“Good. Though I do have a lot of rooms that need to be christened.”

“I’m pretty sure you have a big new car that hasn’t been…” She pulled him toward the passenger door, giggling.

“Hot damn, I love you, woman.”

EPILOGUE

Somehow Cash should’ve known that sporting a tux was part of the deal. Can’t have a wedding without a tux. Well, you can. But that’s not what Nicola wanted, and what she wanted today was priority number one. The tux could be considered mission critical.

He tugged at the black silk bowtie. Not his style. And standing in front of God and everyone, grinning like an asshole, it made him more than a little self-conscious.

The church doors flew open. The dramatic organ notes bounced off the cathedral ceiling, filling the room with the powerful processional they’d chosen. The most gorgeous vision of beauty and white lace emerged, rendering him love-struck all over again.

Yeah, for Nicola he could sport a bowtie and monkey suit. Hell, he’d do a top hat and a cane. Anything to get to, “I do.”

The walk down the aisle was almost too much. How the hell was he this lucky? The only thing Cash wanted was Nicola in his arms. But her slow procession had a payoff. Her hand landed in his, and everything felt perfect.

The preacher droned on, talking to the filled church pews. Cash wasn’t listening, totally entranced by his bride. Love swelled, thumping loudly throughout his body, and an excited constriction struck his throat. The only thing he had to do, other than stare at Nicola, was recite his vows. He’d easily agreed to write them without thinking over the consequence of that decision. Could he put into words his dreams of the future? His promises to take care of her, partner with her? Hell, worship her for the rest of their lives?

And then the preacher’s eyes were upon him. Show time. Cash unfolded the paper with his neatly printed vows. If he thought his smile couldn’t get any bigger, he was wrong. And then it was just them. He saw no one else in the church besides Nicola Garrison, his soon-to-be wife.

Nothing he wrote would do justice to what he wanted to say. Screw it. Crumbling up the paper with his vows, he shoved it back into his pocket and clasped her hands in his.

“Hey, sweet girl.” He thumbed the tops of her knuckles.

“Hi,” she whispered, smiling. “I love you.”

God, did he love this woman. Needed her too. And no pre-written vows, no matter how authentic, could encapsulate how he felt in this moment. Cash cleared his throat, pressed her knuckles to his lips in a kiss, and breathed out.