Page 29 of Big, Burly Bodyguard

I reach my hand out to my brother’s wife. “Welcome to the family.” Then I look over to him. “Congrats on your nuptials,” I say evenly.

He looks at me. “You’re serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.” I glance down at Evie’s gorgeous face, looking up at me. “It wasn’t intentional; falling in love with her was the most natural thing in the world. So if you’ll excuse us, I’ve got a princess to marry.”

Evie’s breath catches. “Truly?”

“It’s how today was going to end, regardless of Mike’s wedding. You belong to me.”

The smile she gives me is so brilliant I’m certain it shines brighter than the Vegas Strip lights.

“I wanted it to be you,” she says.

And for the first time since this all began, the future doesn’t feel like something being decided for us.

It feels like something we’re choosing.

I hear my brother murmur to the woman he married something about how they’d figure things out later. Then they follow me and Evie inside the chapel.

After I pay for a package that includes a silly little veil for my bride, we walk down the short aisle together. The clap-clap of her flip-flops marks the cadence of our steps, and it makes me smile.

“Now I wish I had changed,” she says quietly. “I didn’t much care what kind of bride I was when I thought I had to marry someone else. But marrying you,” she swallows. “I wish I looked a bit fancier.”

Evie stands across from me, her strawberry blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Those impossibly blue eyes of hers are wide and locked on me.

“I suppose I should have asked you before I declared to my brother that I was marrying you.”

She gives me a mischievous grin. “That was very caveman of you, staking your claim like that.”

“Will you marry me, Evie? Be my wife and have a real marriage with all the physical benefits?”

That makes her giggle. “Yes, please.”

The officiant clears his throat, reminding us it’s his turn to talk and we need to be quiet now. Then he says something about love and commitment.

I grab my bride’s hands, and her fingers tighten on mine.

“Mitchell,” the officiant says. “Do you and your bride want traditional vows or to provide your own?

I glance at Evie. “Our own?”

She nods.

“Our own, please.”

This feels bigger than anything I’ve ever done. I glance over at my brother. “Hey, I’m really glad you’re here for this.”

He gives me a smile and nods.

Then I focus back on my bride. “Evie,” I say, my voice a little rough. “I didn’t expect you. I didn’t plan for you. And I definitely didn’t think I’d be standing here today.”

A small smile curves her mouth.

“But from the moment you stepped into my life, you made everything brighter. As if I’d been living in a monochromatic world before you, and now everything is in technicolor. You reminded me that life is full of joy if you take the time to look. Like ridiculous flip-flops and motel hair dye. You are the best time I’ve ever had, and I can’t wait to see what other adventures we can go on.”

Her breath hitches.

“I promise to stand with you,” I continue. “Not in front of you. Not behind you. Beside you. I promise to listen when you speak, to fight for you when you need it, and to never forget that loving you is something I get to do—not something I’m obligated to.”