“Are you ready?”

I stared hard at the closed bathroom door. We were back in the hotel suite we’d stayed in that first weekend last winter for our “babymoon”—and another surprise event she had not been apprised of yet. Timing was of the essence there. Soon, Sage wouldn’t be able to fly until the baby was born in October.

Our little pumpkin. Complete with newborn Halloween costume I’d insisted on buying.

“Yoo-hoo, Hamilton? You out there?”

I was so ready, I’d probably tear a hole in my boxers if she kept me waiting much longer. “Get in here.”

The door opened, and Sage stepped out in the sleep set she wanted to model for me.

It wasn’t as risqué as a few of the pieces she’d purchased early on in her pregnancy, but the tiny boy shorts that rode high on her thighs and silky, lace-strapped top made me fist my hand in the sheets just the same. Her breasts were so much larger than they’d been, and the perfection of her round belly was highlighted by the fringe of lace draped over the top of her stomach. Her miles of wavy blond hair tumbled over her shoulders and flirted with the tops of her breasts, dipping down to curve seductively near her nipples.

Bow-festooned nipples. Bows were a theme with us, from the necklace she never took off to her engagement ring to the pretty little ties I sometimes wrapped around her wrists. Occasionally ankles too.

“Dear God,” I said, voice low.

“Like it?” She came around to my side of the bed, and her skin shimmered under the lights with glittery fairy dust or some such. As she got closer, I saw that she’d written words with the glittery stuff on the fullest part of her belly.

Daddy’s girl.

Yes, we were having a girl, and yes, I may or may not have purchased every available piece of baby clothing with that phrase in Crescent Cove. Recently, I’d been online shopping to boot.

By the time our daughter actually arrived, there probably wouldn’t be any room left for her in the nursery due to all the clothes, toys, and baby paraphernalia, mostly bought by me.

My shame level hovered right around zero. I’d promised to spoil them every day of my life, and I was off to a rip-roaring start.

I swallowed deeply and grabbed Sage’s hand to tug her close. “I hope that glitter is edible, because I’m going to kiss every inch of you.”

“Your luck is in, Mr. Hamilton. So is mine, I hope.” She pulled something out of her back pocket that looked suspiciously like a long, silky length of thin, lightly padded fabric. “Since this babymoon thing is about one last hurrah pre-infant, I was thinking maybe you could indulge me one of my favorite fantasies.”

I pressed my face against the satiny fabric between her breasts and inhaled her summery, ocean water scent. The rich cocoa butter lotion she used now to keep her skin supple layered over the other scents, reminding me of the beach. “If this is about dirty talk, I’m standing firm.”

She laughed and scooped her hand through my hair. “The kid is not listening to you. I swear.”

“Do you have proof of what she can hear? Can you guarantee she won’t end up in therapy in ten years because of what filth I said to you while in the throes?”

“Yeah, think about what you just said. While in the throes. It’s fine for her if we have sex, but hearing sex words? God forbid.”

“Entirely different. She probably isn’t aware of what’s occurring there.”

“Yet she knows what you’re referring to when you talk about my pussy?”

I arched a brow. “You don’t even blush when you say that anymore.”

She jerked a shoulder. “Once you’ve had doctors and nurses all up in your hoohaa like it’s an amusement park attraction, the word pussy does not phase you. Also, if I can say it, why not you?”

“Saying it conversationally is not the same. Uttering it mid-thrust seems—”

“Hot? Arousing? Pleasurable to the pregnant lady who probably won’t be riding this particular stick much longer without help of that sex chair you refuse to buy?”

“We’re remodeling the house.”

Our house, though Sage hadn’t been eager to give up her loft. For now, we were keeping it as a possible studio. Once the bed-and-breakfast was fully operational again, we were considering using it for a staging piece for real estate consultations since she had training in that area and it was the perfect offshoot for Hamilton Realty. Basically, check out this Sage Evans—soon to be Hamilton, I hoped—staged loft, and hire her to stage your own property to prepare it for an open house.

The whole stay-at-home mother idea had flown out the window. She was still working at the diner too, just a few hours a week. The woman was stubborn to a fault, and I loved her more every passing day.

I was also pulling out my hair on a regular basis, but luckily, I’d been born with a lot.

“And your point is what?”

“Where exactly do you expect me to hide a sex chair?” I asked patiently. She’d come up with the idea a few weeks ago as mobility became more of an issue, and since then, she’d been like a dog wanting a bone. Much boning.

“Oh, I don’t know, how about in any of the rooms the contractors don’t go into? Or put it in the nursery. They definitely don’t go in there.”

I couldn’t hide my shock. “You would hide a sex chair in your daughter’s room?”

She snorted out a laugh. “Hamilton, you are too much. To hear you talk, I’d almost think you weren’t banging me like a snare drum on the regular. But we know that’s not true, don’t we?” She trailed the end of the tie along my cheek. “You should let me tie you up.”

“Hell of a segue, princess.” Also, we did not have much time for this. We had a very important appointment. “We have an itinerary, you know.”

“Mmm-hmm, and wouldn’t the rest of the day go so much better with an orgasm to start?”

When she put it that way, I had to agree. Especially considering what the rest of the day contained. I’d been anticipating this day for a while, but not necessarily the how, more the why.

Love could be a perilous, potentially embarrassing business. Yet I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I definitely wouldn’t trade seeing my very pregnant fiancée crawling around the bed to undress me, piece by piece. She took her time, drawing off my tie and looping it over her own head to make me lose my mind while she unbuttoned each button of my shirt, catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth. She tugged it off and carefully hung it off the bedpost, knowing my preferences there. Hell, she knew all of them, right down to how she licked my nipples and pressed eager little kisses over my tattoos as she removed my belt, pants, and boxers, draping them over my shirt.

“Want to see you in that shirt and tie sometime,” I said hoarsely.

“Hmm, like this?” It took her a couple of moments, but she shimmied out of her pajama top and the little shorts, swapping them for my white button-down and my tie. She only did the top two buttons of the shirt so it draped down over her belly, fully exposing it when she moved just right. Her breasts pressed seductively against the material, the dusky pink areolas slightly visible through the fabric.

“Christ, you’re a vision.”

“I smell like you now.” She lifted her arm and sniffed at the cuffs. Her love of my cologne was legendary, musk or not. “Think you can imprint me with more of your smell too? Or is that,” she eyed my now fully engorged cock, licking her lips, “too filthy?”

Rather than reply, I hauled her closer and latched my mouth on her nipple through the material, tonguing the sensitive peak until she cried out softly and shifted on top of me, her wet pussy sliding seductively against my cock.

“Don’t stop.”

“Never.”

“Raise your arms.” She tucked her tongue at the corner of her mouth while I continued to minister to her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Yes, you do. You already are. Fucking look at you.”

She laughed throatily as I gripped the headboard to make it easier for her. “Fucking look at you,” she shot back, dropping her gaze to my overeager cock already trying to force its way inside her. Just the feel of her dripping on me was enough to give my dick ideas of its own.

“I once considered myself a semi-enlightened man. But looking at you like that,” I curled my fingers into fists as she rose to wrap the tie around my wrists, “I’m half tempted to keep you permanently pregnant and wearing my clothes.”

“Big talk from a man who’s tied up and at my mercy.” She sat back, looking pretty damn pleased with herself. “Besides, we only have two spare bedrooms.”

I had to laugh despite the pressure building in my groin. No matter what, she always put me in my place.

Right by her side. Never on top or below—or if I was, not for long. And I could rest assured she would swap with me at the first opportunity.

“Always pragmatic, my princess.”

“Mmm-hmm. We’re growing a business. You’ll have to content yourself with your daughter for a while there, caveman. Once she’s out, it’s birth control central for us.” She shifted back on top of me, leaning forward so that the panels of my shirt opened and put her breasts dangerously close to my mouth. “Though I’m happy to roleplay you knocking me up anytime you want.”

“I’m more than happy with you and our daughter.” I angled closer so that I could nip the side of her breast. “But how about roleplaying my wife?”

Minus the roleplay.

She jolted, going still as my teeth and lips pleasured her breast. I nosed the material out of my way and sucked on her nipple, pulling gently as she moaned and laced her fingers in my hair. “Soon,” she said.

She had no idea how soon.

We’d discussed getting married right before the baby was born, and right after, and six months later once Sage had lost the baby weight. I thought she looked perfect right now. The leap I’d taken in setting this up might backfire spectacularly on me, and if that was the case, I’d accept responsibility.

But if it paid off, she’d be my wife before we were on the plane back home.

She shimmied down my body, leaving hot, wet kisses on my skin as she went. Her shimmy was more wobble than glide due to her belly, but I couldn’t have been more aroused. Her beauty was only enhanced by her pregnancy. She glowed, and she was full and ripe and sexy as hell. I hadn’t been kidding about wanting to keep her pregnant. Knowing she carried a life we’d made inside her turned me on in a primitive way I didn’t completely understand.

Her mouth slid over the tip of my erection, dropping down to enfold my length. She’d learned so much about pleasing me since the last time we were here. Not that she hadn’t been absolutely perfect that first night. Just thinking about her erotic innocence combined with the wet suction currently wrapped around my dick was enough to have my hips flexing as I dug my short nails futilely into my palms. I wanted to fist her hair and lightly squeeze her swollen tits while I fed her my cock one inch at a time.

But she was in charge, and I was her willing victim.

“Inside you,” I gritted as she toyed with my sac, drawing her pale pink nails around the sensitive flesh. Torturing me. “I want to fill up your pussy, not your throat. Not cover your pretty tits. Not today.”

Even with her mouth still stretched around my dick, she smiled, humming in her throat so that I raised my hips off the bed. Vixen. She’d tricked me into talking dirty despite myself.

“Is that so?” She worked her hand up and down my shaft, using her saliva to slicken her strokes. Her teeth grazed gently over the head of my cock and I hissed, shutting my eyes when she kissed the tip to soothe the sting. “Maybe if you say it again, I’ll oblige you.”

“Playing with fire, princess.”

Her lips sank down around me, her witchy green eyes meeting mine as she took my cock. She squeezed in time with her sucking and I couldn’t help twisting my wrists until the tie strained against her knot. It would be so easy to pull free and drag her where I wanted her, but I wouldn’t ruin her game.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, but she didn’t stop her torment. If anything, she drew on me harder while I craned my neck and tried to see the readout. Fuck, what time was it? We didn’t have much left at all before we had to be downstairs. But I needed her pussy, desperately. There was no way I could make it through being married by fake Elvis with a hard-on. A man could only suffer through so many indignities in one day.

“Get on top of me,” I commanded, low and harsh. “Use that pussy for what it’s meant for.”

It was a little over the top, and I half expected her to slap me, not sit on me, but her eyes popped wide and she released me at once. Her thumb slicked over the head of my dick before she straddled me, rubbing her soaked slit up and down.

So I should go the extra mile when it came to being filthy. Message received.

Especially since I had to get this show on the road. Not only for the benefit of my throbbing cock, but because that phone call had been Seth’s ringtone. He wasn’t calling for a chat.

Time was nigh for us to get ourselves wedded, so I’d have to hope my daughter didn’t have a predilection toward dirty words and/or had a charitable heart when it came to forgiveness.

“Ride that dick, baby. Spread your wetness all over it. Make me feel how much you want this.”

Sage didn’t seem to need my encouragement. Her eyes were slitted, her happily abused lips parting with her rapid breaths. She gripped my erection and poised over it, circling it over her clit until I was almost certain I could feel it pulsing against me. I groaned, tilting my hips, urging her to sink down and finish us both off.

“More,” she whispered, rocking back and forth, coating me in her scent and her desire.

“Untie my hands and I’ll shove you down on that dick so hard you won’t be able to scream.”

Her lashes fluttered and she ran her free hand over her belly, slipping it upward to pinch her nipple. My length bobbed in her hand and she chuckled, angling her head so a blond curl curved seductively over her cheek.

“Maybe you should beg for this pussy first.”

Oh Christ. I had created a monster. A hot-as-Hades one who I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life with.

“Give it to me. You know I want it. I wish I could taste you at the same time you’re coming all over my cock. I can feel your juices running down my balls. Fuck, Sage, if you don’t let me inside that sweet, tight pussy, I’ll—”

She broke, taking me inside and sliding down to the hilt with a little cry of victory. I shut my eyes, groaning at the sheer decadence of her hot walls closing around me, losing myself to the mindlessness of fucking her. It was instinctive. No thought required. My hips snapped up and I drove in deeper and deeper still. Couldn’t get enough. She took every inch, her pussy rippling around me as if she were trying to draw the come from my body. She wasn’t going to have to wait long.

The phone buzzed again and I grunted, trying to shift my head so I could see my watch. Yeah, not going to happen.

“Faster,” I muttered, and it wasn’t just because I couldn’t see straight.

If I didn’t answer Seth’s call, he was apt to show up at the door.

“Oh God, feels so good. I want to make it last.”

“Can’t. Not today. Maybe tonight. Faster, princess, or else I’ll spank your ass when I get these ties off.”

“I like when you spank me.” Her nails scraped my lower belly and my head tipped back, my whole body pulling tight.

Time for another tact.

“Don’t hold out on me, princess. I feel how wet you are. Hear it too. Fuck, listen to that.” The sounds her body was making every time I pumped into her were damn near obscene. So freaking dirty in the best possible way. “Play with your hot little pussy for me, princess. Do it just right so you soak my dick.”

She rubbed her clit, no shame at all now. Her openness at enjoying her body only increased my need, pushing it higher and higher as I thrust into her hard and fast. Sweat dotted my brow and slipped into my hairline and I still couldn’t stop fucking her. She arched as she rode me as if she’d been born to do it. When she couldn’t keep the pace any longer without bracing herself, she planted one hand on my tensed stomach, still fingering herself with the other.

“Give it to me. Goddammit, now.”

Finally, finally, she stopped fighting it, her cries as her pussy clenched more than enough to shove me into my own climax. I shouted, turning my face into my arm, my fisted hands beating against the wall behind the bed while I emptied myself into her giving pussy. Not stopping until she had every drop.

And Jesus, the phone buzzed again.

“You’re so fucking sweet. Next time my wrists are tied, you’re going to ride my mouth. Smear that wet pussy all over it.”

She whimpered, leaning forward to kiss me hungrily. “Sure we have to leave the suite? I bet you could get me going for another round…”

It was my turn to whimper, or whatever the manly version of that sound was. I was half tempted to cancel the whole ceremony. Partly because I was not a fake Elvis fan, partly because my fiancée was hotter than any woman had a right to be.

“That’s Seth.” I sucked on her lower lip. “We’re needed somewhere else. But I’ll take an IOU for that face-riding in return for some spanking tonight.”

“Sounds like a win for me on both scores. Though I wouldn’t mind spanking you—”

“Good luck there, princess.”

She giggled. “Aw, Mr. Big Alpha doesn’t want me paddling his tushy.”

“Sage, you’re on thin ice.”

She rocked against me, reminding me exactly where my length was still happily lodged. “Doesn’t feel thin. Feels nice and thick. And look at that, getting harder by the minute.”

“Sage,” I growled.

She kept right on bouncing on me, her face already flushing again. “Your stamina is a thing to behold. It so makes up for your stern, sometimes obnoxious nature. Just think, I could have been fucking you all these years instead of rolling my eyes at your lack of a sense of humor.”

Laughing was all I could do, considering the circumstances. I had no sense of humor? Look at my life.

I was about to get married by a dude pretending to be Elvis. Assuming Sage didn’t de-ball me once she learned of my surprise.

Dammit, one of these times I’d get this romantic gesture thing right. If this wasn’t it, I was retiring from the game.

And Christ on a crutch, she was still riding my cock. And my cock liked it.

A whole fucking lot.

“You don’t need a sex chair. Me? I may need traction soon.”

She laughed as the phone buzzed again. It was as if as soon as Seth hung up, he started again. “That’s Seth? What’s going on? More violent diarrhea?” Then she frowned. “Aww, that was like deflating a balloon.”

“Diarrhea? Seriously? What are you talking about?”

“Um, nothing?” She sighed as I stared at her unmercifully. “So, remember how I said he was going to pay for our wedding?”

“Yes.” Which he wasn’t. He’d sprung for flights and a hotel room for his immediate family, and that was about it. I’d footed the bill for everyone else to travel cross-country.

“He sort of told me and Ally to hurry back to the house the day of the accident because he had violent diarrhea.”

“He did what? In the middle of a storm?”

“Yeah. He had massive guilt. In his defense, you didn’t tell him what to say.”

“No, that’s true. I should have to give my grown brother a script that doesn’t involve bodily functions.”

She leaned forward and brushed her mouth over mine. “I lo u,” she whispered, the light in her eyes defeating me as it always did.

In the end, I laid there and let her use me again for her own pleasure. As a soon-to-be husband, I felt it was my duty.

Side benefit? It made Seth lose his ever-loving mind as he kept calling again and again.

Also, I got another orgasm out of the deal. Now I could face fake Elvis. Once I could walk again, at least.

And once I could get Sage to finish her leisurely bath.

“We’ll be there soon,” I said quietly into the phone once I had a semblance of my faculties back. “Sage is getting ready.”

“You’re late. Elvis is getting pissed. I saw him rip off his wig a little while ago. Guy is stone bald under it.”

“He isn’t really Elvis, you know.” With Seth, one could never be sure. He’d believed in Santa until he was a teenager.

“I know that. As does my daughter.”

“Your daughter is far wiser than you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure the same will be said about yours. Now get your ass down here before our guests disperse.”

“They aren’t going to disperse. They traveled cross-country for this.”

God bless their souls.

“Yes, but there are many distractions. Keno. Poker. Slot machines galore. Mucho alcohol. Celine Dion. Do you think Ally and I can still get tickets while we’re here?”

“No, I heard she was sold out forever. Bye.” I clicked off on him while he was still sputtering.

I went directly to the dry-cleaning bag I’d had delivered the last time we were out and unzipped it, making sure the pale pink gown I’d ordered for Sage was inside and not some outfit befitting a showgirl.

Which reminded me of when Sage had dressed as Lola, the showgirl from the Manilow song for Halloween, and I’d made fun of her mercilessly.

Ah, the memories. I wondered if she still had that costume. I bet we could find some creative uses for it that didn’t involve trick-or-treating.

I gave her five more minutes to soak. Then I knocked on the door and stepped inside. She was standing in front of the mirror, drying her belly with the towel.

Without thinking, I dropped to my knees in front of her and pressed a kiss to her stomach, closing my eyes as the baby kicked against my cheek.

My heart kicked too, one rough, hard jolt.

“She knows her daddy’s touch,” Sage murmured, stroking my hair. Soothing me without words.

We didn’t need them.

I kissed her belly again in the same spot and fumbled for Sage’s hand, bringing it against my other cheek.

“Our entire life started in this hotel suite.”

“Nah,” she said after a moment, still running her fingers through my hair. “We started long before here. This was just the climax, so to speak.”

I didn’t laugh. “I want to marry you. Today. Not for propriety’s sake. Not for anyone’s sake but ours.” I tipped back my head and met her shocked eyes. “Every moment you’re not my wife feels wrong. As if a piece of me is missing.”

“But—” Then she stopped and shook her head. “Okay. Yes. Let’s. Where can we do it?”

I stood and gave her a quick, hard kiss, gripping her hand securely in mine. “Leave it all to me.”

* * *

I was dressed like the princess Oliver always called me.

He’d bought the dress I’d earmarked in a magazine, getting it in a pale pink that made my skin and eyes look vibrant—a minor feat this late in my pregnancy. The sweetheart neckline did wonders for my cleavage, the empire waist draped perfectly over my belly, and the soft material swished around my ankles as I walked. He’d even selected sparkly silver, chunky-heeled shoes to go with it. Regular heels would’ve been better, but neither of us wanted to take the chance of me falling. Grace was not my middle name.

It was Susie for my great-aunt, but who was keeping track?

I couldn’t believe all the trouble he’d gone to. Sure, some part of me was like, hey, you’re only getting one wedding, shouldn’t you have more agency? And um, hi, didn’t he do crap like this before?

No, and no. He chose the dress I loved, and he made my dream happen for me. He admitted he was more than a little concerned I would dump him in front of all our friends and family, but he’d done this because he wanted to be married to me now.

In front of our friends and family.

By Elvis. The guy he couldn’t stand.

Yeah, I had no complaints. As soon as he could walk without a limp, he was getting nailed again. Which was entirely for his benefit.

Ah, hell, I couldn’t lie on my wedding day.

Hi, my name is Sage, and I love sex. News at eleven.

“You’re sure I look okay?” I tugged at the side of the dress as we walked toward the Elvis chapel holding hands. So much different than the last time we’d visited it.

He kissed my knuckles. “You look magnificent.”

“I’m not fishing for compliments. I just feel very large. Not in a bad way, because baby girl needs room. But you know, when everyone is looking at me—”

He stopped us a few feet away from the entrance to Hunk O’ Burning Love. “Every single man who sees you is going to wish you were his. Every woman is going to envy your beauty.”

My throat grew tight and hot. “It’s like you’re trying to get me to marry you or something.”

He chuckled and dipped his forehead against mine. “Let’s just say I’m looking forward to the honeymoon.”

All at once, I realized how awkward this must be for him. He really hated stuff like this. Anything embarrassing or showy.

Then again, I had a tendency to be both of those things, often inadvertently. And he still loved me. I didn’t doubt that anymore. Every time he touched me, it was obvious. Just as it was clear he adored our little girl.

I was so very lucky.

“We can do this again at home. Have a nice, regular ceremony, very normal. In a church even if you want. Assuming they don’t cast me out with brimstone because I’m way pregnant.”

He laughed and gripped my hand that much harder. “Are you kidding me? I’ll skip that circus. This one suits me just fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want your wedding to be the stuff of nightmares for you. Since you’re not divorcing me ever or I will probably kill you.” He laughed, but I did not. “I’m not even joking, Hamilton. You’ll be dead as a doornail. Ally will help me bury your body. We already discussed it.”

“There’s a cheery thought. Remind me to scale back her Christmas gift this year.” He grinned. “We aren’t getting divorced. Ever. Okay?”

“Do you promise?”

Yes, I needed extra reassurance. I blamed that on pregnancy too. It would suck when I couldn’t use gestating a human as an excuse anymore.

Maybe Oliver’s idea of keeping me pregnant had a bright side. If one forgot about swelling, fatigue, morning sickness, weight gain, and hemorrhoids.

Yeah, not going there. There had been enough bathroom-related talk for one day already.

“Cross my heart. Now let’s go.” Oliver gave me a quick kiss and tugged on my hand. “Fake Elvis is waiting.”

Taking a deep breath, I nodded. And together, we walked into chaos.

Within a matter of moments, I’d been hugged and oohed and aahed over by my parents, Seth and Ally, Oliver’s father, Jean from the diner, Dare, Moose, Kelsey, and even Rob from the plane, who seemed unsurprised Oliver had knocked me up the very same weekend he’d met us. Probably because I’d crawled all over Oliver on the plane out of fear.

And smell lust. And just general lust, though that had taken at least a few hours.

Hey, a girl had her standards.

Laurie was zooming around like a kid on sugar, and baby Alexander was happily asleep where he was strapped to Ally’s chest. The only one who looked put out was fake Elvis, who was not pleased with all the delays, since they had a full slate of marriages on the docket.

On the other hand, the blue-haired receptionist seemed positively sunny. She’d taken one look at my belly and one look at Oliver and remarked that “the King doesn’t judge.”

Thank heavens for that.

Then it was time for the last few preparations. Ally offered me a pair of pearl earrings as my something borrowed, Oliver’s father presented to me the prettiest rose gold bracelet as my something new, my mom offered me Dad’s handkerchief to tuck in my bra as my something old—because c’mon, I was so going to cry—and Kelsey came through with something blue.

“I found the perfect thing!” she exclaimed, whipping out a royal-blue belt-slash-sash that proclaimed, “made in Vegas,” which she wrapped around my basketball-sized belly.

Everyone laughed at that, even Oliver.

“Look at nuts lady, coming through in the clutch,” Dare said with a smirk.

Kelsey turned a few shades of pink. “Offer a guy nuts one time and he never lets you forget it,” she whispered as she adjusted my sash.

“Probably because he wants you to play with his nuts.”

“You think? He is super-hot.”

“He is. And single.”

Oliver cleared his throat. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say another man was super-hot right before you’re about to marry me, princess.”

Seth adjusted his bowtie. “It’s okay, Sage. Everyone knows I’m the better-looking twin. The truth shall set you free.”

“Shut up and get into position,” Oliver said to Seth. “The ceremony is about to start.”

“Ah, the rudeness of a nervous husband-to-be. A flustered Oliver is the most entertaining kind of Oliver.” Seth was positively gloating. “This may be the best day ever.”

Ally elbowed him. “Um, excuse me?”

“After our wedding and the births of our babies, of course, Ally Cat.”

“Uh-huh.”

Oliver stroked a hand down my hair, settling my nerves as he always did with that single gesture. “See you in, oh, two minutes. Love you.”

I leaned up for a quick kiss. “Love you more. Also, you’re totally the hotter twin.”

“There was never any doubt.” He gave me a light shove up the red-carpeted aisle to where I was supposed to wait with my parents for the wedding march to begin.

Unconventional? Yeah, that was us. And I couldn’t have been happier.

I swallowed hard and fumbled for my mother’s and father’s hands as the telltale strains of “The Wonder of You” played in the background, our requested wedding song.

“This is it,” I mumbled to no one in particular.

My mom dashed away a tear. “You ready, sweet pea?”

Tears, who me? Nah, this was the most wonderful day of my life.

“I sure am.” I grinned at Oliver waiting for me at the other end of the aisle. “Let the shenanigans begin.”