This Woman Forever

Chapter 4

I don’t know how many times I’ve circled my office this morning. I left our suite at one minute to midnight when Elizabeth practically dragged me out. I made sure she knew I wasn’t happy. Joseph told me to humor her. I asked Joseph how he lives with her. He laughed.

As anticipated, I didn’t sleep at all, and I can really feel it. I couldn’t even go to her at dawn and get my fix. She’s mere meters away, upstairs in our suite getting ready to marry me, but it’s been more than ten hours since I’ve seen her. Touched her. Fuck me, this is torture. I’m trying so hard to be respectful of her parents’ traditional beliefs. And struggling. I’m tense, agitated, and even I know it’s all very unreasonable.

We made it.

But still not communicating as well as we should.

My head falls back, and I look up at the ceiling, trying to find some calming thoughts. It’s not working. I have serious issues.

Glancing down, I begrudgingly note it’s only five minutes since I last checked the time. “For fuck’s sake.” I pull at my hair, like I’m trying to yank some reason into my stressed-out mind. What if Elizabeth’s talked Ava out of marrying me? What if she’s pointed out my age or the short time that we’ve known each other?

I snort.

Become very still.

What if Ava’s confessed my pill-stealing sins to her mother and Elizabeth’s talked some sense into her?

“Fucking hell.” I pick up my pace and make another circuit of my office. I’m going to make myself fucking dizzy.

Too late, bro.

“Oh, you’re here.”

Always.

I raise my brows to myself, thinking. “I don’t suppose you’ve been upstairs?—”

And spied on your young bride?

“Fuck off.”

You wish.

A knock at the door makes me jump. “What?” I bark, collapsing back in my chair, my arse hitting the seat hard. Then my forehead hits the desk.

Again and again and again.

“Stupid motherfucker.” John laughs, pulling my face up. He shuts the door and strides over to my desk, amusement plaguing his face as he scans my T-shirt-clad torso. “Been running?”

“Might have.” At five when I got the first glimpse of dawn.

“Nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” I scoff, picking up a pen and twiddling it between my fingers in a very nervous way. Not nervous for the reasons John thinks, anyway. “I’m impatient.”

John smiles, a rare, all-white, piss-taking smile. “What’s eating you?”

“Nothing’s fucking eating me.”

He starts laughing hard. It’s a deep, rumbling, house-shaking sound, something even rarer than the smiles. I’m a fucking joke. “Jesse, get a grip. How many hours’ sleep have you had? You look like shit.”

“I feel it,” I grumble, chucking the pen across the desk and swiping my palms over my scratchy face. “I didn’t sleep.”

“At all?”

I reveal my face to John and he starts nodding thoughtfully. “I would’ve slept just fine, had I not been dragged away from my wife by her delightful mother.” I lean back in my chair and toss my feet onto my desk, closing my eyes and dragging air into my lungs. My damn heart is clattering, threatening to beat its way from my heaving chest. “Fucking pain in the arse.”

“She’s her mother. As much as I know you’d like to, you can’t keep your girl from her mother.”

“I know,” I say, and doesn’t that suck. I wish I could make everyone disappear, taking Ava away from anything that interferes with our private world of happiness and constant contact. I might just do that. Paradise springs to mind, but I quickly disregard it given the potential of what might find me there. “What time is it?”

“Just gone ten,” John says, as his phone starts shouting from his inside pocket. He pulls it out as he stands and answers with a grunt on his way to the door. “On my way.”

“Who?”

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

I’m not comforted. “You checked up on Sarah?”

He stops and turns questioning eyes onto me. “She’s not taking my calls.”

I nod, damning myself for caring. She’s done nothing but cause me pain and misery. And yet. That’s what fucks with my head. Why do I care? And. Yet. Sarah has been a constant in my life for years, so to suddenly become invisible is... weird. But it was the right decision.For me. For Ava. Even for Sarah.

Enough, Ward. It’s your wedding day. Stay focused.

I pull my laptop over when it dings and see a message from the dealership. I reply, telling them to have Ava’s wedding present delivered to Lusso. “What time is it?” I ask again, despite having my own watch on. And a laptop in front of me.

“Just gone ten.”

I sigh, pushing my laptop away and brushing a hand down my face.

“Bit different to last time, eh?”

I look at John. He was there but not invited. Hovering on the edge of the church grounds with Uncle Carmichael watching as I went through the motions, my moves robotic, my words emotionless, my body soulless.

My heart beats faster and has me rising to my feet, more agitated than ever before. “You mean because I actually want to marry this woman?” I ask as I make my way toward the door, deciding another run is my only option with Elizabeth keeping guard of Ava. I march past John and jog down the corridor.

“Calm down,” John calls. His tone has taken on an edge of concern.

“I’m fine.” I break out into a full sprint before I reach the entrance to The Manor and resist the urge to glance up the stairs as I do. I hear the shout of our wedding planner calling after me, but I keep up my pace, my legs going like pistons as I hit the gravel driveway.

Run.

Just... run.

The sun is warm on my face, the countryside air fresh, but my damn mind is still racing, and now it’s also flooded with painful reminders of my past. Carmichael. Drink. Lauren... A beautiful little blond-haired girl.

Why haven’t you told her about me, Daddy?

I skid to a stop in front of a tree, breathless—and not because of the run. “It’s hurts,” I say to thin air and the rustling trees.

And you’re scared she’ll think you won’t be a good dad?

I take in air, my lungs burning. And that.

I pull back my fist in temper. “Fuck,” I roar, just managing to refrain from burying my hand in the trunk of the tree. My forehead meets the bark instead, the backs of my eyes pricking with old tears.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

You can never have happiness. You don’t deserve happiness.

“No, no, no,” I whisper, turning on the spot, taking in the grounds surrounding me. Beautiful grounds. Miles of perfect greenery. The Manor, majestic and handsome, the hub of pleasure for hundreds.

And the beginning of my end.

I rest back against the tree, needing the support, and close my eyes, trying to chase away the memories.

“Maybe ease off on the alcohol, Jesse,” Uncle Carmichael says. “There’s no fun to be had when you wake up the next morning and can’t remember a damn thing.” He rubs my shoulder as I rub my sore head. “Appreciate what it can offer but respect it. It would be all too easy to succumb to the addiction of sex and alcohol.”

Fuck.

I sprint off, passing many cars driving up to The Manor, some staff who crane their necks as I run in the opposite direction, not even acknowledging them with a raised hand or nod. I’m focused firmly forward, chasing away unwanted thoughts, my legs carrying me so fast I can’t feel them. I zigzag from one side of the driveway to the other, trying to lengthen the journey that will take me to the gates, the gravel crushing harshly under my pounding feet.

A car horn starts a chorus of short and long honks in the distance, and I force my eyes up to see Sam’s Porsche headed toward me. I don’t slow down, but he does, until he comes to a stop in front of me.

“My man.” He whacks his car into reverse and slams his foot on the accelerator to flank me. “Doing a runner?” he asks, flicking his eyes between me and the rearview mirror.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” I pant, maintaining my speed. I’m trying to chase away the remaining demons. “Ava’s being guarded so I’m having to find other means of distraction from?—”

“Your nerves?”

“I’m not fucking nervous.” I should just go into full-blown trample all over Elizabeth’s prim arse. I thought I could do this, to pacify Ava and her need to pacify her mother. But, fuck me, I feel like my heart is ready to explode. Or stop. “Kate’s here,” I say, taking my eye off the road for the first time to look at Sam. I’m glad I did. I definitely detected a fleeting wave of caution. “Everything all right?”

“Not really,” he admits for the first time, my cheeky mate’s constant smile nowhere in sight. “She’s here but not here.”

“Have you asked her what’s up?” I feel like shit. Guilty. I know exactly what’s up, and I feel like I should tell him.

“Nope,” he says, blowing out his cheeks.

“Why?” Because he’s afraid of what she might say?

“She’s a woman. Who the fuck knows what goes on in their heads.”

I laugh through my fitful breaths. “Talk to her.”

“Maybe. Catch you later.” He slams on his brakes, kicking up a cloud of dust, before screeching off toward The Manor.

I reach the end of the driveway and take a hard right, intending on completing three full laps of the grounds—anything to kill some fucking time. I pull off my T-shirt and toss it to the ground carelessly. Maybe I’ll sleep for the final hour of this torturous wait.

I glance down at my watch. I’m in a fucking time warp.

Abstain. Abstain. Abstain.

I can’t.

I’ve tried. I’ve tried so fucking hard.

I need to see her.

All I can hear is Elizabeth’s ear-piercing voice in my head trying to convince Ava to wait a while before committing to me. It’s driving me fucking insane.

I pelt up the steps to the entrance, nearly knocking Mario from his feet as I barge through the doors. “Mamma mia!”He staggers back, shouting obscenities in both Italian and English as I take the stairs three at a time.

“Sorry,” I call, flying around the gallery landing until I land at the door to our suite.

I go to grab the handle, but quickly consider the response I’ll receive from her mother if I burst in. I need to play my cards right. So I tap as gently as I can, which isn’t very gently at all.

“Just a minute,” Elizabeth calls. I sag slightly with the confirmation of her presence, just as the door swings open and her eyes immediately bulge. And then she shrieks, making me stagger back a little.

“Fucking hell, Elizabeth.” I cover my ears as she yells some panicked words, then slams the door in my face.

My arms drop, and so does my jaw. “What the fuck?” I take the handle and push all my weight against it, knowing she’ll be shoved up against the other side to hinder my attempts to gain entry.

“Open the door, Elizabeth,” I call through the wood, giving her a fair warning, so that if I force entry, it’s entirely her fault if she lands on her arse.

“Jesse, you and I are going to fall out if you don’t do as you’re told.”

Oh please. “We won’t fall out, Mum,” I say, not helping my cause. But still. She’s impossible. “...if you let me in.” I smile, picturing her sour face. She’s really quite wonderful, but she’d be even more wonderful if she lost the incessant need to interfere and block me from her daughter.

“Jesse Ward, you do not get to call me mum when I’m only nine years older than you,” she huffs, telling me she clearly thinks my age is an issue. It makes me nudge against the door harder. “Now go. You’ll be seeing her in half an hour.”

“Ava,” I yell. If she hears I’m here, she won’t be able to resist seeing me. I just know it. Fuck tradition.

“Jesse, no!” Elizabeth yells, her strength quite surprising as she keeps me at bay. “Oh no, it’s bad luck. Have you no respect for tradition, you stubborn man?”

“Let me in, Elizabeth.”

“No,” she retorts, short and sharp. If there was any question as to where my beautiful girl’s stubbornness comes from, then I’d wonder no more. “He is not... oh!... Jesse Ward!”

I’m firm but careful as I overcome her hold of the door and push into the suite, immediately scanning the space and finding Ava. The world stops turning for a moment as I drink her in, like I’m looking at her for the first time all over again.

“Well,” Elizabeth huffs. “Ava, tell him to leave.”

Ava’s eyes meet mine, and a silent understanding passes between us. She knows what I need. “It’s fine, Mum. Just give us five minutes.”

I smile on the inside, trying to keep hold of the last piece of respect I have for Elizabeth, which is currently stopping me from ravaging Ava.

Kate moves in. “Come on, Elizabeth. Just a few minutes won’t hurt.”

“It’s tradition.” She’s squawking again as she’s guided past me, her eyes catching sight of the mark on my pec. “What’s that bruise on his chest?”

My shoulders relax as I hear the door close, but I’m too busy losing myself in Ava’s dark eyes to check if we’re really alone. Her gaze drifts all over my sweaty body, almost as if she’s reminding herself of every plane, muscle, and ripple, before her stare meets mine again. I have a far better reminder in mind.

“I don’t want to take my eyes away from your face,” I whisper, my cock starting to pulse relentlessly, imagining the lace I know I’ll see if I cast my gaze downward. Fuck me, confirmation is likely to make my shorts blow off.

“No?”

“There’ll be lace if I do, won’t there?”

She nods.

“White lace?”

“Ivory.”

Oh Jesus, fucking Christ. “And you’re taller, so you’ve got heels on.”

She still says nothing, just confirming with subtle nods.

I try my damn hardest, reminding myself that we’re getting married in a matter of minutes, and she’s all beautified and stunning. But I can’t hold back anymore and...

Fuck... ing... hell.

I take a deep breath, allowing my eyes to fall down her body. Lace. Lots and lots of lace.

“You just trampled my mother.” I can hear pure, raw lust in her voice, and she surprises me when she starts toward me, getting right up close, despite my sweaty chest in close proximity of her flawless lace.

“She was in my way.” I speak down to her, watching as her brown eyes home in on my lips.

“This is bad luck. You’re not supposed to see me before our wedding.”

“Stop me.” I can’t help myself, not when she’s this close, not ever. I rest my mouth on hers, keeping my body away from any other contact. Otherwise, it’ll be game over. “I’ve missed you.” Pined for you. Lost my mind over you. Standard.

“It’s been twelve hours.”

“Too long.” I lazily lick her lips, loving her moan and her hands flying up to my biceps, but hating the taste of lingering alcohol. “You’ve had a drink.”

“Just a sip.” She doesn’t lie, which surprises me. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You can’t look like this and say things like that, Ava.” I push for a full-on kiss, knowing she won’t deny me. And she doesn’t. Our tongues meet and fall into a perfect rhythm of rolling, retreating, and pecking, each one of us making our satisfaction known with continuous moans and whimpers.

“Jesse, we’re going to be late for our wedding.”

“Don’t tell me to stop kissing you, Ava.” I nibble my way across her bottom lip and tug gently. “Never tell me to stop kissing you.” I fall to my knees, taking Ava with me, and spend some quiet time just feeling her, wondering how the fucking hell a screwed-up twat like me could be blessed with such a wonderful woman. I’m so incredibly happy, but terrified at the same time. There’s still so much for her to know, and I’m a fool to think that getting her down the aisle at lightning speed will eradicate her need to be cognizant with my past.

My eyes pass slowly across her flat stomach, but she doesn’t notice this time. She knows I’ve stolen her pills, that I’ve been underhanded and deceitful ... and she’s still here. That has to stand for something, doesn’t it? Then why the fucking hell won’t she talk about it? And what will I say when she finally plucks up the courage to face it head-on? How will I explain? I hardly know what the hell I’m doing from one minute to the next. And sometimes... it just happens, no thoughts, no reasoning. Just instinct. Will she understand?

I find her eyes and cry on the inside for the woman I’ve fallen so deeply in love with and, again, I wonder how she can feel so intensely for me too. I’m past grateful, but still perplexed by it. “Are you ready to do this?” I ask.

Her beautiful brow furrows completely. “Are you asking me if I still want to marry you?”

“No, you don’t get a choice. I’m just asking if you’re ready.”

“And what if I say no?” She’s playing with me, her small smile confirming it.

“You won’t.”

“Then why ask?”

My shoulders jump. “You’re nervous. I don’t want you to be nervous.” That’s a ridiculous request after my morning zooming around The Manor’s grounds.

“Jesse, I’m nervous because of where I’m getting married.”

My contentment at having contact diminishes at the reminder of her reservations. I’ve gone to the end of the earth to ensure The Manor is watertight. I’ve banished members. Compensated them for the inconvenience of our upcoming nuptials. She knows all of this. Not even a fucking rhino is getting in the communal room. But Elizabeth could. “Ava, everything has been taken care of. I said not to worry, so you shouldn’t. End of story.”

“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.” She sounds defeated, doubtful, her head dropping and breaking our eye contact.

Her words and actions sting. I want her to have faith in me, never doubt me, which is an absurd wish, given my actions and behavior since I found her. I quickly direct her face to mine again, desperate to see her, and desperate for her to see me. To see how much I love her. It’s my only weapon.

“Hey. Stop it now,” I order softly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ava, baby, I want you to cherish today, not get your knickers in a twist over something that’s never going to happen. It’s never going to happen. They’ll never know, I promise.”

I can see my words have had the desired effect because she visibly eases up, looking slightly guilty, which makes me feel like total shit. She has nothing to feel guilty about. I know how crazy this whole situation is. “Okay,” she says assertively, trustingly.

I’ve done nothing to deserve that trust.

Leaving her on the floor, I go to the chest of drawers and find a towel before going back to kneel in front of her. I soak up some of the perspiration from my face and hair with a quick swipe, then lay the towel across my sweaty chest.

“Come here.” I hold my arms open and love her lack of hesitance as she climbs into my chest and settles on my lap. “Better?” I squeeze her tight, my body relaxing with her.

“Much better. I love you, My Lord.”

I laugh, happiness sailing through my tired body, bringing it back to life. “I thought I was your god.”

“You’re that too.”

Everything. I’m everything to her. So I need to stop doubting myself. “And you are my temptress. Or you could be my Lady of The Manor.”

She’s quickly pushing herself away from me, outraged. “I am not being the Lady of the Sex Manor.”

Or... this manor. I chuckle and bring her back to my chest, my hands on a feeling frenzy, my nose pulling in deep inhales of her sweet scent. “Whatever you want, my lady.”

“Just lady will do,” she breathes, and follows it up with, “I’m so in love with you.”

“I know you are, Ava.” My guilt swells.

“I need to get ready. I’m getting married, you know.”

I’m smiling again. “You are? Who’s the lucky bastard?”

She removes herself again, watching me closely. “He’s a challenging, neurotic control freak.” Her little palm strokes my scratchy face. “He’s so handsome.” Her low voice is setting off the ache in my groin again. “This man stops me breathing when he touches me and fucks me until I’m delirious.”

I resist telling her off for cursing, actually keen for her to continue telling me what she loves so much about me. Nothing will beat it, except her kissing me, which she does, starting on my chin before making her way to my lips.

“I can’t wait to marry him. You should probably go so I’m not keeping him waiting.”

“What would this man say if he caught you kissing another man?”

I feel her smile. “Oh, he’d probably castrate the guy, then offer burial or cremation—that sort of thing.”

I feign shock. “He sounds possessive. I don’t think I want to take him on.”

“You really don’t. He’ll trample all over you.” Her gorgeous shoulders shrug, making me laugh delightedly. She knows me so well. “Happy?” she asks.

“No, I’m shitting myself.” I take her with me when I fall to my back. “But I’m feeling brave. Kiss me.”

She doesn’t leave me waiting. It’s a wise move. I’m desperate for her and still seriously having to have a stern word with myself not to tear her lace off. Ava’s quickly all over me, demonstrating just how irresistible she finds me, and I am all for it, lapping up her attention. Letting it settle me. Settle us.

“Jesse Ward, get your sweaty body off my daughter!”

I roll my eyes at the familiar shriek, while Ava blesses my ears with her giggling, still smothering my face with her lips. I don’t stop her. Her mother can wait.

“Ava, you’ll smell. Get up! Tessa, help me out here, will you?”

Ava’s nails dig into my biceps as her mother tries to pry her away from me. She’s not giving up easily, my defiant little temptress. I grin like a fool.

“Mum,” she yells over her laugh, wrestling her hands away. “Stop it! I’ll get up.”

“Get up then. You’re getting married in half an hour, your hair is a mess, and you’ve broken an ancient tradition, rolling around on the floor with your husband-to-be. Tessa, tell her.”

Our frightening wedding planner steps forward and flashes me a disapproving look, mixed with a little lust. For me. Yes, as soon as we were face to face, I wielded my looks as well as my cash. No apologies. It worked. “Yes, come on, Ava,” Tessa says.

Ava finally relents on a grumble, lifting and leaving me sprawled on my back across the floor.

“Oh, look at you.” Elizabeth starts to poke and prod my girl while Ava looks down at me, her brown eyes sparkling, her lush lips curved mischievously. I lift up to my elbows, wanting a better view. “You’re a pair of children.” Then Elizabeth’s eyes harden, all for me, actually making me wilt slightly. “Out.”

“All right.” I give in before I completely obliterate my relationship with my soon-to-be mother-in-law, smiling when I see Ava flashing a warning look at our wedding planner, who’s got her eyes on me. It’s the chest. She’s not seen my chest in the various meetings we’ve had. I fucking love how possessive my bride is.

“I’ll take care of the groom,” Tessa declares, shooing me toward the door. “Jesse, come on.”

Something catches my eye. Or, more to the point, something doesn’t. “Wait.” My hand brushes the hollow of Ava’s throat. “Where’s your diamond?”

“Shit.” Her panic is clear, her hand feeling all over her bare chest where the diamond once rested neatly. “Shit, shit, shit. Mum!”

I would have accepted the first curse, but four? “Ava, please, watch your mouth.”

“Don’t panic.” Elizabeth is on her knees in a second, feeling around the carpet while my eyes dart, looking for the diamond.

“Here it is.” Tessa retrieves it and dangles it in the air, looking pleased with herself.

I take it more harshly than I mean to, snatching it from her grasp. “Turn around,” I order, and Ava pivots quickly, letting me secure it firmly around her neck. “There.” I can’t help a final taste of her skin, my hips pushing forward automatically. Shit. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a fucking glutton for punishment.

“That’ll teach you for frolicking on the floor,” Elizabeth snaps. “Now, out.” I’m seized, but I think better of trampling her further, grinning when Ava cheekily curtseys and waves. Twenty minutes—I have twenty minutes to shower, shave, dress, and head down to the summer room to wait for my girl.

This episode served its purpose. My heart is steady once again.

I’m pushed out the door before it’s slammed behind me, and I wander around the landing, smiling like an idiot. Entering my designated suite, I hear my mobile ringing. I’m still smiling as I pick up my phone off the unit.

But my beam falls immediately when I see who’s calling me.

Reject, that’s what I should do, but I also don’t want to antagonize her, especially today. I stall for a few seconds, gritting my teeth. Why? God damn it, I thought we’d established where we both stood. Mistakenly, it seems. “Fuck’s sake.” I stab at the connect button. “Coral.”

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

“Then why call?” I sound curt, and I shouldn’t care. But I can’t risk her delusional arse turning up and upsetting Ava. I take a deep breath and head for the bathroom.

“It’s not too late, you know.”

Oh my God, I don’t think I’ve ever known a woman to clutch at straws so tightly. Except, of course... Sarah.

I don’t know how many times I can say the same thing with different words. “Coral, please, I beg you, move on.” I flick on the shower.

“I can’t.”

My eyes roll, my mind unable to compute such tenacity. It’s embarrassing.

“Can I stay at The Manor?” she asks.

I still, staring at the water pouring down into the shower tray. “What?”

“I have nowhere to go, Jesse.”

“Your parents. You said you could go to your parents when they’re back.”

“I can’t face them.”

That’s her bad luck. I almost start laughing. Almost. “Not a chance. Fucking hell, Coral, have you lost your fucking mind?” She knows where I stand.

“But you said you would help me.”

“I have helped you. I put you up in a hotel for more nights than we agreed. You’re on your own.” I grind the words out slowly, yanking a towel from the shelf. “I told you, I’m marrying Ava.”

“Yes, today, I know.”

I’m still again. Yes, I’ve told her, but I never said when or where. “From whom?”

“I heard Sarah’s left too.”

“You sure are keeping good tabs on me.”

“I know you have feelings for me, Jesse. Why are you lying to yourself?”

Feelings? Yes, actually, I do. I fucking despise her. She’s deluded. And, worryingly, given everything I’ve been through in my past life, I’m beginning to wonder if Coral is slightly unstable, because not in anyone’s world would they be rejected so many times and still believe it’s love. “Listen to me.” I’m so tired of going over the same old shit. Over and over again. I’m starting to shake, my earlier contented state obliterated. “There’s a woman in a room just down the hall who has my heart. She owns me, Coral. She consumes every ounce of my thinking space, even when I have your whining voice in my ear. There’s not a person on God’s green fucking earth who will ever sever or influence what I feel for her, least of all you.” I take a deep breath. “I don’t see you, Coral. I see no one, except her, and I’m twenty minutes away from making it official in the eyes of God. The only thing that’ll separate us is death, do you hear me?”

She says nothing, but I hear a low weeping sound. And now she cries. From spiteful to pitiful. I can’t even feel guilty. I feel nothing for her. I hang up. I don’t have time for this, and I certainly won’t be keeping Ava waiting.

I shower and shave in fifteen minutes flat, then throw on my suit and head for the door.

But I think of something.

And smile.

I grab some handcuffs, check myself in the mirror once more, and leave the room, bumping into John directly outside.

“What’s up?” he asks immediately.

“Nothing.” I’m not wasting any more time or energy on Coral. Not today. Not ever. I look up and down his suited form. “Fancy.”

“Fuck off.” He shifts on the spot, highly uncomfortable. Not because of the suit—he’s always in suits—but because of his role today. “Are you ready or what?” He turns and stalks off, yanking in the sides of his suit jacket.

“Have you got the rings?” I ask, tailing him.

“Yes.”

“And the registrar is here?”

“Yes.”

“And the guests?”

“All in their seats.”

“The music?”

“Sorted.”

“The—”

John stops abruptly, and I crash into his back, making him jolt forward on a grunt. “Everything is fucking done,” he grates.

I raise my brows. Someone’s tense. “Nervous?”

“Oh fuck off,” he snaps, getting his big body moving again, taking the stairs. I follow behind him on a smile, straightening my tie. “And why the fuck have you got a pair of handcuffs?”

I quickly slip them into my pocket, not answering him. He doesn’t need an answer, he’s merely trying to distract me from the fact that the big scary fucker is shitting bricks.

When we reach the bottom of the stairs, I follow John into the bar. Drew and Sam both have a Scotch in their grasps, and I’m more than surprised when John holds his hand up for Mario to pour him one. Fuck, he’s really nervous. John absolutely never drinks. I watch all three men gasp their appreciation and slam their glasses down.

“My man,” Sam sings, slapping my shoulder and taking in my new three-piece. “Fancy.”

John lets out a rare, rumbling laugh and points to his glass for Mario to pour another. Drew gives me a curious look, and I shrug. This is new to me too. “Are you ready?” Sam asks.

“Yep.” I fiddle with my tie again.

“No nerves?” Drew asks.

“None at all.” Get me down that aisle right now. “Ask him,” I say, nodding to the back of John’s gleaming bald head.

“Don’t ask me,” he warns in reply, not taking his attention off his second Scotch.

“There you are!” Tessa seizes me from behind and hauls me out of the bar. “Come on, boys,” she yells back before looking me up and down. “How many have you had?” she asks, pushing me on. “The last thing we need is a drunk groom.”

“You have no idea.” I laugh, hearing John cough. “I’ve not touched a drop,” I assure her, looking up the stairs when I hear a door open. The door to my suite? “Is she ready?”

“She’s ready.”

“And she’s okay?”

“What’s up?” Tessa asks, flipping me a sideways smirk. “Worried you’ll get jilted at the altar?”

I snort. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous.” But I immediately break out in a sweat, looking back over my shoulder to the stairs. “Who’s she with?”

“Her father.” Tessa tugs me on, stopping at the summer room doors and facing me, brushing down the front of my suit. I eye her, stepping back, out of her reach. “You had a bit of lint.”

I hold up my hands. “I also have hands to remove it myself.”

She blushes and turns her attention to Kate, starting to faff with her dress instead, as if to make a point that she wasn’t singling me out to be felt up. The boys join us, and I watch as Sam moves in on Kate, smiling at her, taking her in.

“You look incredible,” he says, moving a stray lock of her red hair off her face. I frown when Kate shies away from his touch and then sways a little. Is she drunk?

“Now, then.” Tessa opens the doors to the summer room and ushers us inside, leaving Kate behind.

“Everything okay?” I ask Sam as we wander down the aisle, all eyes on me.

“Yeah.” He lowers onto a seat, and I look at Drew. He shakes his head mildly, his way of telling me he’s noticed something’s not right too. I haven’t got time to wonder whether I should be sharing the news of Kate’s history with Drew. Not today.

Joining John, I take a deep breath. “Ready?” I ask him, laughing on the inside. Anyone would think it’s him getting married.

“I’m ready.”

“You sure?”

He slowly turns his eyes onto me. No shades. “I’m fucking ready, you irritating motherfucker.”

I smile at him, nodding mildly. “You’re a good man, John Johnson.”

His smile is barely hidden. “Fuck off.”

I laugh but flinch when I hear Elizabeth approaching behind me, throwing out her hellos to all of the guests, lapping up the attention. I stare forward, gritting my teeth. She’s going to fucking kill me when I handcuff myself to her daughter.

Don’t care.

I swing around, all smiles. “Here she is, my beautiful mother-in-law.”

She half-smiles, half scowls, giving me her cheek to kiss. “Not yet, Jesse Ward. Not yet.”

“Any minute, Mum.”

“Behave.”

“No.” I look past her, seeing Tessa closing the summer room doors. “How is she?”

“Having a moment,” she says casually, going to her chair. My back straightens. A moment? What does she mean, a moment? “A moment?”

“With her father.”

I breathe out, and John chuckles beside me. “Worried she’ll change her mind?”

Yes. “No.” Music suddenly filters through the speakers, and my lungs inflate with my deep inhale. “Oh fuck,” I breathe, suddenly very nervous, my eyes on the doors into the summer room.

“Jesse.”

I hear the distant calling of my name.

“Jesse?”

I can’t respond, eyes still on the door.

“Jesse?”

This is it. This is the moment I’ve been praying for. Dreaming for. The moment I never thought could be mine.

“Jesse?”

She’ll be my wife. A wife I’ve asked for. A wife I love deeply. A marriage I could only dream of. A love reciprocated, a best friend, a soul mate, my absolute fucking world.

Ava.

“Jesse, for fuck’s sake,” John grumbles, taking my arm and pulling. I’m suddenly walking backward, and I frown, seeing I’ve somehow made it halfway down the aisle. The magnet. As ever, it’s powerful.

Leading me.

I jerk out of my daze, looking at John. “I think she’s pregnant,” I say quietly without thinking, and he recoils, his chest expanding.

“What?”

I blink rapidly, looking at the doors when they open.

And I see her.

Like a fucking angel, light radiating around her.

Lace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I whisper, the words getting caught in my throat. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

John moves in close to my side. “She’s pregnant?” he says quietly.

“Yes. No.” I shake my head, shake the daze away. “I don’t know.” I focus on Ava, straightening my shoulders and linking my hands, trying to look as perfect as a man should look while waiting at the end of the aisle.

Then she looks up.

And the world stops turning. Her chest starts to pump. She looks as nervous as I suddenly feel, and I know there is only one thing that can cure us both.

Contact.

I start toward her, making Ava stop in her tracks and the congregation gasp. I pay no attention, my eyes on my prize, and when I’m directly before her, I smooth my hand down her face, taking her in. I see all anxiety leave her, feel my own nerves melt away, and she pushes into my touch, her lips curving ever so slightly. Dipping, I get closer, hearing Elizabeth huff her disapproval. She’s in for a bigger shock than me meeting Ava halfway up the aisle.

“Give me your hand,” I order quietly as I dip into my pocket. The moment her dainty fingers brush my palm, I flip the cuff over her wrist and secure myself to her, smiling at the feel of her wide eyes on me.

Joseph laughs under his breath, relinquishing his hold and joining his distraught wife, and I watch Ava as she assesses the crowd. I don’t. All of my attention is on her.

Did she expect anything less?

“What are you doing?” she whispers, smiling nervously.

I kiss the nerves away before moving my mouth to her ear. “You look so fuckable.”

She coughs over her surprise. “Jesse, people are waiting.”

“Then they’ll wait.” I take my time, kissing her, making sure everyone here knows I will never conform to expectations, especially Ava’s mother’s expectations. “I really, really, really like this dress.” I’ve never seen so much lace. It’s apt, but it’s also a massive fucking problem. I’d love to rip it off, turn her around, and march her back upstairs.

But first...

I grunt lightly when I feel her hand slip into my hair, holding it, her smile glorious. “Mr. Ward, you’re keeping me waiting.”

Shame on me. “Are you ready to love, honor, and obey me?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. I should laugh out loud. Obey? Sure, in the bedroom. Outside of it? That’ll be the day. “Marry me now,” she demands.

I find her eyes and absorb the love drowning them. “Let’s get married, my beautiful girl.” I take her hand and walk us to the registrar, unable to take my eyes off her, in complete awe.

Mine.