I dropped to my knees in front of her and cupped her damp face. “There is nothing to forgive. All that matters is that we’re together again. I just need you to understand that every minute I don’t have my eyes on you is a minute I can’t take a deep enough breath. I know I’m already possessive and a little controlling. This need to protect you at all costs has only intensified now that I have you back. I know how independent you are. It’s one of the million things I love so much about you.” I kissed each tear away. “But when I lost you, I lost control. I need it back, baby. Please, just bear with me for a little while until this eases.”

She released a shuddery breath. “O-okay.” She gave in without further argument on the subject, and I actually began to relax.

“But what about this whole getting married today nonsense?” She leaned back enough to frown at me. Even on my knees, she was so small that we were at eye level, and I felt as if I were looking straight into her soul. Fuck, she had me so tangled up that all I wanted to do was sit and look at her for hours. “You can’t be serious—”

My kiss stopped the flow of words, unable to hear her say she wouldn’t marry me again. When I lifted my head, I pressed my thumb to her swollen lips, keeping her from speaking. “I am very serious. You are going to be my wife before the end of the night. Don’t argue with me, Nova.”

She argued with me anyway. “It’s not what you want. I know it isn’t. You’ve told me before that you wanted a real wedding. That’s why you wouldn’t even listen when I suggested eloping.”

“I said I wanted the people we love the most with us. With your dad walking you down the aisle and our moms sobbing as we said our vows,” I reminded her. “The location and size of the ceremony had nothing to do with it. My thoughts were of the memories we would make with our families.”

“Well, what about a dress?” she said, her bottom lip pouting out. “You said you wanted me to have a wedding dress, and I don’t have one yet. I don’t even have an engagement ring. Plus, you said you would ask me, and you haven’t asked once. Just started demanding.”

“Nova,” I growled, trying—and mostly failing—to ignore that damn quivering, protruding lip. “Wear whatever dress you like. Wear jeans and a T-shirt. I don’t care. But we are getting married this evening.”

52

Nova

The sun was just starting to set on the horizon when I stepped up beside Dad. He gave me a beaming smile, and I couldn’t help noticing the differences in him in the short time he’d been in Colombia with us. The day before, when I first saw him, he’d looked as if he’d aged twenty years since my graduation.