Page 78 of Desperate People

But fuck all of that.

I’m standing here because I want to be here.

Because I love her.

Not just her body—though that curves-in-all-the-right-places figure still drives me insane.

Not just her face—though she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

No. It’s deeper than that.

I love the way she argues when she’s nervous.

I love the little huff she does when she’s right and trying not to gloat.

I love her mind. Her heart. Her goddamn soul.

And today, I plan to marry her. All of her.

And then I plan to make her fall for me just as hard.

She gets closer, bouquet trembling slightly in her hands. Her father beside her, expression stoic, but there’s a twitch in his jaw that says he’s holding back another threat.

I barely acknowledge him.

Because she’s all I see.

Her dress hugs her like it was made by angels.

Her lips are parted just slightly.

She’s biting back emotion.

Good.

Because I want her to feel. I want her to know this is real.

This is forever.

Connor leans closer and mutters, “If you faint, I swear to God I’m posting it online.”

I finally glance at him and snort. “Shut up.”

But my voice is rough.

Because I’m not used to this kind of happiness.

This kind of hope.

And as Lucy reaches the altar, her gaze flickers to mine, questioning—still a little unsure.

I take her hand. Bring it to my lips.

And with a voice that only she can hear, I whisper, “You’re mine now, Angel. And I plan to spend the rest of my life making sure you never forget it.”

Her eyes widen.

Her breath catches.

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