Operation 29 Vows and Victory #3
The carriage rolled toward the aisle, the horses powerful and stunning beneath polished harnesses. Two ranch hands guided them to the end of the flower-lined path where Ruxs and Green waited for their son.
Curtis climbed down and for a second, the whole ranch seemed to hold its breath.
He wore a black tux matching Gen’s, crisp white shirt, and a white silk bow tied perfectly by Tech.
His blond curls were styled back enough to show his face, and his eyes were bright, already wet, his smile so wide it nearly broke God open.
He was gorgeous. Grown. Radiant with happiness.
Curtis kissed his fathers on their cheeks, before his attention moved down the aisle to Gen.
His smile trembled, and Gen’s last inkling of composure didn’t stand a chance. God pressed his lips tight as his brother’s eyes filled. Curtis walked slowly, every step carrying years with it. Bad decisions. Grief. Gunfire. Court dates. Healing. Growing. Family gatherings. Laughter. All of it.
When he reached the altar, Ruxs handed him over to Gen.
Gen took both of Curtis’s hands and kissed the backs of them before they turned to face the officiant.
The ceremony was short. The local pastor with kind eyes and a voice steady enough to carry across the lawn, spoke about covenant, loyalty, and choosing one another, not only in joy but in every storm.
He spoke about families not always beginning with blood, about adopted love that defended and endured.
God kept his eyes forward.
Mostly.
He caught Day wiping his face with his thumb and glanced away before his own resolve betrayed him.
Then Curtis and Gen said their vows.
Gen went first, voice shaking but clear. “You weren’t a part of my plan,” he told Curtis, making him smile around his tears. “But you’re the best thing God blessed me with. The God, not my conceited brother.”
The guests laughed.
“You loved me when I didn’t fully know what it meant to be loved.
You made me brave when I was scared, strong when I was tired, and certain when I doubted myself.
I promise to choose you first in every season, every ordinary morning, and every impossible night.
I promise to be your home, your constant, and your husband. For the rest of my life.”
“That was really good,” Curtis smiled, crying openly now.
They all laughed again.
The pastor nodded with a soft grin. “Curtis.”
Curtis took a breath, then another. “I didn’t know anyone could love me the way you love.
I didn’t know if I’d be able to have a forever.
I used to think I’d be lucky if life gave me one person who stayed, and then somehow, I got two dads, a whole terrifying family of uncles, and you.
” His voice broke. “You look at me, you hold me, you love me, like I’m your entire world.
So I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret that.
I promise to love you loud when you’re watching Sports Center, and you wish I’d be quiet. ”
Everyone cracked up. A few of Genesis’s guys from work whooped as if Gen had vented to them about that more than once.
Curtis chuckled wetly. “I promise to dance in the kitchen when I cook, sing obnoxiously in the shower, overpack for vacations, and keep flooding our porch with packages.” He paused, his lip trembling.
“And I promise to hold your hand when life gets hard. You’re my favorite miracle, Genesis Godfrey.
And I promise to be a good husband and love you with my whole heart. Forever.”
Everyone clapped as if those were the best damn vows they’d ever heard.
The rings came next.
The vows sealed.
The pastor smiled at them both. “By the authority given to me, and before God, family, and every soul gathered here to witness this moment, I now pronounce you married.”
Curtis made a tiny yelp of victory.
“You may kiss.”
Gen barely waited for the words to finish. He pulled Curtis in, and Curtis went willingly, arms flying around his neck as the entire ranch erupted.
Then they broke apart, laughing and crying, then turned to face the crowd as husbands.
The reception opened with food, music, and enough liquor to pour generously throughout the rest of the night.
The catering company had come out of Savannah, according to Bull, and was the most sought-out caterer in all of Georgia.
Rotisserie chicken, baked red snapper, shrimp and grits, green beans, macaroni and cheese, yeast rolls, smoked turkey, mashed potatoes, sweet potato casserole, peach cobbler, and banana pudding, all Gen and Curtis’s favorites.
The band played low jazz through dinner, softly enough that the guests could carry on talking.
Glasses clinked. People laughed. Curtis made it six minutes before leaving the sweetheart’s table to hug the kids from his rec center and more of his guests.
Gen followed him, smiling as if he’d already accepted that marrying Curtis meant sharing him with every person he encountered and couldn’t help but love him.
The Ravens stayed through dinner, mostly at their table. After Saint returned from his horse ride, Curtis leapt into his arms as though they were best friends and made him promise him a slow dance before he left.
Meridian finished his drink and stood not long after the party got into full swing. The others rose with him, quiet and synchronized.
He came to God first. “Congratulations to your family,” he said.
God offered his hand. “Thanks for coming. It meant a lot to Curtis.”
Meridian shook it. “The invitation was unexpected.”
“Everything about Curtis is unexpected.”
Steele stepped up beside God, and Meridian’s attention shifted to him. “Enjoy your family this weekend. Report in on Monday.”
Steele gave him a stiff nod.
Scar clapped Steele on the shoulder. “Don’t get too drunk. Training is a bitch when you’re hungover…trust me.”
The Ravens left the way they had arrived.
In silence and mystery.
By the time the band switched from jazz to upbeat classics and newer hits, the dance floor filled fast.
Bull danced with Fox and moved better than a man his size had any right to. Hart pulled Free into his arms and let Free laugh against his neck. Ro and Johnson swayed through one song after another while everyone chanted “Sasha” until Ro flipped off half the tent.
Amelia ended up on the dance floor too, swaying as Walker guided her through a slow turn with a strong hand at her waist and the other holding hers as if it were something precious.
Walker leaned close, said something that made her blush, and God watched her swat his shoulder before letting him pull her right back in.
Xander couldn’t go two minutes without someone approaching him for an autograph or selfie. He handled it with grace, smiling, signing wedding favors, posing with moms, ranch hands, the pastor, and all of Curtis’s kids.
Curtis jumped into almost every one of his photos as if he’d invented the term photo-bomb.
“Take another one,” Curtis told the photographer, wrapping both arms around Xander’s waist.
Cassidy stood a few feet away, watching with an amused grin. It’d taken a few hours, but he’d eventually relaxed when he realized no one there was going to harm the man he loved.
After Rid had consumed a bit more liquid courage, he approached Xander again with way more swagger.
“You’re welcome to come back anytime for those lessons.”
Xander perked up. “I’d love that.”
Dale’s head dropped back. “Jesus Christ.”
Curtis and Gen left shortly after midnight to a shower of sparklers and drunken cheering.
They had an international flight in the morning for an all-expenses-paid weeklong honeymoon in Aruba as a gift from Xander and Cassidy.
Once Curtis and Gen were gone and all the kids had been collected by their parents and driven away sleepy, sugared, and covered in ranch dust, the night shifted into something looser and far less formal.
They moved outside under the stars, the air warm and clear, the lights still glowing across the property.
Chairs were gathered into messy circles. Boots propped on coolers. Jackets off. Ties loosened.
And the stories started.
Bad ones. Outlandish ones.
Hart told stories about Fox from his SWAT days that had the ranch hands staring in disbelief.
Day, Ruxs, and Green added their own, trying to top each one SWAT threw out.
The ranch hands refused to be outdone and proved without mercy, that no one could party as hard as men who spent all day doing physical labor.
That was when they broke out the horses.
God still didn’t know who suggested racing, but he blamed Dale on principle.
The men moved toward the pasture fence with fresh drinks and bad judgment.
God and his men went crazy when Fox climbed onto Diablo.
The black horse moved beneath him like liquid midnight.
Dale was on his horse, Brandy, and was right on his ass.
A few others followed but they weren’t near as fast.
“Damn,” Day exhaled.
God couldn’t argue. Seeing Fox on that black horse stole his breath away too.
Bull watched from the fence with pride. Syn rode too, but he wasn’t racing. He trotted along on a chestnut horse he called Nimbus, steady and comfortable, but careful.
The staff and a small crowd of people God learned were residents waved and encouraged him to ride faster. Syn waved them off, his smile growing wider.
It was obvious they liked him, and God couldn’t blame them. Syn was a damn good man. It’s why God made him his sergeant. This town was lucky they were getting him as their new sheriff.
Furi watched him from beside God with tenderness all over his face.
God glanced at Furi. “He looks good out there.”
Furi kept his gaze on Syn. “Yeah, he does. He’s really bonding with that horse.”
“You two seem good?”
Furi turned toward him then. “We are.”
God believed him.
The night stretched on.
Xander tapped out a little after midnight, claiming he wasn’t a partier, and not used to being up at that hour.
God shook his hand. “It was really cool you came all this way for Curtis. Thank you.”
Xander’s smile warmed. “He’s hard not to love.”
Cassidy shook God’s hand next. “You and Day heading west next week?”
“Yeah.”