Page 323 of Romeo

“I know that too.”

His gaze came back to mine, and this time the warning didn’t need profanity around it. “Then deserve it.”

That landed deeper than any threat about removing body parts ever could.

I nodded once. “Every day.”

Something shifted between us after that. Not acceptance exactly. I wasn’t expecting miracles. But when Josie called his name from across the room, Georgie didn’t leave with another threat.

He only pointed at me once.

I raised my beer.

Then he went back to his woman.

I caught Fiona looking at me when I turned toward the dance floor again.

Her hair had started escaping whatever Devlyn and the mothers had done to it earlier, and her cheeks were flushed from dancing. The dress Mama brought her looked less like wedding clothes now and more like something Fiona had lived in for hours, which somehow made her more beautiful than she had been standing in front of Father Benoit.

My wife.

The thought still made something inside me grin like an idiot.

She crooked one finger at me.

I set my beer down and went.

“What?” I asked when I reached her.

“You’ve been standing over there watching me.”

“Wasn’t exactly hidin’.”

“For a long time.”

“Got a pretty wife. Might as well enjoy the view.”

The blush came fast.

Married or not, I was going to spend the rest of my life seeing how easily I could put that color in her cheeks.

Her arms came around my neck as mine settled at her waist. Whatever song was playing didn’t match the slow way we moved, but nobody seemed to care. Kids were still dancing beside us, adults were talking over the music, and somewhere behind the bar Gator was loudly accusing his mother of moving alcohol he had specifically told her not to touch.

Fiona rested her cheek against my chest.

“You okay?” she asked.

I smiled into her hair.

This woman.

She had lived through hell yesterday, ridden through the night, told me the secret she’d been carrying for months, gotten married, survived both our families descending on us, and still found room to worry about me.

“Best fuckin’ day of my life.”

She leaned back enough to look up at me. “Yesterday was terrible.”

“Yesterday was the second best.” She scrunched her eyebrows, and she was so fucking cute it made my chest ache. “Yesterday you chose me.”