“What if I grew back the hair?” I motion to the length it was pre-Shonda’s evil silver scissors of doom.
She slugs me in the arm. “There is only room in this relationship for one bun.”
In one swift motion, I pull the pin from her hair and it cascades over her shoulders in shiny ripples of silk. I lean in and inhale. “Your hair is beautiful and so are your eyes, nose, your lips, all of you.”
Her mouth twists. “You haven’t seen my feet. Ballet did a number on them.”
“I love them all the more. What about my height? Is it off the not love list?”
She lengthens against me. “Better to reach things off high shelves, my dear,” she says in a deep voice, in an adorable imitation of the Big Bad Wolf.
I chuckle.
“And your hands. Better to touch me with. Along with your lips.” Cat plants a soft kiss on mine.
“I like this new list so far. As for being uncooperative and stubborn?”
“I’ve rethought those. You’ve worked on both and I crossed them off a couple of weeks ago.”
“Last one...”
“I would say we’re very compatible.”
“In every way?”
“In every way,” she repeats.
A small grin flits onto my lips. Hers lift at the same time. Our gazes flicker and spark. Inside, the wolf no longer makes demands. He’s satisfied, full, and complete. And if I’m not mistaken, a little purr escapes Cateline’s throat.
“So, we’re going to do this?” I ask.
“You tell me,” she answers.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “Miss Berghier, I would enjoy the honor of your company at dinner.”
“Do you mean, am I hungry and do I want a bite to eat?” she translates into Connor-speak.
We both laugh.
I slide her grandmother’s engagement ring off her finger and pinch it between mine. “And, Cateline, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”
She grips my jaw and says, “Oui.”
We sink into a long kiss. I circle my arms around her, drowning out any sense of doubt or hesitation and leaving only love on the surface.
The next daysare a flurry of wedding preparation. Apparently, Mrs. Berghier had everything planned, intended for Cateline and Gaston. Thankfully, I don’t understand French because they do more than a little bickering.
Cat confides that she loves her mother’s plans, just not that they were made with Gaston in mind. In the end, I think the two make up because the general tone turns from coarse to gentle, and the wedding is a fresh field of lavender, light, and has delicious food.
Personally, I never thought much about my wedding, so as long as Cateline meets me at the end of the aisle, I’m a happy man.
We hold the ceremony at a little stone chapel in town. It’s nothing like Cain’s and part of me wishes my brother were here, so he could see that his life doesn’t have to be one long battle.
There are flowers everywhere, including a wreath of lavender in Cat’s long, flowing hair. I hear every word the minister says, but cannot take my eyes off this woman—her warm dark eyes, the lift of her cheeks as she smiles, the soft brush of her lasheswhen she blinks, the gentle slope of her neck leading to a white satin gown that hugs her figure.
The words, “I do,” are out of my mouth almost before I’m supposed to speak them.
Our kiss at the end is one for the history books, and pronounced husband and wife, we stride down the aisle amidst howls, hoots, and flower petals.
