Page 3 of Cuffing His Bride

I take measured steps up to the altar and step behind the woman. I grab her elbow before she can hit me and wrap an arm around her waist, before lifting her up and off her victim. Truth be told, I’m glad for her voluminous dress. Without it, she may have felt how aroused her proximity was making me. But still, she won’t release the guy from her grip.

“That’s enough,” I murmur in her ear. She stills in my arms, hands falling away, and I use that opportunity to carry her away from the man. He staggers up as soon as she’s out of arm’s reach and swears.

“You psycho bitch—”

The bride tries to throw herself back at the man, but she’s no match for my strength. I pull her flush against my body as she kicks her feet in his direction and screams back at him.

“Officer Blue,” I call out to the rookie. “Start taking statements, I’ll take care of this one.”

“Rot in hell, Amelia,” the man snarls. I’m assuming he was at one point the groom, not that he looks like he deserves the woman in my arms. She’s practically vibrating with rage that does nothing to cool my throbbing cock.

I stare at the groom and that’s enough to shut him up. I’ve been told that my face scares the hell out of people; it can come in handy when I’m dealing with assholes like this guy.

“No one leaves until they’ve given their statement,” I say, loudly enough to ensure that no one takes it as a request before looking down at the vibrating fury in my arms. “You’re coming with me.”

She doesn’t protest as I walk her out. Her long hair, so dark and silky, curtains her face so that I’m unable to read her expression. She doesn’t say a word as I lead her to the squad car but don’t push her in.

“Alright, take a minute to breathe. You’re coming to the precinct either way, so don’t give me a reason to handcuff you.”

The woman huffs and turns her head to the side. I grab her chin and lift her face so she sees how serious I am, but when her chocolate-brown eyes meet mine, I forget what I was going to say.

She blinks at my silence.

Say something.

Fuck. I’m a thirty-year-old man, and too world weary to be mesmerized by someone’s beauty. She’s much younger than me, and a jilted bride besides that. Not to mention she’s under my custody …

Seeing her in the natural light doesn’t make it easier to look away. Her cheeks are flushed a deep pink from her anger and her chest is still heaving, but the fight gone from her eyes. In its place is despair.

Suddenly, the reality of her situation seems to sink in. Her lower lip trembles as she looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. I am overwhelmed with the urge to take her back into my arms and make everything better, just so she doesn’t have to carry that sorrowful expression.

“I’m not crying,” she huffs, embarrassed by her tears. “I’m not going to give you more trouble, officer.”

My cock hardens at her whispered words, and I battle with the need to draw her into my chest and kiss her hair until she calms down. Another part of me wants to spin her around so her hands are on the car and fuck her against it in broad daylight, just to relieve the tension in my pants. Somehow, I want it to be both.

I don’t get the chance to make a choice.

“Sir,” someone taps me on the shoulder, which makes me jump back to reality. “I’m ready to give my witness statement.”

“Alright,” I say, clearing my throat before backing away from the woman. She sniffs, watching me curiously while rubbing her hands on her bare arms. I take a step away from her but don’t entirely leave.

“I’m fine, you can go ahead,” she whispers, dropping her eyes to the ground. “It’s not like I have any strength left to make another scene.”

My eyes shift away from her and back to the church. The broken look on her face is enough to have me thinking of ways I could hurt the asshole she attacked, but that could get me sued. I can’t bear the thought of making more trouble for her when she’s already in such a mess.

“Sir,” the bystander calls again, cutting into my thoughts. I force myself to walk away from the bride, and all I can think of is, I want her. I want to make this day better for her, show her how a real man acts when faced with making a commitment.

I want to make her mine.

Chapter Three

Amelia

Iwouldmeet the most attractive man on the entire planet as I’m trying to rip my fiancé limb from limb. Just my luck. I look like some bride-zilla out of a horror film, not even the dumb, pretty one that gets killed first. No, I’m the one killing everyone by the end. Despite the smudged makeup and disheveled hair that make me look like I caught a zombie virus, IswearI’m not.

Now that the adrenaline has faded away, my body is shaky. I lower myself to the curb next to the squad car. The anger quickly turns to mortification and it’s all I can do to keep myself from crying.

“Fuck,” I groan, hating that the tears start falling anyway. I was so close to finally being able to buy back my mom’s flower shop. My effort putting together this bullshit wedding has all been for nothing, and now I’ve made a fool of myself on top of that. How will I ever face my family again after all of this?

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