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“I didn’t invite your family. I let your father know, asked for his blessing, but I didn’t invite them. There’s still too much unresolved, and this…I wanted this for us.” He worried the ring in his fingers as he spoke. “Waiting to make you mine, for you to have my name, is killing me, Jenna.”
Her eyes flashed. “Then make me yours, Connor. Now.”
Every piece of the puzzle that was his life fell into place. Laughing, he surged to his feet, reaching down to lift her up. He kissed her soundly, plundering her mouth for the last time before she officially became Mrs. Jenna O’Malley. “You’re sure?”
“Why would I say no to the one person I only ever want to say yes to?”
*
She’d never imagined she’d get married on a spring day in the yard of a house she’d come to love. Binding herself to the man she cherished above all others while wearing cream pants with grass stains on the knees hadn’t been part of the dream either, but when she thought of his proposal—Connor’s beautifully remastered proposal—she didn’t care about grass stains or white dresses or stained glass windows.
This was right, just how she wanted it to be. And the day…
Three years ago on this date, she’d been torn from a privileged existence. Abducted by a sadistic psychopath, and her entire understanding of the world altered irrevocably. Beaten, tortured, trained to be become nothing more than a number with no voice, no opinion, no hope of survival.
She had survived against all odds, twice.
Three years. So much turmoil, so much change, in that period of time. She’d grown as a person, as a woman. Would continue to grow, toflourish, with Connor by her side. Wasn’t that amazing? To have a man like Connor, her white knight, her fierce warrior, standing beside her for the rest of their lives?
Jenna looked down at herself. Pictured every scar, every disfiguring mark left in her flesh by a madman. Each one carried a separate pain memory, so clear she remembered them all individually. Sometimes she cried when nobody could hear her, mourning the devastation of her hands. They would never be the same, even if she worked at the physical therapy every day.
Connor saw those scars, knew those wounds intimately, and couldn’t care less. He tended to her hands when they were so distended the pain blinded her. He didn’t shy away from her touch or give her hard looks of disgust when her unattractive fingers stroked his face.
Marrying a man who didn’t dismiss her flaws but simply accepted them as part of her was the unattainable dream. Becoming a unit with a man who never treated her like a cripple let her feel like an honest-to-God normal woman.
If he asked her to walk to the moon and bring back blue cheese, Jenna could never say no. She would do anything he asked, knowing he would do the same for her.
“I…don’t we need a priest?” she asked stupidly, coming back to herself as her thoughts continued to parade around her mind.
“Everything’s been taken care of,” Zeke informed her. “Connor’s seen to everything. You have a marriage license, the blood test has been waived, and I’ve been drafted as your officiant. Witnesses are present, and the best man should have the groom’s rings.”
Cain’s grin resembled the Cheshire cat’s trademark smile. “Congratulations, sunshine.”
“Are we ready?” Zeke asked.
Connor held out his hand in silent question; Jenna slipped hers into it. “I think I’ve been ready for years. I just had to find my girl.”
“Awwwww.”
Jenna found Sarah standing next to her mountain of a husband, and the joy on her friend’s face mirrored what she felt inside. If she’d had any doubts about taking this next step, Sarah’s infectious happiness would have scrubbed them off the board.
“Okay then, just remember I’m not an actual priest and this is my first ceremony.” Zeke winked at Jenna. “Friends, we gather here today to celebrate the union of two special people. Connor Jameson O’Malley and Penelope Violet Abernathy.”
Jenna winced. She hated that name but as she hadn’t had chance to legally change her name to Jenna, she was stuck with it for now. But not for much longer. Once she took Connor’s surname, she would take the plunge and make sure her full name reflected the woman she was.
“Connor, do you take this woman to be your wife?”
“I do.” Connor kissed her temple. “I absolutely do.”
“Jenna, do you take Connor to be your husband?”
“I do.” She closed her eyes and sighed contentedly as a wave of security washed over her. “I absolutely do.”
“Well then, by the powers vested in me by the state of Montana, I now pronounce you man and wife. It’s been a short and sweet ceremony, so you can now kiss the bride.”
“Zeke, you were supposed to let them say vows,” Sarah pointed out.
“Honey, if we let Connor say vows, he’ll wax poetic until dawn.”
