“The honeymoon doesn’t start until later,” someone calls from the cheering throng.
My husband snorts. “Little does he know that we’re living in endless marital bliss.”
I nuzzle against his throat. “It seems like I’m already reaping the benefits of that.”
“And I’ve only been practicing until now. Just you wait, Mrs. Winters.” He seals the promise with another scorching kiss.
Bubbles float in our path as our family and friends celebrate our union. We pose for what seems like an endless stream of pictures. Dinner is served and devoured, but I barely taste a morsel. My concentration is too focused on Landon. I’d feel a tad obsessive if his attention wasn’t stalking me with the same ferocity. Nonstop clinking against glass provides an unnecessary excuse to maul him. I shed more tears when Clea, Audria, and Presley recite a three-way maid of honor speech.
There’s a slight intermission between cutting the cake and our first dance. My friends hover close as we take goofy selfies. I grab a fresh glass of champagne as Audria and Presley wander off, leaving Clea glued to my side.
“Well, well, well.” Her drawl is laced with humor. “Looks like someone found her happily ever after.”
“I sure did.” A giddy zip rushes under my skin. “And with the least likely man.”
“Is he really, though?”
“That depends on who you’re asking.”
“He’s good for you,” she muses. “It takes a certain someone to claim a jaded heart.”
“As it turns out.” I send her a wink.
She takes a bow. “I totally called this ending. Feel free to lavish me with praise whenever the mood strikes.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can take credit.” I giggle, scattering the bubbles in my glass.
Her brow arches high. “That was easier than it should’ve been.”
A lazy shrug meets her suspicion. “What’s there to argue about? I’m stupid in love.”
“Is it better than your imagination?”
“Leaps and bounds. I can’t even compare the two.”
Clea whistles, attempting to mask the watery sheen in her eyes. “Must be nice.”
I feel my grin droop. “No, don’t be sad. You’re going to meet the one any second. Maybe he’s here tonight.”
“He’s not. I can guarantee that.”
With a heavy sigh, I wrap her in a hug. “Well, he’s missing out. Not only is my wedding the greatest event of the year, but he could’ve been on your arm all night. His loss, Clea.”
Her shoulders sag inward. “If only that were the case. I’m turning into a non-believer.”
“Don’t you dare.” I give her a gentle shake. “I’ll be sure you’re eating those words soon enough. There are billions of eggplants in the garden. You just need to choose who’s ripe for the picking.”
“Coming from the girl who thought she was cursed,” she deadpans.
I wince against the rim of my champagne flute. “That was a slight exaggeration on my part.”
“Just a tad, but we love you for it. All right”—she shoos me away—“I’m done being a downer. Go find your hubby and make babies.”
I choke on my drink, doubling over from the impact. “Please don’t put that pressure on me. I’ve been married for two point five seconds.”
“Get used to it. That’s what everyone will be asking you until there’s a bun in the oven.” She pats my back before strutting her stuff toward the bar.
I shake off the visual of my stomach round with Landon’s baby. Eventually, but not yet. Practicing is most definitely in our near future. I find my mister across the room in a blink. As if feeling my stare, Landon lifts his head and gives me the smolder. My knees get a little weak from the force. While accentuating the swing in my hips, I sashay like a freshly crowned pageant queen. The sea of people blocking my path might as well be invisible. The bounce in my stilettos gives me a floating sensation. Anyone standing in my direct trajectory shuffles out of the way. Being the bride definitely has its perks.
Landon watches me approach with a feral hunger I can almost hear rumbling. A shiver skates down my spine, sending a prickling trail of goosebumps to follow. I prop myself against the wall he’s leaning on, discovering a sense of déjà vu in our position. He swirls the bourdon in his tumbler without taking a sip. His familiar woodsy scent assaults me. I can only hope he’s getting dizzy off me as well. We remain quiet while deciding who breaks first. There’s no real suspense in this showdown. It’s always me filling the silence.
“Hey, handsome.”
A throaty groan reverberates from deep within him. “You look sweeter than sugar.”
I flip my hair behind me with a laugh. “My husband can assure you I’m not. Speaking of, do you know the bride or groom?”
He loops an arm around my waist, hauling me against him. “The bride is all mine. Forever.”
I twirl his tie between my fingers. “Good, because I’m growing rather fond of the groom.”
“Then we’re both getting lucky in this deal.”
“Careful, Lannie. A woman might call you romantic.”
“I’m good with that, so long as she’s you.”
I rest a palm to my forehead. “Oh, the swoon.”
He nips at my tilted chin. “Don’t act surprised. I’ve been charming your pants off for almost a year.”
“Too bad for you that I normally wear skirts.”
His chuckle is rich and saucy and goes straight to my lady bits. “No, sugar. That’s not to my detriment in the slightest.”
“You’re right. The easy access has been mutually beneficial.” I hum and tap my lips.
Landon plants a kiss on the spot, nibbling on my fingertip. “And I expect you to continue providing it.”
“Well, you’ll have to put in some extra effort this evening.” I motion to the excessive volume surrounding my lower half while twisting back and forth, swishing the numerous layers against the floor.
He lifts a handful of lace and silk at my hip. “I’ll just bury myself underneath.”
I widen my legs, testing the width, and glance down. “That could probably work.”
With a growl, he yanks me closer. “Ravishing as always.”
“You’re responsible for making me a fiend.” I bump our noses together, teasing his mouth with mine.
He takes the bait, sealing us in a chaste peck. “Does this mean you like me?”
“Maybe a little bit.” I hold up a pinch between two fingers.
“Well, Mrs. Winters, I better improve my odds.”
“There’s no rush when we have eternity.”
“Consider me an overachiever. Now,” he slips my palm into his, “I have to christen the dancefloor with my wife.”
As Landon spins me around in a cyclone of tulle and pattering heartbeats, our fairytale really sinks in. This man—my once sworn enemy and cofounder of The Haters Club—gave me his last name as my own. For keeps.
**FOR EBOOK ONLY**
Want more of Landon and Vannah? I have an additional epilogue plus a deleted scene that you can read for free. Grab them HERE! (insert link: