Page 223 of This Bitter Sweet Temptation
As for Holden—
It’sincredible.No one ever tells you how amazing it feels to witness the expression on the man you’re about to marry as you walk down the aisle toward him.
Dad on my arm, smiling proudly. Kit and Margot follow behind in their gold dresses.
Holden’s eyes never leave me once.
There are universes there.
And I’m trying to stop a laughing fit when I reach him, giddy with delight. He catches my hands, pulling me up on the red carpet beside him.
“I love you,” he whispers and leans down to kiss me, even before the officiant says one word. “You look so damn beautiful it hurts.”
“Not too much, I hope.”
“No.”
For once, I agree.
I found this dress in a vintage shop. I think it was made in the fifties and it only needed a few alterations for my curvier frame. Now, soft satin hugs my body like a cozy glove.
Audrey Hepburn, just for a day.
Holden’s suit shines in the sun, a stark ocean blue shadow, the pocket square the same vibrant gold as Kit and Margot’s dresses. He’s let his beard grow out for this, shot down the middle with a grey streak that completes the silver fox look.
I talked him into that.
He never went too far with dyes, but I had to let him know I love him, age and all, and a little weathering with time just deepens that affection.
He’s vowed to stop fighting it.
“If I wasn’t already marrying you, I’d ask if you want to get hitched,” I whisper back, then turn to Dad.
He’s dressed up, too, and not in the wrinkled, afterthought suits I got used to him wearing through my childhood.
He’s also three months sober from everything, including his gambling fix.
It took real time, effort, and tears. Therapy and rehab his inheritance paid for, but he’s already looking so much better.
Brighter eyes, clearer skin,happy glow. He’s been reborn, and for once he doesn’t hate it.
Just seeing my father alert and smiling makes me tear up all over again.
“You get ’em, sweetheart.” He winks at me. “I’m so damn proud of you.”
I sniff embarrassingly loudly. “I love you, Dad.”
He hugs me. “You too. Now go get yourself a husband.”
I laugh as Holden’s fingers twine through mine.
We both turn to face the officiant, an older woman who smiles indulgently. I guess we’re not the only couple who messes up the traditions and kiss when we’re not supposed to or have mini conversations all through the ceremony.
Traditions aren’t the most important thing here, but the words that drift by carry weight. They build my future, brick by brick, bringing me one second closer to ever after with Holden Verity.
“And now,” she says after the vows and legal spiel, “you may kiss the bride.”
Holden’s brown eyes spark as he looks at me. He grabs my waist, bending me over as he leans down and devours my lips.
