His grin went slow and dangerous. “Challenge accepted.”
Garbage reappeared twenty minutes later, bow tie missing, covered in dirt, looking pleased with himself. He’d buried the bouquet somewhere in the woods.
We never found it.
“Best wedding ever,” Faith declared, taking pictures of Garbage’s guilty face for Instagram.
I had to agree.
The first dance was to a song Cole had written just for this. About finding home in unexpected places and second chances. About building something beautiful from broken pieces.
“No regrets?” he asked as we swayed together.
“Not a single one.”
“Even though I got hot sauce on my suit?”
I looked. Sure enough, a small orange stain decorated his lapel. “Even though. It’s very on-brand.”
He laughed, pulled me closer. “I love you, Autumn Stone.”
“I love you, too.”
The last guests trickled out around midnight. Cole’s hand found the small of my back, his touch burning through the lace of my dress.
“Ready to go, Mrs. Stone?”
My stomach flipped. Mrs. Stone. I’d never get tired of hearing that.
“Depends. What did you have in mind?”
His eyes went dark. “I want to ravage my wife.”
“Then ravage away.”
He swept me up without warning. I yelped, grabbing his shoulders.
He kicked open the bedroom door.
I stopped breathing.
Candles lit every surface. Rose petals scattered across the floor, leading to our bed. More petals covered the white duvet in shades of cream and blush.
“When did you…?”
“Decker and Eli helped. Don’t ask questions.” He set me down, spun me around. “Let me get you out of this dress.”
His fingers found the first clasp at my neck. He unhooked it. Pressed his mouth to the newly exposed skin.
I shivered.
“Cold?”
“Opposite of cold.”
He unhooked the second clasp. Kissed lower. The third. His lips traced my spine.
“Can’t we just… rip it off or something?”
