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Page 117
Page 117
My mom, laughing softly, stands from her front-row seat and kneels at the end of the aisle. Owen runs right to her while laughing his ass off.
I look back at where Molly is still standing in the doorway to the sanctuary. Only this time, she looks annoyed that Owen doesn’t know how to do his ‘job.’ Finally realizing that the attention is back on her, she wipes the snotty look off her face and her beautiful smile takes over. Never one to miss a moment to shine, she starts tossing the flower petals from her basket all fancy-like, almost falling on her ass because she’s twirling with each toss. Hell, I’m shocked she didn’t demand to wear the tiara she’s been sporting since Ember showed her what her flower girl dress looked like.
She looks like a mini-bride. The white dress is puffed out around her with some shiny beads or something all over the top, straps, and skirt. But that smile alone is worth the ridiculous price Ember paid for that thing.
Molly’s had a hard time adjusting to my and Ember’s relationship. She’s always loved Ember, but when she realized what Ember was to me, there was some weird jealousy for a while. Ember took it in stride, but I hated it. Molly might not be my blood niece, but I love her like she was. Luckily, she realized real quick that just because she isn’t number one in my heart, she still has a big place.
It didn’t hurt that I spent four hours letting her paint my face and nails with all that girly shit. And took her to the movies dressed like a goddamn princess.
“Nate! I look like a princess,” she whisper-yells before standing next to Maddi and Dani on the other side of the little stage we’re all on.
I give her a wink but look away the second I hear the music change again and the pastor asking everyone to stand.
I can’t have an erection at the altar.
I can’t have an erection at the altar.
I can’t have an erection at the altar.
Then I see her.
The woman that, for almost a year, has shown me a love that almost brings me to my knees daily.
All previous thoughts disappear from my mind when I get my first good look at her. The skintight white dress fits her mouthwatering curves like a glove. The tiny straps at her shoulders look like they would snap with one tug by me.
Maybe with my teeth. I’ll have to try that later.
The small flare that starts at her knees comes up slightly at the bottom when she takes her first step, and I can just see the tip of a sparkly shoe.
My eyes roam back up the white fabric, following the intricate lace design until I’m looking at her chest. She takes another step, and they bounce. I have to look away before I embarrass myself.
When I see her face, though, that’s when I feel like my heart might stop. She’s crying, and even though I know it’s because she’s over the moon happy right now, I hate seeing her tears. But it’s the look of pure fucking love, for me, that has my heart restarting and thumping wildly in my chest. Each step she takes makes the rhythm crank up until I feel like I can’t breathe.
I swat at my cheeks when I feel my own emotion trickling from my eyes. I have no shame in my tears, not one fucking ounce. I want the world to see what this woman does to me.
When she takes her next step, bringing her to my side, I have to swallow the huge lump in my throat. The pastor says something, I couldn’t tell you what, and she continues to smile through her tears at me.
“Her mother and I do,” I hear.
I lose her beautiful face when she turns, and for the first time since she walked through that doorway, I see her father. He kisses her temple and pulls her into a hug while looking over her shoulder at me. I’m not sure what I expected from him right now, but seeing his own eyes wet wasn’t even in the realm of possibilities. Hell, I was still anticipating him coming down the aisle guns blazing and refusing to give her away.