Page 123 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

“I think I made it,” I murmured, looking into those earthen eyes that I had wasted far too many years wishing were green or blue. “Despite everything, we’re finally here. My happily ever after.”

Music began to drift up the stairs and through the door, telling me that the groom, my groom, had finally taken his place, and the ceremony was truly about to begin.

I tore my gaze away from the wonderful woman in the mirror who I was still getting to know, and Amanda and I locked eyes. She’d finally lost her battle and was crying, tears trickling down her cheeks. She looked like a movie star, but instead of feeling insecure about it like I once would have, I was filled with fondness.

“Ready to start the next chapter?” she asked, offering her arm. And I took it, knowing that soon her tanned and slender limb would be replaced by the beefy and pale one of the man who was more than I ever could have dreamed of.

“More than you could ever know.”

28

KEITH

HAPPILY EVER AFTER

My heart was going to explode.

Breathe in, breathe out. No spontaneous combustion!

Despite the frantic thoughts swirling around in my head, I tried to maintain a calm demeanor as I smiled out at the hundred or so guests Olivia and I had invited to our nuptials. They were all part of her pack, except for the three humans. Only two were my personal guests, but I didn’t mind that at all. I was pleased with how many had shown up considering there was still a good chunk of her distant family members who were highly displeased that I knew about shifters.

It didn’t help that right after I was told, my mother, Amanda, and then my woodworking mentor got pulled into it, but it helped that Mr. Pickingill already knew about them. Still hadn’t gotten that story out of him, but considering he spoke fewer words in a year than there were days, I was hoping I would get to hear it by around 2030.

“Unlock your knees, my dear,” my mother whispered behind me, and I immediately did so. The last thing I wanted on my wedding day was to faint in front of everyone. I’d seen that happen far too many times during band and chorus during my short stint on the percussion line, and I wasn’t keen on sidelining my own wedding day with that.

“Thanks,” I whispered back before returning to concentrating on keeping the terror out of my expression. I didn’t know why I was going to such lengths to appear cool as a cucumber when nearly everyone in the room was a shifter and could smell how excited, nervous, happy, scared, worried, thrilled, and terrified I was.

Did I mention how excited I was?

One might not expect a backyard to be intimidating—after all, that’s where water balloon fights and cooking s’mores over a bonfire were supposed to happen—but the entire place had been arranged so wonderfully by our “planning committee” that anyone who saw our wedding album would think we got married at a professional venue.

Gone were the metal folding chairs and wooden tables that had plenty of wear and tear, instead replaced with what I was told were the “special-occasion chairs.” They were all lined up in neat rows stretching from where I was standing under the wedding pergola all the way to the back doors of the house.

I’d worried that it would be gauche for me to use the same wedding pergola I’d made for Leandro and Roma, but the moment their wedding was over, they had insisted Olivia and I use it next. If we wanted to, that was.

And we definitely wanted to.

Although no one had said it out loud, it seemed the Rizoli family had a new tradition. And the fact that I was the one responsible for it wasn’t lost on me.

What was lost on me, however, was the time, because every minute that passed as I waited to see my beloved again was an eon. Our music wasn’t even that slow, but it took an entire age for the pack officiant, Olivia’s grandparents, her parents, and me to walk to our places. Then, after that, it was Amanda with my mother, who made quite the striking pair if I did say so myself, then Rolando and Ginna.

Olivia would have preferred for Serafina to be her other bridesmaid, but the twins were still too young, and we all decided it would be too stressful for Cillian to try to keep the twins quiet on his own, especially since they were still in the terrible-two phase. It had worked out for the best, because Ginna had ended up saving the day with her own set of twins (not blood related, of course).

The music changed, and my heart lurched, because that was their cue. A moment later, two adorable little dogs dressed to the nines in what I was sure was designer-wear cantered down the aisle in lockstep, two rings in cases secured to cushions on their backs. I had been a touch dubious at first, because I’d seen videos where a lot of things went wrong when animals were involved in nuptials. Then again, my soon-to-be in-laws could magically shift into wild, prehistoric animals, so I figured it was better to sit back and let the expert do her thing.

And that had been the right call, because everyone started making noises of delight or approval at the perfectly executed march.

Note to self, never doubt Ginna when it comes to her dogs.

Her love life, maybe. But not her fur babies.

From the corner of my eye, I saw both our photographers going absolutely ham as the two dogs took their place on either side of the wedding pergola. One with the ring I would give Olivia, and the other with the ring that Olivia would give me.

God, I wanted to see her so bad. To hold her hands. To look into her eyes and say the vows I had worked so hard on. But there was one more step before I’d finally get to look at the woman I was going to spend the rest of my life with.

The flower grandmas.

Sure enough, when the back doors of the house opened and Nonna Bianchi and Nonna Rizoli stepped out, a literal cheer sounded from everyone in attendance. While Nonna Bianchi waved it off with her hand and Nonna Rizoli gave a dramatic bow, I could tell that both women were absolutely loving each moment as they walked down the aisle and tossed the flower petals.