Brace myself.
And what she tells me after she draws me out into the hall, to the elevator, down to my car don’t disappoint.
“Go home.”
Yup. The most beautiful words a man can hear.
I take her hand, hold her stare with my own.
“I’m already there.”
Brooks, Years Before
She’s beautiful.
She’s walking toward me in a wedding dress, crisp white and fitted in a way that mixes innocence and sin.
Sleek fabric clinging to breasts I’ve dreamed about, hips I’ve imagined grasping as I thrust deep, splitting on midthigh to give just a glimpse of silken skin.
Mine.
Mine.
The thought ricochets through me so violently, I know.
Know.
The truth.
The reality.
The…future.
But by the time I process it, what that reality means for my—our—future, she’s there.
Her bright blue eyes glimmering with love and hope, with tears of happiness.
She…is beautiful and good and…
I’m a monster.
I’m going to destroy her.
Her hand finds mine and she steps close, fingers tightening in that soft way of hers, silently telling me she’s here.
Her plump lips are painted pink. Her freckles are softened by her makeup. Her lashes look longer than normal, darkened with mascara, and they don’t need help. They already rest gently on her cheeks when she sleeps.
“Dearly beloved we are gathered here today to…”
I nearly jump out of my skin at the soft female voice coming from between us. The officiant is holding a book even though it’s clear she has her spiel memorized, even down to the timing of pauses, waiting for chuckles or laughter or whatever feedback she normally receives from a wedding ceremony.
But there aren’t rows and rows of chairs, filled with loving family and friends.
There aren’t many voices to lend their approval to the quiet jokes and idioms.
Just two stoic witnesses—one my bodyguard, who I trust with my life…and hers, and the other my best friend, Jace. Who I trust just as deeply.
The mountains are behind us.
