She moans in response, her teeth clamping down on my bottom lip.
I tug at her dress before I realize what I’m doing, groaning when I can’t unbutton it. “Why the fuck is it so hard to get you out of this?”
“Because you want me so bad you won’t be patient with the buttons,” she replies with a giggle, reaching back and unbuttoning the dress herself.
She’s right, and all the words I may have had in response escape from my mouth as soon as I discover she didn’t have a bra on. And now the woman of all my fantasies since I was fifteen years old is lying in our bed, bare breasts pointing up toward me, her nipples hardening under my stare.
“Fuck, Sunshine.” I wipe my hands down my face, heart beating wildly in my chest. “Look at you.”
Her eyes fixate on my chest. Her gaze roams my pecks then to each row of my abs. When she reaches the V that leads to below my suit pants, her bottom lip disappears between her teeth. For a long moment, her eyes stay there before looking back up at me beneath her long lashes.
She’s a goddamn vision.
“Open your legs, Kenna.”
She smiles as if she is up to something before responding. “I will when I’m ready.”
I smirk, eliminating the space between us. I stand up, giving myself a moment to take in her perfection before lowering myself to her breast and sucking her nipple into my mouth.
I’m not gentle. Not soft.
I watch her lips part, but no sound comes out. A silent scream that I take as a yes. So I kiss her once hard before moving to her neck and the sweet curve of it, breathing in the scent of her. I am so utterly obsessed with her.
“My pretty little wife,” I mutter, pulling her hips closer. “I love you so much Sunshine.”
“I love you too, Cap.”
After we celebrate our marriage, just the two of us in our home, surrounded by flickering candlelight, shared glances, and quiet laughter, a stillness settles between us. It’s warm and full, the quiet that doesn’t need words. Everything that needed to be said has already been spoken in our vows, in our touches, and in the silence between each breath.
Kenna and I drive to her parents’ house, hand in hand. Beneath us, the road hums. The sun shines gold, painting her skin in a light I want to preserve. Everything feels different now, as if a profound change has occurred, not just a passing of time, but a shift in reality. The trees seem greener. The sky is impossibly blue. Even the wind feels like it’s whispering something sacred.
Everything is suddenly brighter, lighter. It’s like the weight of the day, the weight of everything leading up to this moment, has vanished.
I glance over at Kenna and see her watching me out of the corner of her eye, her expression half-curious, half-awestruck, like she’s studying something precious that doesn’t quite feel real yet.
Kenna keeps sneaking glances at me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, like she’s still trying to absorb the magnitude of what we’ve just done. I squeeze her hand tighter, taking in the peace in her expression.
“We really did it,” Kenna murmurs, almost as if she’s saying itto herself. Her voice is soft, reverent. Like speaking louder might shatter the spell.
I nod, my voice thick with emotion. “We did, baby. And you’re stuck with me now.”
She laughs, a soft, musical sound that makes my heart feel lighter. “I think I can manage that.”
I love the way she says it with no hesitation, no teasing. Just certainty. Quiet, unshakeable certainty. It makes something inside me settle. Like an anchor has dropped deep inside my chest.
When we pull up at her parents’ house, I can already hear the noise. The voices, the laughter, and the faint hum of music coming from inside. The warm, familiar sound of family. It’s chaotic in the best way, the chaos I’ve always dreamed of being a part of.
The kind that feels like home. Even though it’s not the house I grew up in, it’s the house where I finally feel like I truly belong.
Kenna looks over at me, the tiniest hint of nervousness in her eyes. “You ready?”
I catch the way she bites the corner of her lip—not out of fear, but out of hope. There’s a vulnerability in her gaze. Like she’s still asking, even after the ceremony, ‘Are you sure you want all of this?’ Not just her. But the life that comes with her. The past. The future. The messy middle.
I grin, squeezing her hand one more time. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We step out of the car together, and before we even reach the door, Cohen’s voice cuts through the air. “Mom! Dad!”
I look up just in time to see him running full force toward us, his little legs pumping, a huge grin plastered on his face. His excitement is contagious, and I can’t stop myself from grinning right back at him.
