The venue is perfect. I stand near the entrance, taking it all in. The long tables are draped in ivory linens, and the room is bathed in a soft glow from the string lights overhead. The smell of garlic and rosemary fills the air, mixing with the faint sweetness of the tiramisu waiting on the dessert table. My heart melts listening to the hum of the many conversations our guests are having.
Frost's hand finds the small of my back, warm and steady. “You good?”
I nod, throat tight. “Yeah. It's... It's really happening.”
“Four more days,” he says, his voice low. “Then you're all mine. Forever.”
“I'm already yours.”
He grins, that slow, devastating smile that makes my knees weak. “Damn right, you are.”
The servers start bringing out platters of short ribs and salmon, bowls of garlic mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables, and Caesar salad in large wooden bowls. Everyone's reaching across the table, passing dishes, and laughing. The brothers are loud, as always, but it's the good kind of loud, the kind that feels like love and home. My heart swells as I think about howeveryone came together so quickly to make this day possible for us.
Mom catches my eye from across the room and blows me a kiss. I blow one back, blinking hard against the sting of tears.
“Alright, alright!” Hawk stands, tapping his glass with a fork, and the room quiets down. “Before we all get too drunk to remember this shit, we're doing speeches.”
Chaos jumps up, nearly knocking over his chair. “Best man goes first, right?”
“Unfortunately,” Frost mumbles beside me, but he's grinning.
Chaos clears his throat dramatically. “So, Frost… Deacon… Brother.” He pauses, milking it. “I've known this man for years. Seen him at his best, seen him at his worst. Seen him try to fix a carburetor with duct tape.”
Laughter ripples through the room.
“Seen him drink an entire bottle of whiskey and then try to convince us he could take on Eagle in a boxing match.” More laughter. “Spoiler alert… he couldn’t.”
Eagle beams. “Damn right. I might be old, but I can still kick your ass, Frost.”
“Jesus Christ,” Frost mutters, shaking his head.
Chaos grins. “But you know what I've never seen? I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at Hope.” His voice softens, and the room goes quiet. “Never seen him smile like that. Never seen him... settled. He finally found what he's been looking for.” He raises his glass. “Hope, you're one of us now. Frost, brother, I'm happy for you. Really fucking happy.”
My throat tightens. Frost's hand squeezes mine under the table.
“To Frost and Hope!” Chaos shouts.
“To Frost and Hope!” everyone echoes, glasses clinking.
Amy stands next, and I already know this is going to be good. She's wearing a dress, an actual dress, and she looks beautiful, even if she keeps tugging at the hem like it's personally offending her.
“Hope and I have been best friends since we were kids,” she starts. “I've seen her date some real winners.” She pauses. “And by winners, I mean losers.”
I laugh, covering my face with my hands.
“Then she met Frost.” Amy looks at him, and her expression shifts, still fierce, but softer. “I'll be honest, I was skeptical, especially when I found him in her room naked, and she was giv?—”
My parents both cover their ears, but the club brothers lean forward, hanging on every word.
The heat rushes to my cheeks as I jump out of my chair. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
“No, Amy,pleasefinish your sentence,” Chaos encourages.
Amy shakes her head, laughing. “Fine. Anyway, here’s this guy, covered in tattoos, who rides a motorcycle, and calls her 'darlin' like it's her actual name.”
Frost smirks.
“Then I see the way he looks at her. The way he listens when she talks and the way he makes her laugh.” Amy's voice cracks just a little. “He loves her.” She clears her throat, blinking hard. “So, Frost, welcome to the family. But just so we're clear...” She reaches down, pulls out a big red plastic wiffle ball bat, and holds it up. “If you ever hurt her, I know where to find you, and I know how to use this.”
