Page 127 of Desert Rain
She stepped out like a general arriving late to a war she was still going to win. Black heels. Leather jacket. Hair perfect. Eyes sharp enough to skin a man alive. She took one look at Sienna and made a sound of absolute offense.
“No.”
Sienna blinked. “No what?”
“No bride of ours is walking down an aisle looking like she escaped a hostage situation.”
“I kind of did.”
“And now we fix the aesthetic.” Regan hooked her arm through Sienna’s. “Come on.”
My hand shot out before I thought better of it, catching Sienna’s wrist.
She looked down at my fingers. Then up at my face.
I forced my grip to loosen.
Regan arched a brow. “Problem?”
“I don’t want her out of my sight.”
“No kidding. You’ve got the subtlety of a caveman with abandonment issues.”
Edge snorted.
I ignored him. “Regan.”
Her expression softened just enough to make it worse. “I’ve got her.”
Sienna’s wrist turned in my hand until her fingers brushed mine. “I’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
“No,” she said honestly. “But I’m going anyway.”
That was my girl.
Not mine.
Not yet.
Not really.
But damn if the thought didn’t settle deep.
I let go.
Regan whisked her inside the chapel like she’d been waiting her whole life to turn a traumatized scientist into a Vegas bride. The door swung shut behind them, and every instinct in me snarled.
I paced.
For an hour.
An actual hour.
The brothers made themselves comfortable in the waiting area like the place was a clubhouse annex. Tank found coffee. Edge found a vending machine. River found the officiant and terrified him into making sure every document would be legalin all fifty states. A prospect took bets on whether Sienna would run, faint, punch me, or say “I do” with a death threat attached.
I ignored all of them.
