Page 164 of Seale the Deal

That was one time, she defends herself.

Hey, these are my vows.

She pouts but lets me continue. I promise to give you a place where you never have to question whether you’re wanted. Fuck. My throat tightens, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to finish. Because you’re always wanted by me. And whatever comes next, you won’t have to face it alone. I love you, Wrenley St. James.

I pull her hands up and kiss her knuckles.

Damn, Ruger. I turn my head to see Walter wiping a tear. He clears his throat. Wrenley?

Right. She looks up, blinking back tears, then brings her eyes back to mine. I promise to let you continue to serve me mystery hunted meat, even though I kind of miss chicken.

I smile wider.

I promise to one day let you teach me plumbing and any other subtrade you want. She swallows, and fresh tears fill her eyes. But most of all, I promise to never take for granted the way you never made me choose you.

Every trace of humour leaves me.

You gave me the space to decide if this is the life I really wanted, and I promise that I will always give you the same freedom to chase whatever makes you happy. Her voice breaks. But know that from this day forward, I will choose you every day because you are the one once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I would never forgive myself for not taking.

For a moment, I forget there are people around us. My eyes burn, and I blink hard, but it does fuck all to stop the tears.

I love you, I whisper.

Her smile trembles. I love you too.

Walter clears his throat beside us. Well, I was going to say something profound here, but you two have made that incredibly difficult.

Laughter ripples through the room.

Walter continues with the ceremony, guiding us through the exchange of rings, a couple of cheap silver bands we found in Anchorage. My hands are steady when I slide hers on her finger, but the right of it there sends a swell of pride through my chest.

Walter smiles. Ruger, you may kiss your wife.

My wife.

Fuck. I don’t need to be told twice.

I lift my hand to Wrenley’s cheek, brushing away some of her tears with my thumbs. It’s a fruitless task because for every tear I wipe away, two more seem to appear.

Then I kiss her.

Her hands grip the front of my jacket as I pull her closer, my other arm circling around her waist. Wrenley rises on her toes and presses closer, forcing the kiss to deepen.

Applause erupts around us. Someone whistles while Walter lets out a cheer loud enough to carry all the way to Anchorage.

I smile against Wrenley’s lips, then kiss my wife again as everyone we love claps around us.

The ceremony was short and sweet. Perfect, really. But this reception? It’s dragging. The clock says it’s only been a couple of hours, but it feels like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to get my wife alone.

My wife.

I will never, as long as I breathe, get tired of calling her that. Of the certainty between us. Of knowing she chose me.

Across the room, Wrenley is laughing with Remi and Audrey, her head tipped back, curls bouncing. The sight nearly undoes me. There she is, fitting in so effortlessly it feels like she was always meant to be here.

I make my way through the crowd, not caring if I look like a man on a mission because I am. When I slip up behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and lower my mouth to her ear, giving her a playful nibble.

Ew. Remi scrunches her face in mock disgust.