Page 207 of Summer Heat
“I vow to be your partner, to always have your back. I vow to hold your hand when no words are needed, hold you tight if you need comfort, and kiss your lips just because. I’ve always been yours, sweet girl. And I’ll always be yours. Today. Tomorrow. Forever.”
Nicola wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. A soft chuckle ran through the church, reminding him that they weren’t really alone. But he didn’t care, and she obviously didn’t either because they weren’t anywhere close to, “you may now kiss the bride.”
Somewhere behind him, the groomsmen were getting rowdy. Someone let out a, “hooyah.” And Beth—he was sure of it—aww-ed. Loudly. But they all faded away. Nic’s lips were on his, and the kiss reached into the depths of his soul.
Nic drew back from their too-hot-for-church kiss. “My turn.” She held out her small white paper, then ripped it, tossing the paper pieces into the air like confetti. Another chuckle ran through the church. “Here I go… Cash Garrison, I took your last name when I never thought I’d see you again.” Pain flashed in her eyes, and he caressed her hand until she smiled again. “It was the saddest of consolation prizes, but I clung to it because you were my world. I love you. More and more each day.
“I promise my heart, my soul. I promise to always trust and love unconditionally. I will follow you to the ends of the Eart
h if you need me. I will be your faithful, loyal wife to come home to, knowing you are forever my partner. Yes, in sickness and in health. But also through the hell of radio silence and undercover operations. I am yours, as I always have been. I vow this to you today.”
Cash had her in his arms the second she stopped speaking. He snaked his fingers around her veil, into her hair, and dipped her back, kissing her again in front of God and guests. Screw the reception. He was ready for the honeymoon suite.
Behind him, the preacher laughed. “The rings are just a formality. Skipping right along, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Cheers and claps echoed around them.
Husband and wife. Cash and Nicola Garrison. For real. He whispered into her ear. “How long do we have before the reception?”
She giggled. “I don’t know. Why?”
“Because I’m down to start the honeymoon before champagne and cake.”
“You’re going to make the best husband ever.”
***
They deplaned, moving through the quiet airport and headed to baggage claim. Nicola had been too excited on the long flight and had barely slept. Now she regretted that, and as Cash handled their luggage, she was dead on her feet.
“Doing okay?” he asked, clearly unaffected by the major time zone jump.
“Of course.” But the answer was a big no. Sleep was calling her name.
“Garrison?” a man called as he searched the crowd.
“That’s us.” Cash took her hand and started the way of what had to be their driver. With an efficient nod and grab of their bags, they followed him outside. A moment later, Nicola leaned into her husband as Cash pulled her into the back of the sedan.
The driver stowed their luggage in the trunk, and after slamming it shut, joined them up front. “Aloha, Mr. and Mrs. Garrison.”
“Hi.” A smile formed on her lips, but Nic was too tired to say anything more. The wedding reception had passed in a whirlwind, then even with the almost direct flight to Hawaii, her eyes were closing on their own.
“Aloha,” Cash said.
He curled her into his arms as the car started moving. Her eyelids hung heavier, heavier…
Waking up, Nicola stretched, rolling her shoulders, twisting into Cash. His eyes were on hers, and they were clearly not in the sedan anymore. She was very much sprawled out on a king-sized bed of what was obviously their honeymoon retreat. She pressed her lips together and blinked as the new surroundings. “Whoa.”
“Hey, sweet girl. You were out.”
“We’re here?” The opulent bedroom was tropical heaven.
“Have been for almost ten hours.” Cash chuckled.
She sat up, still wearing her clothes from the airplane. “You didn’t wake me up.”
“A firing line couldn’t have done that.” His rumpled blond hair and killer eyes would never get old. With a lazy grin, Cash leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. “Morning, wife.”
That would never get old either. “Mmm. Morning, husband.”
