“Please. He’s not worth it. He’s already taken up too much of our lives.”
I don’t need to clarify who I speak of.
I refuse to allow him or anyone to ruin today because I have something special planned; something which I hope doesn’t backfire. This is the reason I’ve not slept yet.
With so much death and misery surrounding us, we need this. This is the only thing I can do to help Punky understand how much I love him. That no matter how much blood he has on his hands, I will never leave his side.
This is forever…
“Today is about us.”
Here goes nothing.
“Can you meet me at Kavanagh’s at two o’clock?”
Instantly, a wave of panic overcomes him. “Yer goin’ back there to stay?”
“No,” I quickly reply as he’s misunderstood. “Just meet me at two?”
“Cami—”
But I place my finger over his lips. “Stop arguing and do what you’re told. For once.”
I’m rewarded with a lopsided smirk before Punky wraps his arm around my waist and draws me into his chest. “I’d follow ya into hell if you asked me to.”
Come nightfall, he just may regret his choice of words.
“I’ll see you at two.”
“Are you goin’ to tell me what we’re doin’?”
I shake my head with a grin. “It’s a secret.”
My sass soon crumbles, however, when Punky runs his thumb across my mouth. “I could make ya talk.”
My heart launches into a deafening staccato, but I won’t be distracted. I need to be strong and not give in to those piercing blue eyes, muscled bare chest, and luscious, full lips.
But he knows me better than I know myself, and a husky chuckle escapes him. “I think ye’d like that,” he arrogantly states, gently slipping the tip of his thumb into my mouth.
He hungrily watches me, daring me to resist. I want him. I always want him. But I stamp down my desire and nip him with my teeth.
He hisses but doesn’t remove his thumb.
“Savage,” he teases, setting me on fire with that sultry look reserved only for me. “All right, Babydoll. Yer secret is safe. For now. A’ll see you at two.”
I wait for him to kiss me, but he simply removes his thumb, knowing that I’m totally hot for him. He just played me at my own game.
I go to turn, but he grips me by the throat and arches my head back. He smirks when he feels me swallow deeply beneath his grip. “I still plan on makin’ ya talk…all night long.”
My resolve is slipping, and just as I open my mouth, ready to spill all my secrets, he lets me go. I almost fall flat on my face but regain my footing and pride.
Punky saunters into the bathroom, knowing he’s won this round. But little does he know, I’ve won the whole fucking game.
This was all my doing, and I’m still so nervous.
Taking what feels like the hundredth deep breath, I smooth out the invisible wrinkles in my white dress. It’s a simple summer dress, but when I saw it in the store, I knew it was perfect. My feet are bare and I wear my hair loose.
The only piece of jewelry I wear is my necklace with Cara’s rose brooch. I’ll never forget it once belonged to her and the importance this brooch holds. The moment I stole it, I knew my life would be changed forevermore.
It seems fitting I wear it today.
“Are ya ready, love?” Aine asks, ducking her head into the bedroom. “He’s been waitin’ for twenty minutes.”
Nodding at my reflection in the mirror, I take my last deep breath. I can do this. I want to do this.
Aine smiles, tears in her eyes, but these tears are filled with happiness for me because I finally found my happily ever after.
I follow her down the corridor, not paying any attention to the nosy guests because when I walk into the garden and see Punky, everything fades into the background, and all that exists is us; just like always. It’s us versus the world.
He’s as in tune to me as I am to him because when I’m a few feet away, he turns around. He looks beyond epic in ripped black jeans, a white button-up, and black combat boots. The sleeves are rolled up, exposing his taut forearms and tattoos.
Three buttons are undone, revealing an expanse of pure perfection. The light sprinkle of chest hair catches the sunlight, as does his tattoo. His nose ring and mussed hair just add to the bad-boy vibe, but Punky takes the term and makes it his own.
I know I’m staring, but I can’t help it. He takes my breath away.
“You look beautiful,” he says with nothing but love in his eyes.
“Thank you.”
I know he’s curious to why I asked him here, but when his attention drops to my ringless finger, that curiosity turns to dread. I applied some makeup, which has covered my busted lip, but no matter how much makeup I wear, Punky won’t forget. And he believes I won’t either.
But I won’t let anything ruin today because today is the first day of the rest of our lives.
“Do you remember when you asked me what month I’d like for us to be married in?”
Punky nods, unsure and afraid.
“And you said you’d like for us to be married in the castle.”
“Aye, I remember,” he says, watching me closely. “What’s goin’ on, Cami?”
Taking a calming breath, I continue. “Well, what I should have replied was now.”
Punky arches a brow, completely lost.
So, I clarify. “I know this isn’t the castle, but this place is like my home. I used to pretend it was ours and that one day, you were going to walk up that driveway and tell me everything was going to be all right.
“You said to me a new day means hope, and you hoped that come nightfall, I would tell you what date I was going to be your wife. That date…it’s now. I want to be your wife. No more waiting.”
Punky is quiet, and I can see I’ve caught him off guard. His silence makes me nervous. Have I acted in haste?
Tomorrow we face the unknown, but that’s not the reason I want to marry him. I’ve wanted to be his since the moment we met.
“Puck?” I coax when he continues staring at me, not saying a word. “We can wait—”
“No, we cannot,” he finally speaks. “I want you. Always and forever. And I want you to be my wife.”
Tears well. I’m unable to wipe my smile away.
“Let’s do this then.”
Aine stands in front of us, book in hand. Punky purses his lips, confused.
“I’m an officiant, lad,” she explains, slipping on her silver-rimmed glasses. “Comes in handy for times such as this.”
I can’t help but laugh as Aine told me she got her license because there is something magical about Kavanagh’s that has couples falling in love and wanting to get married. She said it was impossible to find a minister at the last minute, so she took matters into her own hands—who was she to stand in the way of love?
I think Aine is an old romantic at heart, but I dare not tell her that.
This idea of mine was sprung late last night, so it was a no-brainer who I wanted to marry us and where. There are no guests. Just two witnesses to make this official. But that’s how I want it. When Shay is older, I will explain why, but I didn’t think it was in good taste to have him at our wedding with his mom not even buried yet.