My heart does a little flip. “Yours, huh? Bold claim, Milo.”
“Very bold,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm against my ear. “And very true.”
We reach the end of the aisle, and the wedding coordinator is already waving us toward the photo area. Milo doesn’t let go of my arm right away. Instead, he turns to face me fully, his free hand brushing a curl behind my ear, fingers lingering on the diamond stud he’d placed there earlier.
“These look even better on you than I imagined,” he says softly, his eyes tracing the necklace resting against my collarbone. “You’re breathtakingly beautiful, Sienna.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “You’re going to make me blush. And Ineverblush.”
“That’s the plan.” His grin turns mischievous. “I like you flushed and a little flustered. It’s a good look on you.”
Before I can fire back, the coordinator calls our names for the group photos. We join the rest of the wedding party—Aria and Ethan in the center—smiling for what feels like a hundred photos. After the group photos, the photographer pulls Aria and the bridesmaids aside, then Ethan and the groomsmen.
Once the last family shots are done, Aria and Ethan slip away hand-in-hand for their private portraits on the beach. The rest of the wedding party starts to scatter until only Milo and I are left.
He doesn’t say anything at first. He just looks at me, a smile tugging at his lips. Then he reaches out, his fingers brushing mine before he gently tugs me toward him. His hands cup my face with a tenderness that makes my breath catch.
Then he leans in and kisses me.
It’s soft at first, almost reverent, like he’s savoring the moment he’s held back from all day. But it quickly deepens. His hand slides into my hair, tilting my head as his mouth moves against mine with growing hunger. I melt into him, fingers curling into the front of his tux as I kiss him back just as passionately.
The world fades until there’s only the heat of his mouth, the solid strength of his body pressed against mine, and the way he tastes like forever.
When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathless. His forehead rests against mine, our noses brushing.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for hours,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice low and rough with desire. “Every time I looked at you in that dress… I could barely think straight.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, my heart hammering so loudly I’m sure he can feel it. “Kiss me again.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. This time, the kiss is deeper and more urgent. One of his hands glides down the small of my back, pulling me flush against him, while the other stays tangled in my curls. I rise onto my toes, pouring everything I feel into the kiss—want, joy, and that terrifying, wonderful hope.
When we break apart again, my lips feel swollen and tingly. Milo’s eyes are darker now, his pupils blown wide, a faint flush spreading across his cheeks.
“God, I’m never going to get enough of you,” he whispers, his thumb brushing along my jaw. “You’re going to ruin me, Sienna Harlow.”
I smile, leaning into his touch to steal one more quick, lingering kiss before we reluctantly head back to the pavilion.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Sienna
The reception iseverything Aria dreamed it would be and more. The sun has dipped low, painting everything in warm golds and pinks, making the whole scene feel like something out of a fairytale.
I’m seated next to Milo, my hand resting on his thigh beneath the tablecloth. His fingers find my knee almost immediately, pressing gently to soothe the restless bounce that always comes when I’m excited or nervous or both. The simple touch grounds me in the best way.
“You’re doing it again,” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear. His thumb draws slow, comforting circles just above my knee.
“Doing what?” I ask innocently.
“Bouncing. It’s like your brain is running three conversations at once and your body can’t decide which to listen to.”
I laugh softly, the sound bubbling up before I can stop it. “It is. One about how beautiful Aria looks, one about how good the food smells, and one about how unfairly handsome you look in that tux.”
His thumb keeps tracing its lazy circles. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”
“Good,” I whisper, leaning a little closer. “Because I plan to cash in later.”
The banter is easy and light, but beneath it lies something deeper that’s hard to put into words. Every time his fingers brush my skin and our eyes meet, it feels like the rest of the world fades just a little. Like we’re in our own quiet bubble, even when surrounded by all this joy.
