CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
COLTON
In all the years I’d played dragon slayer with her, in all those stolen moments when I’d pretended to be injured as I threw myself down onto the ground and my wooden sword clattered down the stairs—I’d always secretly wondered what it would be like to be kissed by the fair maiden.
To be rescued by her.
It’s funny: as a little boy I’d always had it in my mind that my job—my responsibility—was to run toward danger, show I was tough enough to withstand it, and then earn my reward.
But now, as I watched Milo emerge from the house and start walking toward me with her father, everything became so ridiculously clear that I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit and then smile at my bride.
Just because we’d stopped playing together when we were kids, didn’t mean I gave up my job of protecting her, of fighting danger.
There was the time her date abandoned her at her first dance and I stayed with her the entire night.
The moment she accidently crashed the car and I helped her fix everything before her parents found out.
The summer she almost drowned and I gave her mouth-to-mouth—only to find out later—when I was done freaking out—that I loved the feel of her lips against mine.
All her life—I’d been there. Sure, I’d hung up my sword and cape. She’d put her princess hat away.
But our relationship had never changed. The dynamics of who we were as friends had slowly been molded into what we would become as a couple.
A partnership where I imagined I was rescuing her—when in the end, she rescued me.
Just by smiling.
By breathing.
By trusting me.
By kissing me back.
She was mine as much as I was hers.
The music faded as Milo stopped in front of me, tears blurring her eyes, making them look that much more beautiful.
“You did this?” she whispered.
I nodded and took her hands. “I had help.”
“But—” She stepped into my arms and leaned up to whisper in my ear, the fabric of her dress sliding against my suit. “Are you sure?”
Chuckling, I pulled back and tilted her chin up, the way I’d done her whole life when I was about to give her a very important speech where she had to listen carefully.
“You’re brother’s face is covered in ant bites, Reid nearly fell out of a tree, Max was going to drug Grandma, and we finally did have to slip something into her drink to sedate her. I wouldn’t go through all of those things, if I wasn’t sure I wanted to be attached to this family for the rest of my life—if I wasn’t sure I wanted to be your husband for an eternity.”
Her sharp intake of breath nearly brought me to my knees as the tears, once held in, poured down her face.
With a squeal, both of her arms flew around my neck. “You.”
“Me what?” I was too happy to care that everyone was watching us—gaping like idiots.
“It’s always been you.”
I set her on her feet. “Does that mean you can take down those posters in your old bedroom and replace them with pictures of me?”
“Silly.” She rolled her eyes. “Your name is written in invisible ink behind the posters. I had to do something just in case you came into my room and discovered my secret.”
“Hmph, secret.” Max coughed next to Colt.
As if realizing she had an audience, Milo quickly tucked her arm within mine and cleared her throat. “We’re ready.”
“Dearly beloved—”
“I have a few words.” Grandma stood.
Jason quickly tugged her down and gave me a thumbs-up. Funny, because his thumb was the only working body part currently in his possession.
“Who’s that?” Milo whispered.
“Your grandma.”
“No, the guy next to her—holy hell!”
The pastor cleared his throat.
“Is that Jason?”
“Dearly beloved!” the pastor said, a bit louder this time.
“Should he go to the hospital?” Milo whispered.
“After.” I grinned and kissed her hand. “We’ll take him after.”
“If he lives that long,” Max said helpfully.
I shot him daggers. He merely shrugged and motioned to the pastor. “Do go on, I believe you were saying, ‘Dearly beloved.’ ”
The pastor smiled tightly. “Dearly—”
“You sick son of a bitch!” a woman wailed from behind us.
“Oh, dear Lord,” I snapped.
The pastor blanched.
I turned slowly as Jayne made her way up the aisle.
“Jason, you—”
She paused and looked at me, then Milo, then around the audience. Her confused eyes suddenly turning embarrassed as she realized she wasn’t interrupting her ex-fiancé’s wedding, but mine.
“Jayne!” Max shouted. “There you are. We’ve been so worried!”
Uh-oh.
“You have?” she asked in a doubtful voice.
“Yes!” Why was Max yelling? “When you didn’t come back after your walk we thought you were done for! But here you are!” He put his hand over his heart. “I was afraid I’d scared you with my forthrightness . . .”
“Does he even know what that word means?” Milo whispered.
“. . . in asking for your hand in matrimony, dear, lovely woman of my heart!”
I snorted. “It’s like a bad play.”
“My hand?”
Max walked slowly down the aisle. “Your lovely, lovely, small, feminine hands. The same hands that caressed me last evening when I was distraught.”
“Is it me or did he suddenly develop a British accent?” Milo whispered.
“Sounds Australian.”
“No,” Milo hissed. “He sounds drunk.”
“You love my hands?” Jayne beamed.
“Both of them.” Max nodded. “All ten fingers. All ten toes.”
Milo nudged me. “Where did the toes come from?”
Max grabbed Jayne and sighed as he jerked her head toward his chest and started patting it. “Even your elbows.”
Jayne sniffled. “I’ve always been insecure about those.”
“Shh!” Max pressed his finger to her lips and shouted, “Those elbows made me feel for the first time! They made me love!” Raising his voice even louder, he addressed the crowd. “I’d marry her for those damn elbows! I’d marry her and I’d give her children! And I’d—”
“Max!” I hissed.
“Right.” He turned to Jayne. “Shall we sit while they perform the ceremony?”
She gave a watery nod and put her head on Max’s shoulder as they sat toward the back. I didn’t miss, however, the little bus motion Max made with his hands before he made a cutting motion across his neck and then stuck his tongue out as if he’d died.
Yeah, he’d taken another one for the team.
“Dearly beloved!” The pastor was nearly screaming now. He paused, sighed, then continued, “We are gathered here . . .”