Page 86 of Louder Than Words

Allie wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands and chuckles. “Yeah, we didn’t really plan this—”

I cut her off by digging into my pocket and pulling out a tiny square box.

Her eyes go wide as she looks down at it before covering her mouth with her hands. “Did you—” she starts.

I open it, revealing two matching rings. One for her. One for me.

Made from guitar strings.

Since there’s no jewelry store within twenty minutes of here, I figured what better way to showcase our love than with the guitar that started it all? I didn’t think twice about taking wirecutters to it, and the second I twisted them into rings, I knew they’d be perfect.

She holds her hand in front of her mouth, speechless.

“Is that?” she gasps.

I nod. “Same strings, love.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Ana asks from beside us.

Allie looks over my shoulder at her best friend, then lays a hand on her chest. “Guitar strings from his Taylor. The one he wroteDon’t Thinkwith.”

I shrug, meeting Allie’s eyes. “These are obviously temporary, since we can’t wear them all the time. But I figured, in the meantime, we could wear them on chains so they don’t cut into our fingers.”

She shakes her head, smiling softly. “They’re perfect, Jax.”

I grin and take one ring out of the box. The sunlight catches on the metal strings as I carefully slip it onto her finger.

Then Allie slides one onto mine.

“Alright,” the judge says, clapping his hands together. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” I say with a smile.

I lean in, snaking my arm around Allie’s waist, bending her carefully, and kiss her. I kiss her like my life depends on it. Like it’s the last time our lips will ever meet.

Her arms find their way around my neck, deepening the kiss.

When we finally pull apart, our foreheads stay pressed together, and all I can think is—

This is my goddamn wife.

35

Allie

“Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?”

I glance over at Jax, watching his biceps flex as he folds the thick chocolate chip cookie dough.

Wrinkling my nose, I shrug. “I don’t need a honeymoon. I’m just happy enough being married to you.”

He tilts his head toward me, eyes catching mine even as he keeps folding. “Oh, come on, Al. Everyone wants a honeymoon.”

“I’d be happy with just a family vacation,” I admit. And I mean it. I don’t need a vacation—or even a new set of rings. These guitar string ones Jax made with his own two hands? They’reperfect. Even if I have to wear it for the rest of my life around my neck instead of on my actual finger. And I definitely don’t need fancy trips, or the flashy in your face engagement rings.

I just needhim.

I slide the tray of cookies into the oven and set the timer. The feel of Jax’s arms sliding around my sides surprises me, but in a good, grounding sort of way. I lean back against him as his hands settle on my belly where soon enough I won’t even be able to bend to put cookies in the oven as easily.