20. Kane
Chapter 20
Kane
T he ceremony is perfect.
I never thought much about weddings before today. I mean, yeah, I’ve been to them, stood up for friends, watched them tie the knot, but it never really hit me—not like this.
Not like watching Grace walk down the aisle beside me, her arm tucked in mine, her body warm against my side.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
The bridesmaid dress clings to her curves in all the right ways, the flowing fabric shifting with each step like the ocean breeze on a summer night. Her hair is curled, cascading over her shoulder, and when she tilts her head, the sun catches in her eyes, making them gleam.
She’s smiling. A real, relaxed, completely at-ease smile.
And fuck if it doesn’t wreck me.
I tighten my hold on her just a little, savoring the way she feels against me. She glances up at me, lips twitching in amusement. “You’re staring,” she whispers.
I lean in, dropping my voice low. “Damn right, I am.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s no real annoyance there. If anything, her fingers curl just a little tighter against my forearm, like she likes the way I’m looking at her.
We take our places at the front of the altar, watching Kate and Hudson exchange their vows. The ocean stretches behind them, the soft crash of waves blending with the reverent hush of the guests. It’s a perfect setting for a perfect moment, and yet, my brain won’t stop fucking running.
I try to focus on the ceremony, on Kate’s tearful smile, on Hudson’s steady, unwavering gaze as he pledges himself to her, but the whole time, my mind is wrapped around one thing. One person.
Grace.
I steal a glance at her, watching as she blinks back the sheen of emotion in her eyes. She’s standing so still, hands clasped on the bouquet, back straight. But I know her, and I know that mind of hers is running, just like mine.
Does she see it, too? Can she picture what it would be like if this were us standing up here, making promises we can’t take back? Because I can. I see it so fucking clearly that it steals my breath.
I imagine her in white, walking toward me instead of beside me. Her hands in mine. Her voice, shaky but strong, as she vows forever.
For the first time, I let myself really think about it. About what it would mean to be with her—not just for now, not just while we navigate this baby, but for good. For always.
The thought is like a fire, burning through me, igniting something deep in my chest that I can’t put out.
Grace shifts, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and I swear, my fucking heart stumbles.
She has no idea, does she? No idea how damn gone I am for her.
The crowd erupts into applause as Kate and Hudson share their first kiss as husband and wife, and I force myself to drag my eyes away from Grace. Now isn’t the time.
But soon. Soon, I’ll tell her. Soon, she’ll know.
The reception is already in full swing when I take a moment to step away from the dance floor. I need air. Space. A chance to get my damn head on straight before I do something stupid like pull Grace into a dark corner and demand to know what she sees when she looks at me.
Chance is already at the bar, nursing a whiskey, his eyes scanning the crowd like he’s looking for a problem to solve. Or a fire to put out.
Captain Morgan is beside him, his ever-present scowl firmly in place, though there’s a hint of something softer in his eyes tonight. Nostalgia, maybe. The guy’s been on the job longer than I’ve been alive, and with his retirement looming, I know he’s taking every case personally.
I clap a hand on his shoulder as I approach. “Boss.”
Morgan grunts. “About time you made an appearance, Kane.”
Chance smirks into his glass. “He was busy drooling over Grace.”
I ignore him. “Any updates on the case?”
Morgan sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Nothing. The arsonist’s gone quiet.”
“Too quiet,” Chance adds.
I nod, my jaw tightening. It’s been weeks since the last fire—the one that nearly took Grace from me. Since then, we’ve been chasing ghosts, following leads that go nowhere, searching for a threat that seems to have vanished. It’s unsettling as hell.
Morgan takes a sip of his drink, eyes narrowed. “I don’t like it. Either they’re laying low, or they’re planning something bigger.”
My stomach clenches at the thought.
Grace is pregnant. The idea of anything—anyone—threatening her and the baby?
Yeah. Not fucking happening. “We’ll find him,” I promise, my voice like steel.
Morgan studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Damn right we will. I don’t plan on leaving the department with unfinished business.”
I clench my fist at my side. We’ll catch this bastard. I swear it but tonight isn’t about that. Tonight is about celebrating Kate and Hudson. And about Grace and me.
So I push away the thoughts of fire and danger, grab a fresh beer from the bar, and turn back toward the dance floor where Grace is dancing.
I don’t waste time. I find her in the crowd, already halfway through a dance with Hudson, and when the song ends, I step in before anyone else can claim her.
Her brows lift as I take her hand. “You planning on monopolizing all my dances tonight?”
I pull her in, sliding one hand around her waist, resting the other against her lower back. “Absolutely.”
She huffs, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she lets me lead her across the floor, our steps falling into perfect sync.
“I think you just like having an excuse to put your hands on me,” she muses.
I grin. “I don’t need an excuse, Gracie.”
Her breath catches—just a little—but I feel it.
She tilts her head, studying me. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”
I arch a brow. “Define weird.”
She purses her lips. “You keep staring at me.”
I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. “That’s because you’re the most beautiful thing in this room.”
Her fingers tighten against my shoulder. “You’re laying it on thick.”
I chuckle, tightening my grip on her waist. “Is it working?”
She swallows, and I watch the flutter of her pulse at her throat. She wants to play it cool, pretend like my words don’t affect her, but I know better. I’ve always known.
“You’re impossible,” she mutters.
I grin, dipping my head lower. “And yet, here you are, letting me hold you.”
She exhales sharply. “Because you keep stealing all my dances.”
“That’s not true,” I murmur, guiding her into a slow turn. “I let Hudson have one.”
Grace rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, and damn, it makes my whole world tilt.
I let my gaze drop, let myself really look at her. She’s glowing—not just from the lights or the warmth of the room, but from something deeper. Something I don’t think she even realizes is there.
She’s letting me in. Slowly. Hesitantly. But she is. And fuck if it doesn’t feel like everything I’ve ever wanted.
The song slows, and I pull her just a little closer, pressing my forehead to hers. “Dance with me all night,” I murmur.
She hesitates. “Kane…”
I pull back just enough to meet her gaze. “No games, Gracie. Just this. Just us.”
She searches my face, looking for something—doubt, hesitation, an escape route, but she won’t find it.
Finally, she exhales and nods, and just like that, we keep moving, swaying to a song neither of us are really listening to.
Because this moment? This moment right here?
It’s ours.
And I’ll be damned if I let it slip away.