“Archer,” Quinn says, squeezing my hands and smiling from ear to ear, “I promise to be your partner in all things. I promise to love you and carry your love in my heart. I will always be honest with you and forgiving. I promise to try to be on time—”

I grunt.

“Stratton!” Quinn scolds.

“What?”

“God help me,” she mutters. “Okay, where was I…I promise faithfulness and patience.”

I hold back a chuckle, and her face softens with love.

“But most of all,” she continues, gazing into my eyes, “I will try in every way to be worthy of your love.”

I stare lovingly at her for a moment before the officiant prompts me. I take a deep breath and start my vows.

“Quinn, I promise to nurture your dreams, to be your greatest fan and toughest adversary…”

She raises her eyebrows at that.

“…to be faithful and supportive, and to always make our family’s love and happiness my priority. I promise to be your comrade in adventure and accomplice in mischief—”

Quinn giggles and tilts her head toward the crowd around us.

I know what she means. I can’t believe the Musée d’Orsay has let us get this far. I was sure we’d be kicked out the moment we found the creepiest Manet and got the ceremony started, but apparently, French museums are more forgiving than American. That, and they’re total romantics. The moment the officiant said (in thickly accented English) “we are gathered here today,” a crowd packed the gallery. In fact, now that I think about it, maybe that’s why a guard hasn’t interrupted us. They can’t get through.

Quinn glances back at me and meets my giddy gaze. I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life, and that’s not just the adrenaline talking. Quinn and I eloped to Paris after all the celebratory balls and parties for my father. He won the mayor seat by a landslide—as I knew he would. We’ll be back from our honeymoon in time to see him take office. I’m in no hurry now that I’ve brought on a business partner. It wasn’t as bad as I had expected, and it gave me more time with Quinn, which I wouldn’t trade for the world.

After our engagement party, the press (and my mother) got the Genesis Arts Center back on the map. Quinn joined their staff as Vice President of Development and brought Todd and Max with her. They raised more money in one week than GAC had seen in months. It was a hard decision for Quinn to turn down the promotion at The Met, but she found helping kids succeed in life and capture their dreams to be much more fulfilling. I couldn’t be more proud of her.

I turn my eyes back to the goddess standing in front of me and finish my vows. “East, you are my love and my life, today and always.”

“Please prezent zee rings,” our officiant says.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a solid platinum band; the one Quinn had picked out days before. Quinn reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a matching band for me.

The officiant turns to Quinn. “Do you, Quinn East, take Archer Stratton to be your lawful huzband?”

Quinn grins at me. “I do.” I slip on her ring, and a huge aww erupts around us as the crowd sighs in unison. I forgot they were even there.

“And do you, Archer Stratton, take Quinn East to be your lawful wife?”

I stare at her for a moment, drinking in the woman I’m lucky enough to marry. “I do,” I answer.

“Then you may now kizz zee bride!” A cheer rises up from the crowd as I take Quinn into my ams and kiss her, long and hard.

Maybe a little too long, because I hear “Allez-vous! Make way!” over the clapping and know we’re about to get busted. It was nice of them to wait until we were officially married.

“We better scram,” I whisper in Quinn’s ear, nodding my head toward the two security guards pushing through the crowd. Quinn nods, and I take her hand.

We beeline for the next gallery, narrowly missing one of the guards as we scramble through well-wishers. We pass through that room, turn a corner, and stop to catch our breath.

“Do you think we lost them?” Quinn says, doubling over with laughter.

I nod. “I think s—”

“You there,” a security guard cries, rounding the corner, “halt!”

“That’s a negative.” I grab Quinn and pull her after me. We laugh as we fly through the great domed hall, weaving in and out of tour groups and families as we race for the exit. In seconds, we’re through the doors and on the pavement.

But we don’t stop. We keep running, trying to keep up with our racing hearts, as we make for the Luxembourg Gardens.

When we get there, I pull Quinn into my arms and kiss her. This time, I take my time. I want to remember this first, real kiss with my new wife. I want to remember it forever, because it’s the happiest day of my life.

“I love you Quinn Rosemary Stratton,” I say.

She gasps as I pick her up and twirl her around. “Archer!”

“I won’t stop until you say it,” I cry out, twirling her around and around.

Her protests dissolve into laughter. “I love you too, you crazy man!”

I stop and press her to me. “You know you drive me crazy.”

She giggles. “I know…because you do that to me.”

I never thought in a million years I could be this content, this fulfilled. But as I stare down at my new wife, I know I just got lucky. That on a gray night in June, the love of my life would bump into me, insult me, and wiggle her way into my hardened heart.

My thoughts drift back to our engagement party, the first authentic step in our relationship. We cherished that secret because we knew it was the beginning of something great, something pure. We may have begun as a fake couple, forged from the pressures surrounding us, but we formed an unbreakable bond in the end.

Words escape me as I gaze down at my new partner in life. I might not be able to tell her how much I love her, but I can show her—

I bring my lips to hers and hold us there, hidden away in a long, ardent kiss.

—and I will. Forever and always.