by Eden Summers
She should’ve known that was what he’d do. And although the pain hadn’t subsided, he’d cleared her mind, helping her to resolve the hormonal insecurities, while sharing her suffering. The grief that stemmed from losing a newly conceived baby was hard to explain. She hadn’t been blessed with feeling her child kick from inside her, or the blurred images of an ultrasound. She hadn’t had anything physically within her grasp to lose, yet the concept of that baby was enough to tear her apart.
Blake seemed to understand that, and no words could express her gratitude. He completed her, making the hardships in her life bearable, turning the hurt into love, and the love into something that went beyond words. Marrying him was exactly what she wanted to do, and not even having her parents miss this special occasion would make her second guess her decision.
As soon as she’d said “yes,” they’d rushed to the Marriage License Bureau, arranged the forms they needed, and with Leah’s help, found a wedding chapel still open at midnight.
Apart from loved ones back home, Gabi was surrounded by people who had become her closest friends—her adopted family. Leah, Alana, and Mitch sat in the first pew to the left of the aisle, while Sean, Mason, and Ryan were on the right, with the two bodyguards remaining in the foyer.
Up until this moment, her life with Blake had been hectic, a rollercoaster of emotions. Yet right here, right now, it was quiet, relaxed, almost an eerie calm that cemented her confidence in marrying the man of her dreams.
Blake stood tall at the front of the chapel, his shoulders straight, his grin wide with warmth as he chatted with his friends. He was gorgeous. He always would be, and once they left here tonight, he’d forever be hers. She knew that now. No matter how many women tried to seduce him, or how many times they argued, Blake would always stay true to her.
Her smile widened as she stole silent moments to watch him. She adored everything her man had to offer—his compassion, the way his spiked raven hair stood out at humorous angles, the grin that melted her panties, and most of all, his love. Then his body turned toward her, and he stiffened.
She couldn’t tear her gaze away. She never could. Even if she lived to be a hundred and five, her lifetime would never be long enough with this man. Never long enough spent under the captivating spell of his dark irises, or memorizing the designs of his deliciously inked skin.
He was made for her.
She took her first step into the room, then another, bringing herself closer to contentment. Each movement propelled her toward the only man who would ever bring her happiness. Silence reigned around them, the gazes of their friends making her self-conscious, but she didn’t falter, didn’t waver her gaze from Blake and the admiration in his eyes.
When she reached the head of the aisle, he held out his hand, welcoming her with an appreciative stare. Without pause, she entwined their fingers, leaving her bouquet to fall limp in her free hand. Warmth radiated from him as he tugged her forward, wrapping his arm around her waist and bringing them chest to chest.
“You look gorgeous,” he murmured. His mouth found hers for a brief brush of lips before he pulled back to stare down at her.
“Thank you.” The strapless gown was another purchase Alana had helped make on the way to the chapel. The top was a delicate bodice of crystal beads and glittered thread with the white satin material falling like a curtain from her waist. Simple yet elegant. Around her neck sat the white gold necklace Blake gave her for her birthday, the charms a constant reminder of the bond they shared. And on her feet were the red stiletto heels she’d worn to the bachelorette party. They didn’t match her outfit in the slightest, and she didn’t care. This was a ceremony about love and a commitment of forever. Style played no part, especially if you took note of Mason’s solitary eyebrow, Mitch plastered with bridal make-up, Ryan’s orange glow, and Sean’s busted face.
“Are you ready?” A voice spoke from behind Blake.
Gabi glanced over his shoulder, finding a middle-aged man waiting for them, his smile warm and friendly.
“I’ve been ready for years,” Blake replied, still having the ability to make her tingle from head to toe.
“OK, then, let’s get you two married.”
***
Blake stared at Gabi, vaguely hearing the words of the marriage ceremony drift through his consciousness. He didn’t care about the official words, they meant nothing to him. They weren’t personalized to encompass the way he felt about the flawless woman before him. They didn’t show an ounce of the emotion he held for her. They were merely the necessary sentences to make them man and wife. And that was what they both needed.
“Would you like to recite your own vows?” the man whispered.
Blake grinned at Gabi’s wide-eyed expression and raised his chin. “I’ll say my own.”
“But…” Gabi’s mouth worked as she glanced from Blake to the marriage official and back again. “I haven’t prepared any.”
“Don’t worry, angel.” He lifted their entwined fingers to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “You can repeat the traditional vows.”
Her brow furrowed, but she gave a soft nod. “OK.”
“Great. I’ll get you started, Mr. Kennedy. Please repeat after me, I, Blake Kennedy, take you Gabrielle Smith, to be my wife.”
Blake’s cheeks lifted, and his heart did the biggest fucking flip of his life. A year ago, hell, even a few months ago, he never thought he’d be the happiest man in the world, standing tall in a dodgy Vegas chapel, smiling at the only woman he would ever love.
“I, Blake Kennedy, take you, Gabrielle Smith, to be my wife.” He inhaled, filling his lungs with the sweet floral fragrance of her hair. God, he adored that scent. God, he adored her. “I didn’t know happiness until I found you. I didn’t know love until your lips brushed mine. And I’ll never go another day without you in my life. You are everything to me. Everything, Gabi.”
A feminine sniffle came from the first pew. He ignored it, empowered by the way his angel beamed back at him. “I promise I’ll die still trying to make you as happy as you’ve made me.”
“You make me happy,” she whispered.
There was a pause of silence before the official spoke, “If you’ll repeat after me, Gabi. I, Gabrielle Smith, take you, Blake Kennedy, to be my husband.”
Gabi squeezed Blake’s hand and inhaled a shaky breath. “I, Gabrielle Smith, take you, Blake Kennedy, to be my husband.”
“To share the good times, and the hard times, side by side,” the official continued.
Gabi glanced at the man, then back up at Blake. “No.” She shook her head, and Blake’s legs weakened. Was she backing out of the ceremony already?
“I’ll do my own.”
“Shit, Gabi,” Blake muttered. “Don’t scare me like that.”
Her lips widened with the most dazzling, brilliantly beautiful smile.
“Blake, you’re my strength, my peace, my everything. And even though I regret not thinking about vows until two minutes ago, I want you to know that you mean the world to me. I can’t imagine waking up every morning without your cheeky smile to brighten my day. You complete my life. You make me whole, and I promise to never take you for granted.”
She glanced over her shoulder, smiling at their friends, then turned back to him, her eyes glassy with forming tears. “You’ve given me a new family, and one day—” she faltered, her smile fading as her lips trembled. “And one day,” she puffed out a breath and squared her shoulders. “I hope we can make one of our own.”
Christ. A knife stabbed through his chest, hard and unyielding. He’d had a tough life—shitty parents, poverty, drug addiction, yet nothing was harder to bear than watching Gabi suffer. He circled her waist with his free hand, not giving a shit that he squashed her flowers when he pulled her into his body. She sunk into him, her cheek resting against his shoulder.
The official cleared his throat, and Blake met his questioning gaze. “Would you like me to give you a moment?”
“No.�
� Gabi shook her head. “Please continue.”
“Who has the rings?”
“I do,” Blake answered, pulling them from his pocket and holding them out in the palm of his hand. Gabi leaned back and smiled as she reached for the white gold ring he’d picked for himself. They were temporary pieces, both costing less than a grand, and nowhere near good enough to adorn Gabi’s hand. But they would do for tonight.
“Blake, as you place the ring on Gabi’s finger, please repeat after me.”
Blake lifted her soft hand in his, positioning her ring at the tip of her trembling wedding finger. For the first time in an hour, his heart was pounding for reasons other than pain. Her smile, the one that came freely, without sorrow, spread across her face, and he grinned back at her in disbelief. This woman, this perfect, adorable, strong willed, hearted, and minded woman, was about to be his. For life.
“I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion,” the official stated.
Blake cleared his throat and peered into Gabi’s eyes as he repeated. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion.” He slid the ring to the top of her finger, thankful that it fit perfectly. “I will always be faithful. I will always put your needs before mine, and I will never stop loving you.”
“Gees, someone’s getting carried away,” Mason interrupted.
Blake shook his head with a laugh, and chuckles echoed from the front pew. He couldn’t help getting carried away. He wanted Gabi to know what she meant to him, even though no amount of words would ever achieve that.
“I think it’s sweet,” Gabi murmured.
“Your turn, Gabi. Please repeat after me.”
She copied what Blake had done, placing his ring at the top of his finger and didn’t wait for the official before reciting the words. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and devotion.”
His stomach tilted, somersaulted, fucking convulsed while she slid the ring into place, making them husband and wife.
“Nothing will ever come between us,” she continued.
Blake clutched her hand, squeezing it tight as he smiled at her, waiting impatiently for the official to finish reciting the marriage declaration. He wanted to get her out of here and into his bed. This time though, it wasn’t for fooling around. She told him intimacy wouldn’t be possible for a while, but he needed to hold her, to entwine their legs, stare into her eyes and run his hands through her smooth hair.
“Blake and Gabrielle, marriage is the clasping of hands, the bending of hearts, and the union of two lives as one. Your marriage must stand, not by the authority of the state, nor by the words of the marriage official, but by the strengths of your love and the power of faith in each other. May your marriage be consumed with love and happiness, and your lives together filled with patience, tolerance and understanding.”
Gabi’s smile spread, lifting her cheeks, brightening her eyes. She clung to his hand, squeezing his fingers tight as she bit her lip.
“Ladies and gentlemen, Gabrielle and Blake have declared before all of us that they will live together in marriage. They have made special promises to each other. They have symbolized it by joining hands, taking vows and exchanging rings. I, therefore, declare Blake and Gabrielle to be husband and wife. Are you ready for your first kiss as a married couple?”
Blake’s palms began to sweat.
“You better believe it,” Gabi announced, untwining their fingers to clutch the front of his shirt. She pulled him close, grinning even though a lone tear streaked her cheek.
He chuckled, placing his mouth against hers, trying to kiss life back into her soul. He gripped her hips, lifting her off the ground and continued to savor her lips while he carried her higher. A wolf whistle split the air with cheers, laughter, and applause.
He was married. He had a fucking gorgeous wife. And for the rest of his life—no, even in death, there would never be another woman for him.
Mitch focused on Alana’s ass as she stormed ahead, keeping her distance along the hotel hallway. She’d been silent since the end of the ceremony, and he’d kind of hoped it was because she was upset over Gabi and Blake’s loss. Nope. She was pissed off, and no matter how hot she looked in those fuck me boots and her thigh-high dress, there was no way he was getting laid again tonight.
“It was a nice wedding, don’t ya think?” he called out, wanting to know the degree of her anger before they entered the confined space of their suite.
“Yeah,” she snarled.
Blake and Gabi had retreated to the hotel after the wedding, and Leah had retired for the night. So Mitch followed his fiancée back to the Bellagio for some naked play. Only now he second guessed his decision. Maybe he should’ve gone to the strip club with Mason and Sean after all.
His sweet and innocent Allie was furious.
Up ahead, she opened the suite door with the swipe of the room card and went inside, not bothering to hold it open for him. She would’ve left him standing in the hall if he hadn’t jammed his foot into the doorway in time.
“What’s your problem?” he asked, storming inside, letting tiredness and the waning alcoholic buzz fuel his frustration. It wasn’t as if he had any control over the stupid shit his friends did.
She paused in front of the kitchenette and turned on her heels. “What’s my problem?” She placed her hands on her hips, squaring her shoulders. That was the exact moment when Mitch realized how much shit he was in.
“What’s my problem? We’re getting married in,” she glanced at her dainty silver watch, “less than forty hours, and after what you and your stupid friends did tonight, I’m going to have to stand at the altar with a fiancé who is accompanied by dumb and fucking-dumber. Not to mention Ryan, who looks like the spokesman for Fanta.”
Yep…he was in a whole heap of trouble. When Alana dropped an f-bomb, it was usually a good sign that he needed to back the hell up.
“Sean’s face is covered in bruises. And Mason...” She frowned and threw her hands up in the air. “He has one eyebrow. One eyebrow, Mitch!” Alana shook her head in disgust, turned and stormed toward their bedroom.
He began following her, and then stopped when she slammed the door. “Yeah, OK, so I guess I’ll sleep on the couch.”
She didn’t answer.
Fuck this. It wasn’t his fault Sean and Mason were childish pricks. He never wanted to do those stupid challenges in the first place. This was Leah’s fault. She should answer to the fury, not him.
He strode to the bedroom door, flung it open and stalked to Alana who stood near the head of the bed, reaching behind her back to undo her dress. “This isn’t my fault, sugar,” he snarled. “I have no control over what those assholes do. And I’m sorry the wedding won’t be perfect like you imagined, but that’s tough shit.”
She jerked back. “Tough shit? Nice, Mitchell, real nice. I’ve spent too many long hours and sleepless nights planning our special day to shrug and say ‘oh well’.” She shook her head and turned her back to him. “I can’t believe you.”
“Why are you so worried?”
“Are you serious?” she swung around and got in his face.
He pressed his lips together, using every ounce of his intoxicated restraint so he didn’t burst into laughter. It didn’t matter how angry she became, his woman would always look innocent to him. Such a sweet face contorted with lines of rage was all kinds of funny.
“The world is going to see our wedding photos. Not only my family and friends. Not just your crazy band members. The entire human race will be judging us.”
“So? Who gives a shit?”
Her eyes widened. “Mitchell!”
“What, honey?”
Her mouth gaped and this time he couldn’t hold in the grin that took over his face. She was too damn cute, and his dick had taken notice. “As long as you and I are happy, who cares about anyone else?” he asked, stepping forward, bringing them toe to toe.
She stared up at him, releasing a sigh as the harshness faded from he
r features. “Mason has one eyebrow.”
A laugh burst from him and slowly a smile lifted her lips. “It isn’t funny, Mitchell.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “It really is.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her into his body. “You should’ve seen his face when he found out the beautician had waxed it off. It was epic.”
“Well, I hope it was worth it.” She pushed at his shoulders, and he held tight, not letting her leave. “Because you’re going to look like a complete jackass standing at the front of the church with his lopsided face.”
Mitch shrugged. “They’ll make me look better.”
She pushed again. “No, they won’t.” She wiggled in his arms, grunting in frustration.
“Where are you trying to go in such a hurry?”
“I’m tired and grumpy.” As if he hadn’t noticed. “I want to have a shower and go to bed.”
“I’ve got something to relieve your anger,” he ground his pelvis against hers, enjoying the way his balls tightened with the friction.
She stopped struggling and glared. “Don’t even go there.” She gave another violent push and with reluctance, he let her go.
She wanted to get laid as much as he did. He could see it in the way her gaze stalked him from the corner of her eyes, and the slow way she sauntered to the end of the bed, just out of reach, to seductively pull the straps of her dress down.
“Don’t taunt me, woman.”
She glanced over her shoulder—her eyebrows raised in defiance—and continued to let the dress fall into a puddle of material at her feet.
“Keep going. You’ll soon find yourself flat on your back with my cock buried deep inside you.”
“I said I wasn’t in the mood.” She focused on the shiny black leather of her boots, lifting one foot to the mattress and gradually lowering the zipper.
Wasn’t in the mood, my ass. Mitch strolled around the bed, and moved in behind her, letting the hardness pressing against his zipper nudge her butt. She stiffened, one boot covered foot still poised on the mattress.
