Mateo
Thirty minutes later, Mat waited for Imogen to walk down the aisle. A sea of people he didn’t know filled the chairs fanned out like a stadium in front of him. Fairy lights winked across the gathering, where they hung from poles decorated with blooming bouquets of white and orange flowers. More lights and flowers marked the aisle Imogen would walk down. A white cloth covered her path while grass squished under his feet as he shifted his weight. The priest who would marry them stood to Mat’s right. On his left, Emiliano fidgeted with his watch.
“How long does it take to put on a dress?” Imogen’s brother muttered.
Mat shook his head with a smile, even if he shared the sentiment. Emiliano had always been impatient. Where Imogen had the patience of a saint, Emil was constantly on the move. Whatever restless energy thrummed inside him, Mat doubted his previous drug use helped it any. Not that the younger man was still using.
He’d gotten clean and vowed to stay as far away from the cartels as possible after his recent run-in. Mat might be an officer of the law, but he’d appreciated not having to decide whether to bust his fiancé’s brother for drugs or not. Emiliano’s dedication, even if some of it stemmed from fear, made Mat proud. It was a weight off Imogen’s shoulders, too, no longer having to worry about her brother doing something illegal.
“I feel like a fish in an aquarium. Why’d we have to stand up here so soon if Imogen wasn’t ready?”
Mat didn’t love being on display either, but the end result was worth being stared at. “One of life’s mysteries, brother.” He nudged Emiliano with his elbow. “Just gotta roll with it.”
At Emil’s grumble, Mat breathed deep and lifted his eyes to the evening sky, praying she would hurry. Above his head, an arch of flowers perfumed the air. No matter how fragrant they were, they didn’t smell as good as Imogen. Seeing her, breathing her in, and not being able to touch her had been torture. He’d understood why she’d wanted to see him, though. The worry she carried.
The last six months had been a healing process for them both. Him from his physical wounds and her from the scars of their past. She’d forgiven him, but neither of them would forget. It was a daily reminder to make the time they had together count.
He tugged at the sleeves of his white dress shirt when they tried to ride up because he kept moving, unsure what to do with his hands. The past few months had been a series of ups and downs, but she’d stuck with him through it all. It was why he wasn’t worried she wouldn’t show up to the altar, but he did worry how much longer it would take. After nearly six years, he’d had enough of waiting to make Imogen his wife.
The time it had taken him to heal had flown by. Everyone and their brother had wanted a word, a moment, a piece of the Texas Ranger who single-handedly took down the Lazcano Cartel.
Not that he had. That’s what all the press said, though. Mat knew he hadn’t done anything alone, and the reason he’d been successful at any of it was about to walk down the aisle to him.
All that fuss had made him the shiny new penny her parents loved to show off. Eventually, the metal would dull, but he didn’t care. As long as he had Imogen at the end of it, none of it mattered.
Mat hadn’t expected to receive her father’s approval so readily, but he suspected Senor Sanchez’s change of heart had something to do with the governor’s situation. The whole of Ranger Company “B” had come into an endowment, a generous thank you from the governor for ‘keeping Texas safe.’ As expected, his son never made the news nor faced charges for being the Lazcano’s chemist. But Mat was willing to let that be a problem for headquarters. He would pick and choose his battles, and right now, he figured he’d earned some serious “R&R.” Not to mention, he was about to have a honeymoon to enjoy.
The music that signaled Imogen’s entrance started, drifting out of the speakers set at each corner of the gathering.
“Finally,” Emiliano breathed.
A grin lit Mat’s face. The important thing was they’d stopped the Lazcano Cartel from operating in North Texas, and El Jaguar had been convicted. He’d be serving time for assault with intent to murder an officer of the law with no chance of getting out any time soon. That fact helped Mat sleep at night. Well, that and having Imogen in his arms.
They were together despite who her family was and the world they lived in. Thinking about it brought back another of their conversations over why he’d left all those years ago. She’d told him she’d fallen in love with him back then because he didn’t fit in that world. Because she’d never really fit in either. She’d been pretending her whole life until she met him.
When I’m with you, I don’t have to pretend.
Her words still staggered him. He’d known she was more herself with him but hearing her verbalize it had washed away the last of his fears on the subject. He was enough. And together, they were more than enough.
Imogen appeared at the end of the aisle, and Mat’s breath stuttered in his chest. She looked amazing in her dress, but the thing he found the most alluring was her smile. It lit her whole face, making her shine brighter than the jewels sewn onto her skirt.
Their eyes locked, and his next fifty years played out in her gaze. This might not be how they would’ve chosen to get married, but what mattered were the vows they were about to take.
Emotion clogged his throat, watching Imogen glide down the aisle on her father’s arm. Then and there, Mat promised to love and cherish her, for better or worse, for all the days of their life.
When her father placed her hand in his, everyone else ceased to exist for Mat. The hundreds of eyes staring at them faded away until it was only Imogen. She’d saved him before he’d known he needed it. Made him whole before he’d known he was broken. She was his everything. The light in his world. The love in his heart. It beat because of her.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The priest’s words woke Mat up. With a grin, he pulled Imogen in and kissed her like no one was watching.
My wife.
Imogen was his wife—his family—and he couldn’t ask for anything more.