Page 42 of Her Possessive Biker
Jim insisted on catering, complete with a tower of pies. The man still side-eyes me from time to time, but he’s all in now.
Grizz offered up his prized Black Crown Bourbon for the toast on one condition. Cassie’s glass better be filled with sweet tea or he’d toss the offender out the back door himself. She's carrying our baby, and I still can’t believe it. I’m going to be a dad.
The morning of the ceremony, my nerves are a steel wire pulled tight. I’ve been shot at weddings before. You never know who might show up with a grudge and a bad idea. So I’m in a suit, but my cut’s underneath, and my Glock’s riding in a shoulder holster. Diesel and Deadeye are on patrol. Another one of my brother’s guarding the gate, blade in plain view.
“Relax,” Grizz grunts, slapping my shoulder. “It’s a wedding, not a war.”
“Same damn thing,” I mutter.
He laughs like he knows I’m only half-joking.
Music starts. Camden’s playlist of classic rock, slowed down and played acoustic by Nomad. The crowd rises. And then I see her.
My Angel.
Walking toward me with bare feet in the grass, white lace hugging her curves and flaring at the hips. Her hair’s loose, falling around her shoulders in copper waves. Her freckles dust her skin like stars. And her smile hits me like a gut punch.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
She links her arm through Caleb’s. He walks her down the aisle, proud and limping only slightly. He whispers something that makes her laugh and then he passes her to me like I’m the only man in the world he trusts with her.
Maybe I am.
The altar’s made of stacked whiskey crates draped with linen and wildflowers. Diesel stands between us in a clean button-down and his usual scowl. He’s the only one here with an officiant license besides Grizz, and Grizz refused.
“I ain’t standing up there saying sappy shit,” he said. “That’s your circus.”
Diesel clears his throat, voice rough. “We’re gathered here today to witness this foolish bastard and this fiery angel tie the knot.”
A few chuckles.
He looks at me. “Holt, do you promise to love, honor, and scare the shit out of anyone who looks at her sideways for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.” No hesitation. No shake in my voice. I mean every damn word.
He turns to her. “Cassie, do you promise to love, sass, and keep this old man in line for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” she says, all grins and dimples.
“Then by the power vested in me by the state of Colorado, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Reaper, kiss your Angel.”
I don’t need to be told twice.
I grab her, dip her low, and kiss her like I’m starving. She clutches me back, soft and fierce all at once, and the whole club erupts in cheers. Diesel whistles. Lucy meows from a hay bale like she approves.
The reception blurs by. Toasts. Dancing. Red organizing like a general. Camden hugging Cassie every five minutes. Diesel actually smiling. Grizz tearing up when he thinks no one’s watching. Red clocks it and smacks him with a dish towel.
At some point, I slow dance with my wife.My wife. Her head rests on my chest. My cut’s over her dress. She says she likes the weight of it.
Camden pulls me aside just before we leave. “You ever make her cry, Gunner, I’ll cut off your balls.”
I nod. “That’s fair.”
Cassie laughs and hugs her tight, promising they’ll catch up soon. Grizz insists on packing us leftovers like we’re heading off to war. Diesel and Deadeye slap my back, muttering half-serious warnings about keeping her happy and making sure she eats.
Then we ride home.
The second we step inside, it hits me. It'soursnow.
