to wait a whole year to get married.”

  Sara elbowed her in the side. “And you’re sure this isn’t a shotgun wedding, right?”

  Grinning, Becca shook her head. She and Nick had been answering this question ever since they’d returned from the inn yesterday after several hours of choosing food, cake, and flowers for their event. “Nope. There’s no bun in this oven, I promise you.” Everyone laughed. Becca walked up to the ornate carved desk and greeted the young woman standing there. “Hi, I’m Becca Merritt.”

  “Welcome, Becca. Please have a seat. Diana will be right out,” the woman said.

  The five friends sat on the overstuffed cream-­colored sofas and nibbled at cookies and fancy wrapped chocolates displayed on plates covering the glass-
­topped end tables. Becca and Nick might be doing this fast, but it all still felt so special to her. She was glad they weren’t waiting.

  A woman with short strawberry-­blond hair wearing a pretty teal wrap dress approached their group. Diana made quick introductions, then took them to a sitting room where Becca could show off the gowns she tried on. “Do you have a date in mind?” Diana asked.

  “I do, and it’s really short notice. August eighth,” Becca said, not missing the woman’s gaze flicker down to her belly and back. Becca almost laughed. “We fell in love with a venue that had a last-­minute cancellation, so we went for it.”

  “Well, we can make this work, Becca. We’ve got quite a few gowns available in our annual sample sale, so let’s see if we can’t find something you love. This way, please.” She led them into a long rectangular room filled with racks of gowns. “Do you have any preferences for color, silhouette, length?”

  “I want to wear a gown that you couldn’t wear any other time,” Becca said. “Something romantic and full. Maybe sleeveless. And I think I prefer white to ivory.”

  “Let’s start with ball gowns and A-­lines, then,” Diana said, already pulling a few things off the racks. “Ladies, feel free to pull anything fun that you see.”

  Becca searched through the gowns, pulling a ­couple of things that caught her eye. Before long, she was in the dressing room neck deep in satin and lace and tulle. Too much tulle in the case of the first dress, which she obligingly showed to her friends even though she knew it wasn’t the one. “What do you think?” she asked as she spun on the dais in front of them.

  Kat made a face. “I think it’s too young for you.”

  Sara nodded. “Too froufrou.”

  Becca laughed. “I agree.” She tried on another, this one in a mermaid cut that wasn’t at all her style. “Who picked this one?” she asked, laughing.

  “What? I thought it was cool,” Sara’s younger sister, Jenna, said. They both had matching red hair.

  “Sadly, I don’t have the hips to pull this off. Or the boobs. Or whatever else you need to make this work.” Becca rolled her eyes as the women nodded and laughed. The third one was closer—­a sleeveless ball-­gown style with lots of lace and beading. “This is gorgeous,” Becca said. “But it’s so heavy I don’t know how I’d dance in it.”

  “I don’t know, Becca,” Emilie said, tucking her brown hair behind her ears. “That one might be worth suffering for.”

  It took five more dresses before Becca fell in love. The white ball gown had a sleeveless sweetheart neckline and gorgeous beading at the waist, while the skirt fell in soft layers of satin, full but not poofy. It was two sizes too big and was missing a few buttons down the back, but Diana assured her it could be taken in and repaired in plenty of time. Staring in the mirror, Becca suddenly felt overwhelmed.

  Kat was the first one to notice. She crossed from the sofa to stand beside Becca. “You okay?”

  Afraid that trying to speak might hasten the threatening tears, Becca just nodded.

  “This is the one, isn’t it?” Kat met Becca’s gaze in the mirror. Despite her petite stature, Kat looked so much like her brothers, with her chocolate brown hair and green eyes—­and even a few shared facial expressions—­that Becca immediately felt at ease. And she realized there was something she needed to ask Katherine.

  “Yeah,” Becca managed. “I don’t need to look anymore.” She turned to face Kat. “Will you be my maid of honor?” They might not have known each other very long, but in the few months since they’d met, they’d bonded hard and fast, not only over their love for the Rixey men but also because of the way Kat had taken care of Becca during the team’s investigation.

  Kat’s eyes went wide. “You want me?”

  “We’re going to be sisters, right? I absolutely want you. If you’ll do it,” Becca said.

  Kat hugged her. “I’d love to stand up for you and Nick. I’m so happy for both of you.”

  “Okay, now. Don’t make me cry. I’m having a hard enough time with that as it is,” Becca said. Everyone laughed. Becca gave herself one last look in the mirror. “Yeah, this is the one.” She turned to see the back of it, all clean, soft lines of satin. On her shoulder, the healing tattoo peeked out through her hair. The design was as beautiful as the words were appropriate, so she had no qualms about the ink showing. She was proud of the gift Nick had given her.

  “Well, then,” Diana said. “Let’s get the tailor to take a look at you, and then we’ll get the ladies started on bridesmaid dresses. Any idea what color you’d like?”

  “Yes,” Becca said. “Kat, can you grab the picture from my purse?” Kat handed Diana the picture of the bridesmaids’ bouquets Becca had chosen. “I figured it might be hard to get one bridesmaid dress that works for everyone in the short time we have,” Becca continued. “So as long as the gown is a shade of purple that matches these flowers, I don’t care what style or length it is. Whatever you guys like.”

  Diana studied the picture, which showed a bouquet with mauve roses, purple hydrangeas, dark purple irises, berry-­colored orchids, burgundy dahlias, and light purple mini carnations. “Oh, yes, we can make this work. I’ll grab the tailor for you and show the girls where to look.”

  In the time it took for Becca to get fitted, everyone found things to try on. And it didn’t take long until all four friends decided on dresses that suited their taste and matched Becca’s color scheme. Kat chose a sleek, sleeveless dark-­purple gown that looked gorgeous with her long brown hair. Emilie picked a mauve V-­neck gown with a satin belt at the waist. Sara chose a satin berry-­colored sheath with cap sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, while Jenna went with a flirty lavender gown with a drop waist and a fuller skirt that accentuated her curves beautifully.

  “You all look stunning,” Becca said when they stood before her. “The guys aren’t going to know what to do with themselves.”

  “Shane’s never seen me in a dress like this before,” Sara said, staring at herself in the mirror. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever owned a dress like this before.”

  Jenna grasped her sister’s hand. Despite being the youngest of the five of them, the Dean sisters had been through hell the past few years, especially Sara, who’d borne the burden of repaying her criminal father’s debts after he’d died, sometimes in ways too horrible to imagine. “Well, it won’t be the last one,” Jenna said, smiling. “But, yeah, it’s gonna be fun seeing their reactions.”

  “I think we’re all pretty guaranteed to get laid at Becca’s wedding,” Kat said with a mischievous grin.

  They all burst into laughter. “When do you not get laid, Kat?” Emilie asked with an arched eyebrow.

  “Aw, don’t even talk to me, Miss Garza, because you and Marz are loud as hell. Not that I mind, because, dude, does he have a mouth on him,” Kat said with a big grin.

  “Oh, my God,” Sara said, her cheeks turning bright pink but her smile saying she was enjoying the teasing.

  “He really does.” Grinning, Emilie shrugged. “The hazards of sharing an unfinished apartment. Can’t be helped.” Kat and Beckett had been staying in the room Nick and Jeremy reserved for her in their apartment until one particularly loud session of lovemaking had apparently caught Jer’s ear. His teasing had been relentless. Finally, Kat and Beckett relocated to an empty room upstairs. As much as they all enjoyed each other’s company, everyone was going to be thrilled when the new building was done, that was for sure.

  Becca could only laugh as the good-­natured ribbing went on. “Well, I know I’m getting laid. The rest of you are on your own.” By the time they’d all been fitted and had paid for their gowns, Becca was pretty sure they were on the verge of getting thrown out of the store.

  They spilled out onto the street, laughing and hungry for lunch. Becca fell behind while she fished for her cell phone in her purse and paused to shoot off a quick text
to Nick.

  All done dress shopping! I’m gonna knock your socks off! ;)

  Nick responded immediately. Sunshine, you already do.

  Grinning, she glanced down the block—­and nearly gasped out loud. Tyrell Woodson stood at the corner, glaring at her.

  “Hey, Becca, come on,” Kat called. Becca blinked and the man was gone. Vanished. A figment of her imagination. Not that her body seemed to know the difference. Heart racing, she caught up with the group as they made their way to an Italian place they’d agreed on earlier. “You okay?” Kat asked.

  “Yeah. Great.” Her voice sounded flat to her own ears. She glanced back over her shoulder. Woodson wasn’t there. Of course. She let out a long breath. She’d gotten through the whole workweek without another incident like the one she’d had with Ben at the end of her first shift back. Clearly, her subconscious wasn’t done worrying about Woodson, though, however unnecessary—­and unfounded—­that worrying was.

  Why was she freaking out about what’d happened to her now? For months, she’d been fine, just an occasional nightmare of being grabbed, being dragged away, being lost and never found. Then again, for most of that time she’d been shut up at Hard Ink with Nick.

  They arrived at the restaurant, and Kat paused before she followed the others inside. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “Because you know my brother will kill me if anything happens to you on my watch.” Kat arched an eyebrow. Though Becca knew she was joking, there’d been a time not too long before when Kat had in fact been Becca’s bodyguard, during a meeting with the man who’d turned out to be responsible for the death of Becca’s dad. Nick had gotten angry at both of them when they’d had to deviate from the original plan to get Becca home safely.

  “You just survived heart surgery, Kat,” Becca said. Kat had gotten shot at the same funeral where Jeremy had been hurt. Watching Nick deal with both of his siblings fighting for their lives was one of the hardest things Becca had ever done. But they’d both pulled through. And now they all deserved a celebration. “Nick is so grateful you’re okay that I’m pretty sure you’ll be able to get away with absolutely anything for the rest of your life,” Becca said with a smile. “And I’m fine, I promise.”