"Dr. Lange, then." He spins me, pulls me back against him. "How long before we can politely leave our own reception?"
"Impatient?"
"To get you alone? Always."
We make our rounds eventually. Thank guests, accept congratulations, pose for photos that Holden's mom insists on taking.
Thatcher stands near the refreshment table, trying very hard not to stare at Gwen Abernathy. She's deep in conversation with Kowalski, gesturing with her wine glass to make some point about trauma response protocols. When she catches Thatcher looking, she raises her glass in mock salute. He actually flushes before turning away.
"That's going to be interesting," I murmur to Holden.
"If he ever works up the courage to actually talk to her beyond awkward small talk, maybe."
"You think he will?"
"Eventually. Thatcher's stubborn." Holden watches his friend with amusement. "Gwen might make him work for it though."
"Good. He needs someone who won't make it easy."
Griff appears with Lennox Bradshaw, the cyber security specialist who helped secure my systems after the breach. Her short blonde hair is slightly longer than when I last saw her, andthere's tension crackling between her and Griff that wasn't there before.
"Congratulations," Lennox says, tone polite but distant. "Lovely ceremony."
Griff shoots her a look that suggests they've been arguing about something. She ignores him, which only seems to increase whatever is sparking between them. They drift away still bickering, leaving Holden and me exchanging amused glances.
Commander Hartwell catches my eye from across the reception. She's watching the crowd with the awareness that never shuts off, even at celebrations. When our gazes meet, she nods once. Acknowledgment of the conversation we had earlier. The reminder that threats don't pause for happiness.
But on this day, surrounded by people we care about, celebrating the commitment we've made, those threats feel manageable. Something we'll face when the time comes.
The reception winds down as the evening deepens. Guests drift away with hugs and well-wishes and promises to see us after the honeymoon. Holden's team lingers longest, reluctant to let their commander return to civilian life even temporarily. But eventually even they leave, heading back to base or hotels, giving us the privacy we've been waiting for.
Then it's just us. The beach, the cottage, the rest of our lives stretching out ahead.
Holden pulls me close, one arm around my waist, the other hand finding mine. "Come on, wife. Let's go home."
Inside, he stops in the living room, just looking at me. The dress, the way my hair has come loose from its style, the ring on my finger that matches his. Something shifts in his expression—heat mixing with tenderness, need tempered by patience.
"You're staring."
"I'm memorizing." His voice drops lower. "My wife. Dr. Fallon Lange. The woman who changed everything."
"Your wife," I agree, testing how the title feels. It fits better than I expected. "The woman who's going to need help getting out of this dress."
"I can help with that."
He does, slowly and carefully. Fingers working the corset laces, hands sliding fabric from my shoulders, mouth following the path of skin revealed. We make it to the bedroom eventually, leaving a trail of formal clothes behind us. His dress whites. My silk gown. Shoes and jewelry and everything that marked the ceremony.
What happens next is tender and unhurried. Holden maps my body with the reverent attention of someone who knows exactly what I need, what makes me sigh, what makes me moan, what makes me arch into his touch. I return the favor, hands finding the places where he's most sensitive, using the words that make his control slip, the combination of touch and pressure that has him gasping my name.
We make love as husband and wife for the first time. Connected physically and emotionally, building toward pleasure that crashes through both of us in waves that leave us breathless and tangled together in the aftermath.
"I love you," he murmurs against my hair.
"Love you too." I curl into his warmth, exhausted and happy and content. "Think we can do this? The whole marriage thing?"
"Baby, we've already been doing it. This just makes it official."
Sleep pulls at me despite wanting to stay awake, to hold onto this moment a little longer. But exhaustion wins, and I drift off with Holden's heartbeat steady under my ear.
