Page 24 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Biker

Relief washed over her face. "Good. Because I need you to fix my veil. It's sitting weird."

I laughed and stood. "That's what I'm here for."

The ceremony took place under an arbor wrapped in white tulle and climbing roses.

I stood at the front next to the other bridesmaids, my bouquet clutched in both hands. James stood across from me in his black tux, his expression neutral.

He didn't matter. Not his presence. Not his opinions. Not his quiet criticisms disguised as concern.

The officiant started to speak, and I let my gaze drift to the guests.

Grim sat three rows back, his suit jacket unbuttoned, his arms crossed loosely. When our eyes met, something steady passed between us. No words. Just the weight of last night and this morning and whatever might come next.

My shoulders relaxed.

Lyra walked down the aisle on her father's arm, and I stopped thinking about James entirely.

The next two hours passed in a blur. Vows, kiss, recessional. Bridal party photos on the lawn. Family photos under the arbor. The extended group shot the photographer had to coax three uncles into standing still for.

James stood at my elbow through all of it, close enough that I could smell his pretentious cologne, and I felt nothing. Every time I looked up, Grim was nearby, waiting.

The reception sprawled across Willow Bend Ranch's back lawn. String lights crisscrossed overhead, tables scattered beneath them with wildflower centerpieces and flickering candles. A live band played near the dance floor, and laughter mixed with the clinking of glasses.

I'd survived the photos. The toasts. The required smiles beside James as maid of honor and best man.

Now I just wanted Grim. He stood near the bar, one hand in his pocket, watching the crowd with that quiet intensity he wore like armor. When he saw me heading his way, his expression softened.

"You looked good up there," he said.

"You looked comfortable in the back."

"I don't do crowds."

"But you came anyway."

"Yeah." His hand found the small of my back. "I did."

The band shifted into something slower. Couples drifted onto the dance floor, swaying underneath the lights.

"Dance with me," I said.

He didn't hesitate. Just took my hand and led me out.

This time, there was no pretending. No performance for James or anyone else. Just Grim's hand on my waist, my palm against his chest, and the easy rhythm of the two of us moving together.

"Thank you.” I reached up and adjusted his tie.

“For what?"

"For showing up. For staying."

His thumb brushed the base of my spine. "I'm not going anywhere."

I believed him.

With James, I'd spent years trying to make myself smaller. I'd second-guessed every choice, every outfit, every word, because nothing I did felt right unless he approved.

But standing with Grim… taking in his rough edges and gruff honesty and the way he looked at me like I made sense exactly as I was... I felt more like myself than I had in years.