by Sandra Owens
The rest of the church was filled with his teammates, their wives, and the rest of the K2 staff. His professor mom, whom he’d never once seen cry, wiped her eyes with a pristine white handkerchief. He shared a smile with his father over that.
Ryan O’Connor, Cody’s best man, caught his attention as he searched his pockets. At Ryan’s frown, Cody narrowed his eyes. “If you lost the ring, I’m going to take you down right here in front of God and everyone in this church,” he whispered.
“You could try, dude.” He opened his coat and stuck his hand inside the pocket. “It’s here somewhere. Well, I thought it was,” he said as he tried another pocket.
“Doc, you better be kidding if you know what’s good for you.”
Ryan grinned and held up Riley’s wedding ring. “Scared you, huh?”
“You’re not funny, man.” The pianist began to play, and as everyone stood and looked to the back, Cody elbowed Ryan.
“Oomph.” Ryan rubbed his stomach.
They grinned at each other, then Cody turned. Maria, Riley’s matron of honor, walked down the aisle and came to the front. Next was the flower girl, Regan, Dani Kincaid’s daughter. She was adorable and seemed to take her job of dropping rose petals seriously. When she reached him, she stopped in front of him and smiled prettily as she handed him her basket, and then skipped to where her mother was sitting. Cody wondered what he was supposed to do with it.
“I’ll take it,” Maria said, and he handed it to her.
And then, there she was, his heart. As Riley walked down the aisle on the arm of John Haywood, her foster father, Cody thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful. Her hair flowed down her back in a beautiful cascade of curls, and the white scoop neck, off-the-shoulder dress she wore was elegant in its simplicity.
What he liked best, though, was that she only had eyes for him, and when she smiled, his heart bounced in a crazy dance. Her foster father put her hand into Cody’s, and then took a seat next to his wife.
Later in the day, if someone had asked him about his wedding, Cody wouldn’t have been able to tell them a thing. All he knew, all he cared about, all he saw was Riley. It wasn’t until Ryan nudged him and put the ring in his hand that his awareness of his surroundings returned. After the rings were exchanged, and they were pronounced husband and wife, he was told he could kiss his bride. He gave her a chaste peck on the lips.
“You can do better than that,” she said.
He gave an adamant shake of his head. “I don’t think I can stop kissing you if I start.” He seriously meant that, and hadn’t intended to make a joke, but from the laughter of their families and friends, everyone else seemed to think it was funny.
Hand in hand, they came out of the church to birdseed being tossed at them. More than anything, he wanted to take her straight home and make love to her as her husband, but the boss was hosting a reception for them at his house. Cody figured it wouldn’t be cool to be no-shows.
“To Cody and Riley,” Kincaid said, raising a crystal flute of golden champagne.
“To Cody and Riley,” their friends echoed, the sound of clinking glasses filling the air.
“An Irish toast,” Ryan said. “Here’s to fire: not the kind that brings down shacks and shanties, but the kind that brings down slacks and panties.”
After the laughter quieted, Jamie lifted his flute filled with soda water. “May your ups and downs be done between the sheets.”
“I’m all over that one,” Cody said, grinning at his blushing bride.
Jake tapped on his glass. “I was told a toast should only last as long as the groom’s love-making . . . so thank you and good night.”
“Hey, dude, you only wish you were as manly as me,” Cody fired back.
“Don’t be making fun of my husband,” Maria said. “He tries hard. Real hard.” She giggled.
After several more naughty toasts, and the hilarity had calmed down, Cody’s father and mother stood. His dad raised his glass of champagne. “To our son and new daughter.” He smiled at Riley. “Welcome to the family, Riley. Your husband is an amazing man, one that his mother and I are very proud of, although I’m not sure he’s aware of that.” He shifted his gaze to Cody. “We may not understand why you chose the life you did, but we respect the man our baby became. We love you, son.”
Damn. Cody blinked, trying to clear away the burning in his eyes. Riley squeezed his hand, and he got her message, loud and clear. He stood and went to his parents. “Thank you for that. I love you both.” After what was his first hug with his parents that he could remember, he reached for Riley’s hand, bringing her to stand with him and her new family.
The mushy love stuff going around, though, made him uncomfortable. “How soon can I steal my bride away and prove none of you know dick about my stamina?” As he’d intended, the mood reverted to fun.
Two hours later, Cody, his teammates, and their wives were the only ones still sitting around the fire pit. They’d circled it with five lounge chairs, each wife held snug against the chest of her husband. The evening was chilly, but between the fire, the hot coffee they’d switched to, and the warmth of bodies pressed together, they were comfortable.
Kincaid raised his coffee cup. “To the ladies who dared to take us on.”
Five men lifted their cups in the air. “To the ladies,” they all said.
“When men like us who live on the edge fall in love, we fall hard,” Jake said, his gaze on his wife.
The team nodded, and Cody said, “And we fall forever.”
Riley squeezed his hand. “Hoorah.”
“Hoorah,” the other wives echoed.
Acknowledgments
The more times I write one of these acknowledgements as my writing career progresses, the more I’m amazed by how my world has expanded since the day I published my first book. I’ve made so many new friends, both readers and authors, and I’m humbled by your love and support.
To the fans of my K2 Team series, I’m crying right along with you that the time has come to say good-bye to these five heroes. I’m going to miss them! To each one of you who has taken the time to e-mail me and/or friend me on social media sites, please know that I treasure our connection, and that I love each and every one of you. Don’t be too sad, though. Another series of heroes is headed your way.
To my author friends, you all are rock stars, and I’m so proud to know you. Many of you have been there for me when I needed to solve a problem plaguing me during the creation of a story. Special thanks and love goes to my critique partners, Jenny Holiday and Miranda Liasson. I can’t imagine what I’d do without you.
This is my fifth book published by Montlake Romance, and it has been an amazing experience. Thank you Maria, Jessica, Marlene, Melody, Lauren, Scott, and . . . well, just every single one of you at Montlake Romance for being so awesome!
My family knows they’re superspecial to me, but I’ll say it here . . . Owens peeps, you are my heart and soul. I couldn’t do this without your love and support.
To my special friends, Lindsey and Felice, my Golden Heart® Lucky 13 sisters, and my Montlake Romance sisters, my life is better for knowing you.
It has become a tradition to save my agent for last because she’s the best. Courtney Miller-Callihan, we’ve come a long way since we met at RWA 2013, and I’m thankful you were at my side every step of the way. May the journey continue! xoxoxo.
About the Author
Photo © 2015 Cat Ford-Coates
A bestselling, award-winning author, Sandra Owens lives in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Her family and friends often question her sanity but have ceased being surprised by what she might be up to next. She has jumped out of a plane, ridden in an aerobatic plane while the pilot performed thrilling stunts, and flown Air Combat (two fighter planes dogfighting, pretending to shoot at each other with laser guns). She’s also ridden a Harley motorcycle for years. She regrets nothing. Sandra is a 2013 Golden Heart finalist for her contemporary romance
Crazy for Her. In addition to her contemporary romantic suspense novels, she writes Regency stories. Connect with Sandra on Facebook at www.facebook.com/SandraOwensAuthor, on Twitter @SandyOwens1, and through her website, www.sandra-owens.com.
