“Nic, my farthest reaching memory is you. My farthest reaching dream is this: marrying you. Promising my love, honor, and faithfulness until I take my last breath… Whether that’s from old age or from my enemy’s bullet, whether we’re on opposite sides of the world or working in the trenches together, know that you are my best friend, my truest love, the center of my existence. Every day I have with you is a gift.

“I vow to be your partner, to always have your back. I vow to hold your hand when no words are needed, hold you tight if you need comfort, and kiss your lips just because. I’ve always been yours, sweet girl. And I’ll always be yours. Today. Tomorrow. Forever.”

Nicola wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. A soft chuckle ran through the church, reminding him that they weren’t really alone. But he didn’t care, and she obviously didn’t either because they weren’t anywhere close to, “you may now kiss the bride.”

Somewhere behind him, the groomsmen were getting rowdy. Someone let out a, “hooyah.” And Beth—he was sure of it—aww-ed. Loudly. But they all faded away. Nic’s lips were on his, and the kiss reached into the depths of his soul.

Nic drew back from their too-hot-for-church kiss. “My turn.” She held out her small white paper, then ripped it, tossing the paper pieces into the air like confetti. Another chuckle ran through the church. “Here I go… Cash Garrison, I took your last name when I never thought I’d see you again.” Pain flashed in her eyes, and he caressed her hand until she smiled again. “It was the saddest of consolation prizes, but I clung to it because you were my world. I love you. More and more each day.

“I promise my heart, my soul. I promise to always trust and love unconditionally. I will follow you to the ends of the Earth if you need me. I will be your faithful, loyal wife to come home to, knowing you are forever my partner. Yes, in sickness and in health. But also through the hell of radio silence and undercover operations. I am yours, as I always have been. I vow this to you today.”

Cash had her in his arms the second she stopped speaking. He snaked his fingers around her veil, into her hair, and dipped her back, kissing her again in front of God and guests. Screw the reception. He was ready for the honeymoon suite.

Behind him, the preacher laughed. “The rings are just a formality. Skipping right along, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Cheers and claps echoed around them.

Husband and wife. Cash and Nicola Garrison. For real. He whispered into her ear. “How long do we have before the reception?”

She giggled. “I don’t know. Why?”