With both of my parents on my arm, we walked through The Red Room. On stage, Electric Roses began playing “Just My Imagination.”
We turned a corner.
The crowd parted.
Max looked up at my entrance. I stopped mid-step, stunned by that hurricane of happiness. I watched a storm of emotions move across his face. His jaw dropped. He closed it.
Then he cocked that wicked grin my way.
My knees went weak. I’d never seen Max Devlin in an honest-to-god suit before. He wasn’t entirely clean-shaven, per my request, and you could just see the tattoos on his hands peeking out.
My anti-Prince Charming winked at me.
Such a fucking flirt even at our wedding.
My parents and I kept walking as the music built. Mateo stood in the center, ready to be our officiant. Next to Max stood Pop, also in a suit. He was red-cheeked with tears silently tracking down his face. Angela held his hand, smiling brightly. Rafael held his and Mateo’s son, Felix, in his arms.
We hadn’t seen Max’s mom since the week of the benefit show, which was to be expected. He’d called to tell her about the wedding, of course. She was surprised but sounded happy. With the short timeline, she wasn’t able to make it in time from her new place in Las Vegas.
I was secretly happy Max wouldn’t have to hope she’d show.
Roxy and Edward stood to the left, looking hopelessly in love and beyond excited for me. She mouthed I love you, and I mouthed it back. The crowd around us was filled with family and friends, all the people who cared about us, who lifted us up when we needed it and caught us when we stumbled. Who believed in music and dancing and chasing their joy.
The moment I reached Max felt still, breathless, powerful. We entwined our hands eagerly, Max’s dark eyes studying mine. He was just slightly teary, but mostly all big, happy grins.
I was too.
My parents stepped behind me. Mateo cleared his throat as the song ended and the audience quieted.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here at this last-minute wedding.” The audience laughed. Max squeezed my fingers and tugged me closer. “Given the tight timeline, this ceremony isn’t exactly official or legally binding, but Max and Fiona have assured me they will marry at the courthouse as well. But given their love and excitement, they couldn’t wait a moment longer to declare their love, commitment, and partnership in front of their community.”
It was true, what Max had said last night during his proposal. Our life together was so beautiful, I didn’t find myself yearning to check relationship goals off of some list. We were just blissfully delighted. That was all that mattered.
But, deep down, the little girl that dreamed of white dresses and romantic ceremonies still wanted the symbolism of marrying your soul mate in front of those you loved the most. Proclaiming to the world that Max Devlin was the love of my life, now and forever.
“It is an honor for me to officiate this wedding for my two closest friends,” Mateo continued. “I know many of us in the room took bets on these two when they planned that benefit show.”
More laughter. Pop grinned, shaking his head.
“For those who had married within two years of meeting, you’ve won the big prize, so talk to me after,” Mateo added.
Max pressed a kiss to my hand, eyes dancing with mirth.
To us, Mateo said, “I love you, hermano. And Fiona, welcome to our family, hermanita.” He swept us into a big hug, whispering something in Max’s ear. Max nodded, clapped him on the shoulder. I heard him say, I love you. Behind Max’s shoulder, Pop gave me a watery smile.
He and Angela had gotten married at the courthouse about six months ago. Given both of their histories, they hadn’t wanted a fuss, merely to formalize their love. She’d worn a yellow dress and carried a bouquet of red roses, of course.
“Max and Fiona wanted a short ceremony, given their desire to…” Mateo paused, arched a brow. “… party all fucking night.”
A roar from the audience. The guitarist played a quick riff that had everyone laughing.
“So before we start, these two lovebirds would like to speak.”
Max squeezed my hands. “I’m a little nervous,” he whispered.
“Me too,” I said, biting my lip. We inhaled and exhaled together. I stepped even closer, held Max’s hands, and looked him directly in the eye. To Max, to the audience, I said, “I love you with my whole heart, Max Devlin. Before I met you, I’d spent my entire life waiting to fall in love. I’m so very grateful you were the one who caught me when I fell.”
Max kissed the center of my palm. I could feel his fingers shaking. “I love you,” he said. “Of everything I could say right now, I just want you to know that I spent years searching for a home. For my home.” He took a steadying breath. “It was you all along, princess.”
I kissed him. Even though it wasn’t technically time—but I was a Quinn, and we were rule-breakers at heart. Max grinned against my mouth. The audience clapped and cheered.
When we parted, my body was alight with sparks from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.
Apparently, I’d loved Max Devlin from the very moment we met.
MAX
It wasn’t considered a good night unless it ended at dawn with breakfast at the Westway Diner.
The Quinn-Devlin wedding party took over the diner, crashing into the vinyl seats as coffee was delivered. We had, as promised, danced all night long. The Electric Roses played one hell of a set, with The Hand Grenades stepping in to play for a few hours around midnight. Fiona had kicked off her heels and danced in that giant, gorgeous, fairy-tale dress all night. We had food delivered and endless rounds of drinks, and Roxy had made us a dress-shaped wedding cake made entirely of cupcakes. “Not one, but two cupcake dresses,” she’d said with a wink. Fiona hugged her so hard they tumbled to the ground, laughing.
Pop spun Angela around the room all night, dancing like I hadn’t seen him in years. Mateo and Rafael tried their hardest to get me properly drunk, even as Mrs. Rivera chided us with good humor.
Fiona glittered like an actual princess, and I had layers of lipstick smeared on my mouth from our constant kissing. My bad-ass spitfire of a wife even crowd-surfed with her sister—strongly encouraged, of course, by their parents.
But the sun was rising now, and our bags were packed on the back of my motorcycle. I’d booked us a cabin in the Catskills, and I was very much looking forward to long evenings in front of the fireplace.
Naked. Definitely naked.
While everyone ate and laughed and fell asleep at the tables, Fiona slipped out of the bathroom with her sister. Roxy held the cupcake dress in one hand.
Fiona was now wearing a short white blazer-dress that was part eighties-style, part lawyer-chic. It was short, showing off her long legs and high heels.
She sauntered over to me with mischief in that smile.
“Damn, princess,” I said. “You trying to kill your husband dead?”
She twirled for me. “You like it?”
I yanked her against my chest so I could whisper against her ear. “I love it as much as I’m going to love fucking you in it. Heels on, too.”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
I laughed, gave her a messy kiss. “You ready to ride off into the sunrise with me?”