Hartley’s eyes sparkle. “I do.”
My breathing quickens.
“Do you, Mira, take Hartley to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, for as long as you both shall live?”
I smile. “I do.”
“May I have the rings?” Pastor Reed asks. Lilly hands them to him. “These rings are outward symbols of the promises you made today.” He hands Hartley a ring. “Please place this ring on Mira’s finger and repeat after me.”
Hartley slides a gold band with a gorgeous emerald-cut diamond set east-west—my favorite—onto my finger, repeating after the pastor. I gasp, my gaze shooting from the sparkler to his face, wishing I could ask him what he’s doing. It’s beautiful and exactly what I would’ve chosen for myself—and entirely too expensive.
Pastor Reed hands me the ring I bought for Hartley. I slide it on his finger. “With this ring, I give you my heart,” I say, repeating the words Hartley said to me. Our eyes lock as he takes both of my hands into his. “You had my heart a long time ago.”
My lips purse together as I try not to cry or scream or melt into a puddle on the floor of the church.
“By the authority vested in me by the state of Tennessee, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
A roar of applause and a few whistles fill the church.
“Hartley, you may kiss your bride,” Pastor Reed says, stepping away from us.
My heart jumps into my throat as my husband cuts the distance between us until our bodies are nearly touching. He cups my cheeks in his hands and tilts my lips toward his. But instead of kissing me, he just grins.
“This is wild,” he says, chuckling so softly that I can barely hear him over the ruckus around us.
“You know what would be even wilder?”
“What’s that?”
I giggle. “If you kissed me.”
“Kiss her already,” someone yells.
He lowers his mouth to mine as I sag into him. My breath hitches as he makes contact, and fireworks burst inside me. I grab his lapels, afraid my knees will give out, as his lips move expertly over mine. It’s a sweet kiss—bringing back memories of much, much dirtier things we’ve done over the years.
I’m on absolute fire when he pulls back, and I have to restrain myself from bringing his lips back to mine. No man has ever kissed me like Hartley Adler. Then again, I haven’t kissed that many men over the years.
I knew they’d never compete, andwho wants to start a relationship already disappointed?
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Pastor Reed shouts. “May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Hartley Adler!”
A round of applause accompanies the loud cheers. I hold up my bouquet as Hartley leads me back down the aisle, catching a glimpse of Astrid grinning as we nearly jog past and duck into the room where I got ready this afternoon.
“What do you think, Mrs. Adler?” Hartley asks, teasing me.
“I think—no,I know—you can kiss better than that.”
He rolls his eyes. “Are you complaining already?”
I giggle. “Yes. We have rules to follow, and aside from a few pecks in public, that was the best I’m gonna get.”
He starts to respond, but stops himself. Something tells me that’s for the best.
The sound of everyone starting to leave grows louder.
“Did you pack a honeymoon bag?” Hartley asks.
“Yeah. It’s over there. I just need to toss a few things back in it, and I’m ready to roll.”
