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He gave her a quick wink that did the trick. Her grin grew, her confidence found in an instant.

“You take my breath away,” he whispered.

Macie reached up and touched his bowtie. Once he’d revealed to Macie his plans for a fancy wedding rather than a ratty-blue-jeans, standing-before-Elvis affair, she had begged him to wear a tuxedo rather than his one good suit.

Her gaze slid along his body, taking him in from top to bottom. “Ditto.”

Adele and Porter had taken their places next to them, while Amanda and Brandi sat in two chairs near one of the garden fountains. The officiant, a very nice older gentleman they’d met briefly yesterday, began the ceremony and then invited them to speak the vows they had written. They turned to face each other, clasping hands.

Macie went first. “Part of me can’t believe I’m really standing here. The past couple of months have felt like a whirlwind. One minute I’m slogging drinks at the bar, the next I’m in your kitchen, drinking wine, eating spaghetti and falling in love so damn hard, I’m surprised I didn’t get a concussion.”

Hank chuckled.

“No one has ever looked at me the way you do, Hank.” Macie’s face sobered, her voice going softer than he’d ever heard it. “I’ve never looked into a person’s eyes and felt such complete, such total love and acceptance. I’m loud and brash and opinionated. I talk too much about stupid stuff. You’re the first man who has ever found all of that charming. You love me for all the things that make me who I am. I don’t know how to say it, but even though we’re getting married, I’ve never felt more free in my life.”

He squeezed her hand. “I understand,” he whispered. He wondered how many people in her past had told her to tone it down, suggested she might find a man if only she were a little less herself, a little calmer, quieter. She’d mentioned as much to him the night of their first date.

“I love you, Hank Cooper. And I don’t care if people say we’re going too fast or I’m too young for you or you’re insane for marrying me. I promise to love you until the day I die, and I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy.”

Hank swallowed heavily, certain he’d never heard anything more perfect.

“I know it’s been a whirlwind, Macie,” he admitted. “I’ve been way too impatient to get to the next part, moving us along at the speed of light. The thing is, I’ve spent a lot of the last five years or so just holding on, living life one minute at a time, not daring to dream about the future. I took what I got and I was grateful for it. Grateful for every single second I got to keep Sharon. Seemed greedy to want—or expect—more. So I just took it one step at a time, moving so slowly, it was like I hadn’t moved at all.”

Macie wiped her eyes and nodded. Though Hank had professed to have written his vows quickly, the truth was, while the words had hit the page quickly he’d struggled with whether or not he should say them. He worried about talking about Sharon on his wedding day to Macie. Then he realized he wanted her to know, to understand, once and for all, why he was standing there with her. Why there was no other place on earth he wanted to be.

“You saved me, Macie. I don’t think you realized it at the time. For months after Sharon died, I was drowning. In grief, bitterness, anger, loneliness. And then there was you. Inch by inch, you dragged me out of the murky depths. You pulled me up to shore and showed me a different way to live.” He paused and gave her a grin. “So really, what it comes down to is this is all your fault.”

Macie laughed, the sound mixed with a sob. “Figures.”

“I look at you and I’m not seeing minutes or hours. I’m seeing years. I’m seeing a lifetime. I’m seeing everything I’ve always wanted, but didn’t dare admit. I want it all. Kids and dogs and burned chicken and growing old and the sweet smell of bourbon. I want to dream about forever with you every single day, and I believe it exists. Believe that it’s ours for the taking.”

Macie had been fighting her tears until that point, but it seemed she’d given up the battle. She let them glide along her cheeks and he reached up to wipe them away.

Then he gave her the same promise she’d just made to him. “I love you, Whiskey. And I will until the day I die.”

The rest of the ceremony—hell, the rest of the day—flashed by in the blink of an eye. They exchanged rings and kissed. They were engulfed in hugs and well wishes and tissues were passed around as all the women were crying and laughing at the same time.

They all went inside for a fancy dinner, followed by dancing and dessert and more than a few bottles of champagne. TJ had made one toast after the other, each one funnier and racier than the next.

And then, finally, he and Macie made their way back to the room, tipsy and giddy and more than ready to consummate the marriage.

Macie walked straight to the bed, glancing over her shoulder at him. “Undo my buttons?”

Her pretty wedding dress dipped low in the back, held in place by a dozen or so tiny pearl buttons that started halfway down her spine. He stepped behind her, slipping each one free as he kissed the side of her neck.

“Been waiting all day to get you here,” he murmured.

She turned when the last button was unfastened. Macie slid the satiny material off her shoulders, the whole dress falling to the floor. She slipped off her heels as well.

Hank glanced down and enjoyed the view. Macie had obviously bought a new bra and thong to go with her dress.

“Damn, Whiskey.”

“See what happens when you give a girl time to prepare?”

He laughed at her joke. “Shaved legs?”

She nodded. “That’s not the only thing I shaved.”