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I flash the phone at my mother, and she grabs onto it and stares. “Oh, Spencer,” she says softly. “And Grace. What a gorgeous bride. A beautiful couple.” She sniffles a little and wipes her eyes, and I toss an arm around her shoulder and pull her in for a side hug.
Lincoln chuckles and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “The first of many tears she’ll shed today, believe me.”
“I’m just sad I missed it,” she moans.
“It’s not like it was real,” Asher pipes in, and I’m not sure why his words poke at me.
He’s right. It was never supposed to be real.
Yet as I spot the look of pain in Grace’s eyes that matches the one pressing on my chest…I think it’s becoming real faster than either of us ever imagined it might.
I have the strangest urge to do anything I can to wipe that look off her face.
I don’t dare make a move—not in here. Not in front of Asher and Lincoln and everyone who’s watching my every move.
But that doesn’t mean I won’t make my move later tonight.
We chill in the office a while before Grayson joins us, and he’s his usual outgoing and gregarious self.
“The Nash family is looking good,” he announces from the doorway, and we all turn toward him. “Ready for photos out by the altar?”
We head outside for family photos, and Grayson takes photos with Mom and Dad first. Despite the rough way their marriage ended, they’re civil enough with each other that they can be in the same room to celebrate this joyous occasion.
The brothers are called up to the altar, and I squeeze Grace’s hand as I leave her behind with Jolene to smile for the camera.
I spot her eyes on me.
I spot something in those eyes that I’m not sure was there before—or maybe it was, and I just chose not to see it.
I see it now, though, and there’s nothing I want more than to act on it.
I don’t think it’s just me feeling these new things.
Is it scary? Yes.
But might it be worth it anyway?
I think it might be.
It almost feels like the last four days have been leading us here, like they’ve been foreplay for the main event.
As her eyes heat when they meet mine, my cock responds.
I want her.
Holy shit, I want my wife.
The feeling is fierce as it rolls over me. I want her now. I want her any way I can get her. I want to jump off this altar and carry her to one of the guest rooms where I can kiss her the way she deserves to be kissed.
I want to strip her down to nothing and taste every inch of her body.
I want to drive into her as I watch her give into the pleasure.
I want all of her.
“The brothers’ wives may join their husbands,” the photographer says, interrupting my thoughts.
Jesus.
