My eyes widen at that. “I don’t know, are we writing our own vows?”
“We can. Or if you’d prefer, we can save our written vows for Paris,” he suggests.
“I think we save them for Paris. That way I have more time to come up with them.”
“We’ll take these three rings, please,” Bennett tells the sales person. “I’m shocked that we were able to find bands that fit us both.”
“It was meant to be, my love,” I tell him before pulling him in for a kiss.
He cups my chin and his hazel eyes are intense as he searches mine. “Are you sure about this? Tonight? We can wait if you’re not sure.”
I nod and give him my most assuring smile. “Positive. I’ve never been more sure.”
“No second thoughts or cold feet?”
That earns him a giggle. “Toasty warm feet and a clear mind.” I pause, now internally freaking out. “Why, do you?” I question.
He smiles back at me with an effortless confidence. “I’ve never been more sure either. Let’s do this.”
“Shall we make this official then, Mr. Wilson?” I ask him, taking his hand in mine as we leave the store. Bennett’s holding a shopping bag with our wedding bands in tow, and things are now beginning to feel real as we walk hand in hand down the strip to the chapel.
My soon-to-be husband brings my hand to his lips and peppers kisses along each of my knuckles. “I can hardly wait to make you Mrs. Wilson.”
26
February
“Like you said, technically we got married by the Eiffel Tower,” I tell Scar as we walk by the Eiffel Tower Experience.
Scarlett chuckles at that because it’s not wrong.
“I promise, we’ll have the big wedding. This summer, just like you’ve always wanted.”
Scar stops in her tracks and spins to face me, pushing my shoulders so I’m pressed against a brick wall. “And I promise that this is everything and more I could’ve dreamed of, Benny Boy. Now stop worrying and celebrate with your wife.”
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I spread my legs apart and pull her in closer. “Fuck, Red. I think we should celebrate alone first.”
Scar presses herself impossibly close to my body, surely feeling the proof of my arousal. Lowering her voice, she whispers, “You’ve got the rest of your life to go caveman over calling me your wife. For now, let’s celebrate with our friends and family.”
And celebrate we do. I’m pretty sure—no, I’m absolutely positive—I’ve never danced this much in my life. But you won’t find me voicing any complaints with the way my wife grinds her ass against me in her tiny dress as we dance at whatever club Jax has us at.
Walker took Gemma under her wing for the night until Gemma decided it was time to turn in. Dakota and Carson walked her back to her grandparents’ suite before they turned in for the night too.
“Who is that talking to Walker over there?” Scarlett asks McKenna once we’ve gone to the bar for some water. But before I can see who she’s asking about, Jax pulls me aside rather aggressively for my liking.
“How come you didn’t tell me Calvetti was going to be here?” Jax asks, his voice laced in frustration.
“I didn’t think I’d have to considering he’s one of the All-Star goalies for the weekend,” I answer in an annoyed tone.
Jax scoffs before taking a pull of his beer. “But you do recall my history with that clown, right?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Honestly, J, not really. I mean he was the goalie for your college hockey team. You only played with him for a year before he signed with LA. I still don’t really understand what made you hate him so much in one season.”
“The fucker messed up my one chance at getting her back.”
I sigh in understanding. “It always comes back to her.”
“And it always will. How would you feel if you lost Scarlett? If she walked away from you to move on to bigger and better things without you?”
