Page 90 of Atlas & Miles

I shook my head to clear it. “Yes. Everything’s all set.” I glanced down at the nearly complete checklist on my phone. “Flowers, check. Out-of-town guest arrangements, check. Officiant, check. Reception rentals, caterer, string quartet, DJ, cake, check-in with the wedding planner, tuxes, dress, check, check . . . however many checks.”

Miles’s eyes shot to mine as one eyebrow flew up. “Dress?”

I smirked. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it.”

His gorgeous grin, the one I still felt like I earned but that showed up so much more often now—at least when we were alone; my grumpy man could still grouse with the best of them—spread across his beautiful face. “I’m sure I will, Daddy. Will you wear a garter for me to take off with my teeth?”

I threw my head back and laughed. “How do you know it’s not just a dress to wear as we’re leaving? Seems like you’re making a lot of assumptions, baby boy.”

Miles pushed up on his hips, bracing on his arm. His eyes grew hungry as he devoured me with his gaze. “You know I’ll love whatever you wear, Atlas. I always do. I want to see you in all of it. And then, when we get to our destination,outof all of it.”

I laughed again when he wiggled his eyebrows comically. Miles had been my rock as I’d planned this wedding—well, hired a wedding planner to plan this wedding. He’d helped with all the arrangements, made calls and appointments, and calmed me the fuck down when my brain started spiraling out of control and my spoons were almost gone.

I glanced down at the engagement ring on my finger. When I’d proposed this spring, I’d bought Miles a classic platinum band to wear during our engagement, short though it was. He’d said yes without hesitating, then, after we’d celebrated properly, he pulled up the website of my favorite jewelry store on his phone, and we’d browsed until I found the one I wanted. It was the perfect blend of feminine and masculine coalescing into a gorgeous ring: an artistically engraved platinum band filled with sparkling diamonds. It was one-thousand-percent me, and I appreciated that Miles knew me well enough to know I’d want to pick out my own ring.

Fuck, I loved this man.

“You’ll get me naked soon enough, baby.” I eyed him over the top of the glasses I’d gotten a few months back. I only needed them infrequently, but Miles had confessed to a hot teacher fantasy, so we’d gotten some good use out of them.

Miles shuddered.

I grinned. “But now, we need to get to our rehearsal dinner.” A few of our friends from the reunion, Brad, Finn, Reece, Holden, Theo, Caden, and Chloe—and Chloe’s queer-platonic partner, Christian, who we’d gotten to know better over the past year—plus some of our friends from Seattle, including Anson and Nate, were in town for the wedding, so we were having a low-key bachelor party at Timbers & Tallboys to celebrate. Miles and I had already agreed on a one-drink limit and an early-ish night.

My boy leapt to his feet, spinning to grab the pants he’d laid out on the couch opposite me—which gave me the most deliciousview of his delectable ass. It still bore my handprints from a few nights ago, though they were regrettably faint. We were taking a rare break from spanking for a few days.

We had nude beach plans for the honeymoon.

The rehearsal dinner was lovely, the rehearsal itself was quick and painless, and our meetup at the bar with all the friends we’d kept in touch with over the past year and the ones we’d brought with us from Seattle was the perfect cap to the wedding planning season.

And now, everything was finally in place. I fell asleep in Miles’s arms, waking only to Miles shoving his cock between my legs and jacking me to completion as he released in my lap. Perfect start to our wedding day, I’d say.

The wedding itself took place at Yellow Branch Falls in a clearing a little off the beaten path so we wouldn’t have any interruptions. Miles had kept the arch he’d made for the reunion last year, storing it in my momma’s shed at her insistence—I suspected she’d wanted to use it for this very purpose—and it made the ideal wedding arch. It was covered in greenery and white and purple wildflowers, complementing the woods surrounding us.

I had indeed bought a wedding dress for the occasion. The top was a stylish mix of lace and see-through netting, open in the back, and the fabric stretched up to my neck. The bottom was a full satin skirt with just the hint of a train and a massive satin flower on my left hip. And the best part? It was all in a deep purple that set off my green eyes beautifully.

It had been hard to find a hair and makeup artist in Gomillion, so I’d brought my favorite one from Seattle. We’d spent a lot of the morning talking and laughing as she got me photo-ready for the best day of my life while Miles was tying up all the loose ends.

The music started, my momma led me out of the trailer we’d rented for the day, and I stepped to the end of the aisle that was flanked by our small group of attendees.

Then I glanced up, and all I saw was Miles, tears already streaming down his face. I somehow made it up to the front without tripping over my dress in my heels, and when Miles grabbed my hands and we turned to face each other, I knew I was finally home.

Our officiant, a friend of my mother’s, gave some beautiful remarks about the power of a love that never lets go. Our vows were next, a scripted blend of traditional vows with our unique twist. I definitely kept in the part about Miles obeying me—a secret I’d kept from him—which drew a laugh from the crowd and a shit-eating grin from him that told me he would definitelynotbe doing that. I raised my eyebrow in response, and his answering smile told me he knew I would love him not obeying. That was what punishments were for.

My eyes welled as we neared the end, and I saw Miles’s mirror my own. I mouthed a “Don’t make me mess up my makeup,” which just made us both laugh through our tears.

The officiant cut into our moment to finish the ceremony. “I now pronounce you married—partners for life and soulmates for all time. Atlas, kiss your man.”

To the whoops and hollers of the fifty or so guests in attendance, I reached for the back of his neck, pulled Miles down to me, and pressed up on my toes to plant a kiss on his delicious firm lips. I deepened it, opening my mouth enough to give him just a taste, and he growled and pulled me against him to a new round of cheers. We only backed off when we needed to catch our breath.

After photos against the backdrop of the sun setting over the mountains in both my dress and then a tux I changed into that complemented Miles’s, we retreated to the reception tent setup nearby. The food was delicious, the speeches were heartfelt, hilarious, or both, and the atmosphere was lovely. But even lovelier was getting to dance with Miles again mere miles away from where we’d done it in front of almost everyone we knew for the first time.

That fateful night, over a year ago now, we’d worried it would be our last night together. We’d gone through a lot to get here—healing, growing, getting to know each other, standing by each other when shit got hard.

But tonight, we reaped the rewards of every bit of hard work that didn’t actually feel hard at all. Everything had been worth it. Because instead of this being our last night, it was thefirstnight of our new life together.

I’d proven I could let someone love me for me. Miles had proven he could let go of what people thought and embrace who he was. We’d proven we could make it.

And as he leaned in close without hesitation—bravely, fully, and with more love than I thought possible shining in his eyes—and kissed me with everyone watching, I had no doubt he would continue to love me out loud for the rest of our lives.

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