CHAPTER THIRTY
Grayson
I can’t handle an end. Not with the way I feel about you. If that’s what’s going to happen after the year is up, then call off the wedding. Break me now before you completely destroy me ... Just don’t let me walk down the aisle if the groom standing under our beautiful, flowered arch isn’t completely in love with me.
Jovana’s words had repeated in my head since the moment she’d spoken them.
I understood her request.
Her fear.
The reason she wouldn’t want to fulfill the contract.
Pull the Band-Aid off now even if it left a scar. But at least, in time, the air would heal the wound, and despite thinking of me whenever she looked at it, at least she wouldn’t have the adhesive snagging on her clothes every time a piece of fabric got close to it.
My girl wanted an answer.
Reassurance.
She wanted me to look her in the face and promise things I’d never voiced to her before.
Love.
A long-term commitment.
And while I’d gazed at her in the kitchen with the mug still in my hand, I had told her how the article had made me feel. How finding out that she had written it was such a huge fucking blow that I wasn’t prepared for. How I’d discussed it with the fellas while she’d been out walking, and they made me see a side that I hadn’t considered.
Her side.
But all that had happened before the phone call from the hospital.
Before I knew the details of the accident.
Before I held her hand that was pierced with an IV and kissed her cheek that no longer smelled of vanilla and lavender. Instead, she was covered in a smell I didn’t recognize.
Remnants of the surgical room and rubbing alcohol and the tape that held the oxygen tubes in her nose.
Smells I couldn’t fucking stand.
God, I’d almost lost her.
I’d almost reneged on the promise I’d made to her father that nothing would ever happen to her.
And while I’d told her about how I held her in that hospital room, I also detailed how I’d thought about her.
About us.
Jovana knew that my mother had shaped my view on relationships. How she had treated my father was the reason I never wanted to get married.
Why Hooked was so perfect for my lifestyle.
But what she didn’t know was that I had learned something else from my mother.
Something vital.
Something I’d carried with me since I found out she had passed.
And that was the importance of time. How it wasn’t promised. How it could slip through your fingers so quickly, you needed to grasp what was in front of you.
Hold on.
Never let go.
I dominated the shit out of that when it came to work, my friendships, and my dad.
Just not with women.
I was too angry. Bitter. Resentful.
I was never going to let a woman do to me what my mother had done to my father.
And I was never going to turn into the guy who consistently reached for a woman’s hand even when it clasped another man’s, who kept his ex-wife’s urn on the mantel.
Fuck that.
But then this gorgeous, kindhearted, patient, blue-eyed woman came into my life.
She turned out to be the light I needed.
The light I never knew I wanted.
The light I didn’t realize I could fall in love with.
Part of what she was asking of me was impossible. I couldn’t promise a future. I couldn’t tell her that after twelve months, or even twelve years, things would be perfect.
That I would always be everything she ever wanted.
That time wouldn’t somehow come in and kick us in the balls, like the biker who had taken her feet out from under her and the health issues my mother had experienced that had ultimately caused her death.
But there was one thing I could promise.
One thing I was going to promise.
And the moment when I’d get to do it, when I’d be able to take her by the hand and say those words, was almost here.
I glanced toward the staircase, where Jovana was making her way down the steps. At the bottom, there was a landing that also happened to be the base of the garden. That was where she paused by the long bed of potted flowers.
She was giving me a chance to take her in.
To witness her beautiful smile.
To wipe the goddamn tear that had begun to fall from my eye.
No man should ever be this lucky.
To have someone who looked at me the way Jovana did.
But I had her.
The skin that glowed under the sun. The cast that covered her from wrist to elbow. The long, dark curls that hung around her exquisite face.
Every bit—all mine.
She was a masterpiece.
A vision.
And fuck, she made me breathless.
As she walked toward me, I thought about what I was going to say. Words I hadn’t planned or rehearsed. It wasn’t that I was an expert at public speaking; I just wanted to see how I felt in this moment. To let it hit me and simmer inside my gut before I purged the thoughts that came to me.
The emotions that surfaced high enough to be shared.
When she was within reach, I nodded at Ernie, silently thanking him for trusting me, for giving her to me, for not holding the accident against me despite what I’d promised him.
I took her hand from her father’s fingers.
And then I led her under the flowered arch, where I’d been standing in my black tux.
“Jovana,” I whispered, my gaze lowering down her perfect body, one that was wrapped in lace and satin, a dress that hugged her curves. It didn’t come close to competing with her beauty, nothing could, but fuck me she was incredible in white. “You look amazing.”
The smile grew across her lips. “So do you.”
I didn’t listen to the officiant as she started with an introduction, thanking our guests, or when she transitioned into her opening monologue.
I focused on the moments it had taken me to get here.
The fight.
The resistance.
The second-guessing.
The fall.
Each phase I had gone through since Jovana had come into my life.
My thoughts ended at the promise I’d yet to make.
But she knew if I was under this arch, holding her hands, staring into her eyes, then I was completely, madly in love with her.
“As you know,” the officiant said, “the exchange of wedding vows is not only a long-standing tradition, but it’s the most important part of the ceremony. Words that the bride and groom use to signify the growth of their union and the promises they make to one another. Rather than going with traditional vows, our bride and groom have opted to write their own.” She glanced up from the paper she held, adjusting her glasses while eyeing us at the same time. “I’m going to ask you now to look at each other and speak those sacred words.” She signaled to Jovana, letting her know she should go first.
My soon-to-be wife stared at me while a wave of emotion trickled into her eyes. A smile that I knew was different from the other versions she used. It was an expression that had taken me months to analyze and understand, but now I knew the truth about it.
She reserved that smile for only me.
“Grayson,” she began, “when we found each other—or hooked, however you want to call it”—she stopped to wink—“this was what I envisioned. Maybe not this setting. Or this dress. Or all the papers we’ve now signed our names to.” She paused to inhale, her eyes telling me she was referencing our twelve-month contract, but our guests would assume it was something home or utility or marriage-license related. “But what I saw was this depth of love. The feeling of wanting forever. A desire to hold you and never let go. I could promise to always love you, but those are just words. I’d rather show you, so you can feel all the love I have for you.” Her chin trembled as she continued, “What I can promise is that you will have all of me. The good. The injured”—the crowd chuckled—“and the days that are my darkest when I’ll rely on you to find the light. I can promise you my heart. My commitment. And I can promise you that there isn’t anyone who could ever fulfill my fairy tale like you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Grayson, and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.”
God.
That fucking woman.
She couldn’t have crafted a more perfect set of promises than the ones she’d given to me.
I carefully squeezed her fingers, making sure I didn’t hurt the ones sticking out of her cast, and said, “Jovana, I know, like our vows, our story hasn’t been traditional. The way we met. The way we grew. The way we fell. Or the steps that took us here, to our wedding, where I’m giving you all my promises. But if I’m being honest, a traditional courtship wouldn’t have led us here. A place where I can look you in the eyes and tell you how much I love you.” The first tear dripped over her eyelid, and I released her hand to catch it. “I promise to do that every time I see you cry—and I hope—Jesus, I hope—those tears aren’t because of me. Not when our love is this deep. Not when I know that whatever comes our way, we’ll jump those hurdles together, baby.” Now that I’d wiped her tear, I held out my fingers, waiting for her to grab them again. “I promise that you’ll wake up every morning in my arms and that my embrace will show you not only the kind of husband you need but the kind of husband I want to be. I promise to do everything in my power to keep you safe and protected. No one will ever hurt you again as long as I can help it. Including me. And I promise to love you, not just in my soul, but to make sure you feel that love, to make you see it, and hear it. Not just now. Not for the next year. But forever.”
As she interpreted my vows, her head shook, her thumb ran across the backs of my knuckles, and her lips mashed together, like she was stopping herself from responding.
Her eyes showed me everything she wanted to say but couldn’t with the seventy-five guests in attendance.
Jovana and I had secrets that would never be unlocked.
But it didn’t matter.
I’d obliterated her fears.
I’d given her what she wanted to hear, and I’d voiced every word I wanted to say.
This was the true beginning.
Of us.
“Beautiful,” the officiant said. “Now it’s time to exchange rings.”
I reached to my side, where my three best men stood, first my father, then Easton and Holden. I didn’t believe in choosing one to have a higher role than the others. The three were in my life for different reasons.
But each one meant everything to me.
My father handed me the diamond band I’d chosen for Jovana, and I held it in front of her ring finger.
“Repeat after me,” the officiant said. “With this ring, I thee wed, and pledge you my love, now and forever.”
As I looked into Jovana’s eyes, I pushed the diamond circle onto her finger, repeating the phrase.
And when it was her turn, she turned toward Sloane to get the band she’d picked out for me, aiming it at my finger, and as she pushed the metal higher, past my knuckle, she repeated the identical statement.
“By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts,” the officiant said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride.”
I cupped her face with my hands, and I leaned down, hovering my lips above hers, whispering, “I love you so much,” before I locked our mouths together.
brEAKING NEWS: Boston’s Biggest Bachelor Is Now a Married Man
Grayson Tanner, 30, and Jovana Winters, 22, have officially tied the knot. Sources confirm that the wedding took place in Boston, where their guests were overheard gushing over the lavish, fancy, pricey affair.
You can keep the overpriced caviar, we’re gushing over the bride. She may be a Winters, but there’s nothing icy about the way she looks in that dress.
Baby Hooked news coming next?
We hope so.
Good luck to the newlyweds.