Ace is bouncing beside me. “Dad, now.”
Feeling like a fool, I drop to one knee and take her hand, sliding an engagement ring that both Ace and I had picked out onto her finger. I suppose I’d been thinking she’d be so enamoured by the cluster of diamonds sparkling in the sun, she wouldn’t dream of refusing me and embarrassing me in front of my brothers. It’s not ostentatious, and Ace agreed with my choice.
For a moment, she simply stares at it, her mouth open, her fingers, now freed from my arm, tracing her new jewellery. Her eyes then go to where Words is waiting at the end of the aisle.
The pause before she speaks seems to take too long. Just as I’m about to get worried, the side of her lips curves up, and she looks up through her eyelashes. She smirks. “I thought you were supposed to ask.”
I shrug. “Thought we’d already gotten that out of the way.”
Her dazzling smile gives me my answer without her having to use words. Then she gestures toward the man waiting under the arch. “We haven’t got a licence.”
“Who the fuck cares about civilian ways?” Getting back to my feet, I place my hand against her cheek. “I want to be married to you today, here, while our friends are all present. Then, on Monday, we can go to the clerk’s office and get all the formalities sorted out to make it legal. But fuck, Trix, making you mine is all that matters to me.”
I suppose you’re not supposed to kiss the bride until the officiant has given permission, but I’m a King, fuck the rules. When Trixie reaches for me, I can’t resist. Our mouths meld in that already familiar dance. It has that predictable effect on me, and I’m tempted to say, fuck the wedding, and take her somewhere we can preempt our wedding nuptials.
“Da..ad,” Ace puts one hand on me, one hand on her, and tries to separate us, even while the laughter and rowdy shouts of encouragement sound from all around.
Chuckling, we move apart. Then, as my son urges us on down the aisle, I’m walking my bride to our unconventional wedding ceremony with a hard-on I’m certain is visible from space. She’s limping because of her ankle, my gait is awkward, because, well, I’m sure most of the men will understand.
Ace is my best man. He steps up beside me, a serious expression on his face as he taps his pocket, checking the rings are still there.
I’m yet to let go of my bride’s hand. Words glares and gestures that we should step apart.
When a little over a foot is put between us, he transitions into the officiant’s role, beginning by clearing his throat.
“Dearly beloved. It’s with heavy hearts that we are gathered here today. I’d like to thank you all for coming to honour the deceased…”
“What the actual fuck?” I bark.
“Hey, you want me to take over?” The unmistakable voice of Smooth sounds over the laughter.
Risking a glance at Trixie, I find her doubled over with mirth. As she wipes tears from her eyes, I hiss, “You want Smooth to marry us instead?”
Hardly able to speak, she waves her hand toward Words. “I kinda want to know where he’s going with this.”
And Words, the cocky asshole, just grins at her.
This is Trixie’s wedding day. Ace and I wanted to make it special. Something to remember. And he’s fucked it up. I start to tense, ready to shout at him, that he better stick to the proper script from now on, when I look down again at Trixie, and see, not a woman whose wedding is being fucked up, but someone who’s genuinely happy. Yeah, our wedding will probably be something that sticks in our memory, just not in the way I’d intended.
Still not quite certain whether it’s the right decision, I heave a sigh, then gesture to Words to continue.
Again, he coughs as if to remove a frog from his throat. “We’re gathered here today to remember the lives of our brother, Freak, and his ol’ lady Trixie.”
I glare at him, but it has no effect.
“Brother Freak, enforcer for the Kings of Anarchy MC Arizona, will be sorely missed. Absent from propping up the bar in the clubhouse, he’s gone to a better place, a life of marital bliss. And Trixie, our dear departed sister, will no longer…”
“Don’t you dare fuckin’ say it, Words,” I rasp in the most threatening enforcer tone I can. I don’t want today to be a reminder of what she’s been to the club.
He glares at me, then continues, “Our dear departed sister will no longer be in sight – as Freak will be monopolising her – but her presence will live on in our memories.”
“He’ll be fuckin’ her,” someone, I think it’s one of the out-of-town brothers, calls out.
“Will you all join me by bowing your heads in the remembrance of the death of Freak’s freedom, and the obvious loss of Trixie’s mind that she’s willingly chosen to take that ride with him?”
There’s a roar of laughter, my son’s voice included.
Words waits for it to die down. Then he shrugs. “Levi Moore, do you take this angel Trixie to be your ride or die wife?”
