Page 40 of Bad Boy Bakers, Vol. 2
Grey drummed his fingers against his thigh, struggling not to tug at his bowtie or fidget with his cufflinks. His body fairly vibrated with restless energy and a need to move. He was ready to get this show on the road.
A big hand clapped him on the shoulder. “Chill out, Dad. It’s almost time.” Jonah’s eyes were full of sympathy and amusement.
Grey didn’t think he’d ever tire of hearing “Dad.” All in all, the transition for the two of them had gone pretty smoothly. They’d built on their previous foundation and deepened their relationship.
“Hard to chill. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.” He’d been waiting his whole life for her.
“I get it. And from recent experience, let me just say you’ll feel a thousand times better in approximately half an hour.” He gestured back toward the row upon row of white chairs flanking a flower-strewn aisle.
Seeing that most of the seats were full, Grey had a moment to wish he’d suggested eloping to the beach.
He’d have been perfectly content with a small family affair.
But their wedding was a big celebration, and it seemed everyone in town had turned out for it.
In addition to the locals, a few dozen friends he’d made over the years had come down for the occasion, including the men who stood up with him today.
Ned slung an arm around his shoulders and turned him back toward the lake. “Here, let’s focus on all that progress being made on our facility over there. The contractor said it should be ready for punch-out work by the end of the summer. We could be opening our doors by October.”
Marcus Gaffy crossed arms still beefy with muscle, despite his near decade out of the Navy and the SEALS. “Gonna be a hell of a program when you’re done. It’s a beautiful spot for healing.”
It sure as hell was. He and Rebel had done their own healing here in the months since Jonah’s wedding. And as it had been the site of so many of their firsts, when she’d suggested having their wedding here, Grey hadn’t been able to say no.
“That’s what we’re hoping.” Appreciating the distraction, he turned his focus on Marcus. “You given any more thought to coming in as a guest instructor?”
“I reckon I could make that work.” He grinned, his smile flashing bright in his weathered face. “Hell, it’d be worth the trip down just to see you in the role of grandpa.”
“Never saw anybody quite so uncomfortable around babies,” Alonso Moretti added.
“I’m getting better,” Grey protested. Rory had seen to that. Now that she was mobile, she came toddling over to him every time Sam and Griff came to town, demanding to go “Up!” Rebecca insisted it was because she believed everyone would adore her. Grey secretly wondered if she could smell fear.
Jonah chuckled. “You’ll have plenty of practice by the time ours gets here.”
He wasn’t wrong. Aside from Rory, Cayla and Holt’s son would be arriving at the end of June. Rachel was due right around Christmas. Rebecca was utterly ecstatic.
Grey shot his son some side eye. “You’re way too calm about this.”
“Oh, I’m freaking out on the inside. Make no mistake. It’s just hella fun to tease you.”
“The secret,” Jim Heneghan announced, “is to never let them see you sweat.”
“He does know we’re talking about babies and not interrogation by enemy combatants, right?” Marcus asked.
Jim shrugged. “Same applies.”
Cayla circled around to join them, her brows firmly near her hairline. “I don’t even want to know.” She rubbed at the mound of her baby belly. “It’s about time. Y’all need to get into place. Jonah, you come on back for the processional.”
“Yes, ma’am. Dad, see you on the other side.”
As his son disappeared to wherever the other half of the wedding party was gathered, Grey took his position at the front of the aisle.
His friends assumed theirs, sentry to the celebration to come.
Then the music started, and the audience turned en masse to watch the procession.
Ripples of laughter spread through the crowd as a grinning Brax headed up the procession, bouquet in hand as the first of Rebel’s bridesmen.
Holt followed, then Jonah. Sam brought up the rear, beaming in a dress of deep rose.
One by one, they all lined up on Rebecca’s side.
Then the music shifted, and Cayla and Holt’s daughter, Maddie, and Mia and Brax’s daughter, Dakota, flitted their way down the aisle, spreading flowers as they went.
There really was no other word for it, as the pair were wearing fairy wings and flower crowns with trailing ribbons.
Dakota’s little brother, Duncan, wore a serious expression as he barreled his way down the aisle at double time, ring pillow clutched in his little hands.
Jonah, Holt, and Brax all crouched to give him a high five before he took up a hiding spot behind Brax’s knees.
The music died out, and it seemed everyone took a collective breath before “The Bridal March” began to play. Everyone stood and turned.
And there she was, gliding down the aisle in a stunning white dress and glittering crown, with what seemed an ocean of flowers in her arms. Grey’s breath simply wheezed out at the sight of her. She was radiant. Gorgeous. Perfect.
Rebecca reached the head of the aisle and took his hand, her fingers strong where they wrapped with his.
Grey felt the nerves settle, and he wondered how he could’ve waited so damn long to make her truly his.
Because this was exactly what he wanted, exactly where he was supposed to be.
Everything in his life had finally come full circle, back to this. To her. To them.
He didn’t remember the ceremony. Didn’t remember repeating the vows the minister fed him. But he memorized the reflection of the lake in her stunning green eyes. The strand of hair the breeze teased out of her up-do. The sound of her confident voice declaring, “I do.”
The moment they were announced “man and wife,” time snapped into focus again. Finally cleared for some kind of action, Grey swept her into his arms, bending her back in a dip as he kissed his wife for the first time to the rousing cheers of the assembly.
She was laughing as he brought her vertical again. That uninhibited, joyful sound that would never grow old.
The cheerful recessional music began to play, and they made their way down the aisle, arm in arm, as their guests rained flower petals over them.
Rebel bent her head toward him as they rushed through the flurry of petals. “Now, will you tell me where we’re going for our honeymoon?”
Pulling her close to his side, he asked, “How do you feel about Scotland?”
Choose Your Next Romance
Thank you for reading this conclusion to the Bad Boy Bakers series!