Chapter 40
Iris
A Year and a Few Months Later
After putting Maverick to bed, Roman slides onto the couch next to me, where I’m reviewing this month’s payroll for my new equine therapy center.
As he gets settled, I close my laptop and grin at him.
“Did he fall asleep in the middle of his first book?” We have a running bet about how quickly Maverick will fall asleep—namely, whether he’ll make it through his first requested book or not.
It’s an especially fun game on days like today, when Maverick played especially hard.
Roman flashes me an achingly handsome smile. “He passed out on page three. You win.” He motions to my closed laptop. “Finish up, if you need to.”
“I’m good. It’s not due till tomorrow.” I slide the laptop onto the coffee table and snuggle up to him. “How was the shoot today?”
“Fun, boring, long.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Lucrative.”
We both laugh. After back-to-back Super Bowl wins, money seems to grow on trees for Roman Maguire these days.
Sponsorships, licensing deals, brand deals, investment opportunities.
He’s got his pick of all of them—and they’re all worth millions on top of endless millions.
Hence, the top-of-the-line equine therapy facility Roman was able to build for me without breaking a sweat.
With a kiss to my temple, Roman asks, “Did you have fun shopping for wedding dresses today?”
I can’t help smiling from ear to ear. “I sure did. I found the perfect dress—only the third one I tried on.”
“Congrats. I can’t wait to see it on my fiancée . . . and take it off my wife.”
Today’s shopping excursion was a dream come true.
Totally different than the one for my stupid wedding to stupid
Brandon. Of course, knowing my groom is Roman made all the difference.
That’s the main thing. But it was also a pure joy to have Ava, Nicola, and Luca’s beloved, Chelsea, my honorary mother and two sisters, joining me for the festivities this time, along with my besties, Harper, Kaylee, and Tatiana.
Plus, having an unlimited budget was awfully fun. Not gonna lie.
The main reason today felt so different and so much better than the first time, however, aside from Roman being my groom, is the way I felt.
When picking out a dress last time, I now realize I selected a dress to please Brandon.
Something conservative that didn’t show much skin.
It was pretty, granted, but not what I truly wanted, in retrospect.
Although, come to think of it, I never even stopped to wonder what I truly wanted, so I didn’t understand the difference.
This time, by contrast, I picked out a dress for myself.
A modern gown with sleek, sultry lines that made me feel beautiful and sexy and like the best version of myself.
Of course, I want Roman to think I’m gorgeous when he sees me in my wedding dress.
But this time around, I know my future husband will think I’m beautiful and sexy, no matter what I’m wearing, as long as it’s me who’s wearing the dress.
“So, hey,” I say, leaning my cheek against Roman’s broad shoulder. “There’s a wedding detail I’d like to run past you.”
“Whatever you want, the answer is yes.” He’s been saying that all along. Not because he’s not excited about our wedding, but because he genuinely doesn’t care about the details, only the end result.
“I think you might want to have a say about this one.”
Roman shrugs. “I’ve already weighed in on the things I care about. Truly, the rest is up to you.”
I twist my mouth. “I want Luca to officiate.”
Roman’s chuckle rumbles against my cheek. “My brother’s a veritable cult leader at this point.”
“Can it really be called a cult when there are only three members, though?” I shoot back, referring to myself, Nicola, and Luca’s beloved, Chelsea. I snicker. “Come on. You have to admit Luca did a fantastic job for Marco and Nicola.”
“How do you know that?”
“Nicola showed me some videos today. Luca killed it.”
Roman snorts. “So, you’re saying I’ve got Nicola to blame for this?”
“No, you’ve got Nicola to thank. She told me Luca was one of her favorite parts of the whole wedding. She said he made everything feel fun and relaxed, and that’s exactly what I want.” Unlike last time. That’s the subtext here. The thing I’m not saying out loud.
Roman knows one of the most traumatizing parts of my prior wedding was the way the pastor—a man of God who’s known me my whole life—bellowed at the top of his lungs to my father to “Get her out of here!” Since then, Harper told me he’s been shockingly unkind about me.
Apparently, he’s called my behavior “deplorable” and “disgraceful” to anyone who’ll listen in Orchard Blossom.
Roman kisses the top of my hand and meets my anxious gaze. “Let’s do it. Luca did a great job for Marco and Nicola.”
“Really?”
Roman nods and smiles. “But only if you promise not to tell Luca I complimented the job he did for Marco and Nicola, or I’ll never hear the end of it from him.”
“My lips are sealed.” With a laugh, I straddle Roman on the couch and kiss him. “Thank you, my love. You’re so good to me.”
Roman slides a palm to my cheek and kisses me passionately. And a few seconds later, after a bulge has noticeably hardened beneath his jeans, Roman rises from the couch, taking me with him in his arms, and takes me straight to our bedroom.