Page 53 of Dare to Hold (Dare To Love #1)

Gray

The morning sun creeps over the French Quarter, casting a golden haze through the open balcony doors. I woke up before dawn, nerves humming beneath my skin—not from fear, but from anticipation.

I slip outside with my coffee and sink into the weathered wooden chair overlooking the street. New Orleans stirs below, slow and sleepy, but up here it’s quiet.

I cradle the mug in my hands and breathe deep.

I open my journal, the same one I’ve carried for the past couple years. I flip to the back, where pages are filled with prayers I’ve written over time—some desperate, some grateful, some unfinished. My fingers still on the one I wrote eighteen months ago, the morning I met her.

I didn’t know her name then. Didn’t know that the girl who grabbed my hand on a dare would eventually grab hold of my heart in ways I never saw coming.

I didn’t know she’d be the one I’d wait for.

The one I’d fall in love with. The one I’d pray over, wrestle for, surrender to God again and again until He brought her back in a way only He could.

And today…she becomes my wife .

I scribble one more entry, hand a little shaky with the weight of it all.

September 22nd,

Lord, today is the day. I don’t know how You do it, but You always exceed anything I could ever ask for.

Ivy is a gift I never saw coming but always hoped for.

Help me to love her like You love. Help me lead her with gentleness and joy.

Let today be full of peace, full of Your presence.

I surrender this day to You. Thank You for letting me be hers.

I set the pen down, press my palms together, and let my eyes close for a moment.

Because in a few hours, she’ll be walking toward me.

And I’ll be standing there, heart wide open, ready to vow forever.

They tell you not to look. That the moment she walks down the aisle should be the first time you see her.

But I couldn’t wait that long.

We’re tucked behind the courtyard where the ceremony will take place—hidden from guests, from the whirlwind of planning and nerves. Just me, my pounding heart, and the sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

“Ivy’s coming,” the photographer says, quietly.

I turn to face the stone wall, swallowing hard, my palms already sweating. I flex my fingers at my sides. Inhale. Exhale. I didn’t expect to feel this undone.

“Okay, you can turn around.”

I pivot slowly, not sure I’m ready for what’s about to hit me.

But nothing could’ve prepared me anyway.

There she is.

Ivy.

Hair curled soft around her shoulders, eyes lit like the sun, lips trembling with the start of a smile. Her dress is simple and elegant, the fabric hugging her like it was sewn just for this day, just for her. Gold jewelry glints in the light, but none of it shines like she does.

And when her eyes meet mine…

I lose it.

A laugh breaks out of me, cracked and choked at the edges, and I swipe at my eyes before the tears get the better of me.

“Hey you,” she whispers, stepping closer.

I take her hands in mine, lifting them to my lips before I can stop myself. “You’re…you’re so beautiful it’s actually unfair.”

She laughs, a soft breath that carries the weight of everything we’ve walked through. “You clean up nice too, Bennett.”

“Do you have any idea,” I murmur, my forehead tipping to rest against hers, “how long I’ve been waiting to call you mine?”

Her eyes close, a shimmer behind her lashes. “I do.”

And for just a heartbeat, I lose myself in what’s coming.

Tonight. When it’s finally just us. No more waiting.

No more holding back. Just the two of us—no barriers, no distance.

I can already feel the weight of her in my arms, the way her laugh will sound in the quiet, the way she’ll look at me when it’s only us and the world fades away.

God help me, I want that moment more than I’ve ever wanted anything. But I’ll wait, only a few more hours.

Her breath brushes my lips, snapping me back to now.

“Technically…” she whispers, a spark of mischief and heat in her tone, “I’m not yours yet.”

Her gaze lifts to meet mine, full of promise and something that makes my knees a little weak. “You’ve still got to walk down that aisle. Say the words. Survive the reception…”

She leans in just enough to make sure I feel the weight of what comes next. “And then, Gray Bennett, I’m all yours.”

She pulls back just enough to flash me that smile—the one that undoes me every single time—and then she turns, lifting the hem of her dress slightly as she heads toward the garden path where Harper and Olivia wait at the edge of the aisle.

And I swear...I almost forget how to breathe.

Every step she takes is like time slowing down. The soft sway of her dress, the breeze catching her hair, the promise in the glance she throws over her shoulder. My chest aches with it.

I drag in a breath and close my eyes for just a second, whispering a prayer deep in my heart. God, thank You for this woman. For this day. For this love.

When I open them, I see my mom.

Waiting off to the side of the aisle, hands clasped, looking more nervous than I feel. I hadn’t known if she’d come. When I’d called—shaky voice, heart pounding—I’d half-expected the usual excuses. But she’d surprised me. She’d said yes. And now here she is .

I walk toward her, my heart pounding in a different way.

“Hey, Mom.”

She looks up at me, eyes misty. “Gray, you look...you look so grown. So good.”

I swallow hard. “You ready?”

She lets out a breathy little laugh. “I should be asking you that.”

I offer my arm. “Walk with me?”

Her fingers tremble as she slides her hand through the crook of my elbow. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

We step onto the aisle together, the sunlight filtering through the trees, the garden alive with soft music and the murmur of guests. As we walk, I feel the weight of everything we’ve come through—the hard years, the silence, the distance. And now this.

At the front, I pause and turn to her.

“Thanks for coming, Mom.”

She squeezes my arm, voice thick. “Thanks for letting me.”

She takes her seat in the front row, and I move to my place at the altar, the breeze lifting my hair, the scent of wildflowers filling the air.

Jack stands at the front, Bible in hand, glasses low on his nose, just like every time we sat across his desk. Except this time…he’s not mentoring me from behind a desk. He’s blessing my future from behind an altar.

Micah claps me on the back as I take my place beside him, grinning. “You sure about this?” he teases.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The music starts.

The aisle is scattered with petals as Ivy’s niece Kate makes her way down, our flower girl in all her determined glory.

Instead of a graceful sprinkle, she tosses them in uneven clumps, drawing a chorus of “ooohs” and “ahhhs” from the guests.

By the time she reaches her mom Sarah, one of Ivy’s bridesmaids, she’s practically running, grinning like she’s conquered the world.

Jack’s expression shifts—reverent, knowing, a little misty-eyed. He’s walked me through every heartbreak, every step of my faith, and now…he’s standing here to witness the answer to every one of those prayers.

“Please stand.”

Chairs scrape, fabric rustles, and the entire room rises, every head turning toward the end of the aisle.

And then I see her.

Her arm is looped through her father’s, her steps unhurried, deliberate.

It’s like the whole world slows just to let me take her in.

The light catches in her hair, her dress brushing softly against the floor, petals scattered unevenly beneath her shoes.

And though I’ve seen her a thousand times, it feels like I’m seeing her for the very first time.

My chest tightens. Because she’s not just the girl walking toward me.

She’s my future. She’s the keys to the new apartment we picked out together, waiting on the counter for us to unlock.

She’s quiet mornings with no curfew, no boundaries to tiptoe around—just the freedom to be hers completely.

She’s laughter filling empty rooms, arguments about where the couch should go, whispered prayers before bed.

She’s every ache I’ve carried finally answered in flesh and bone and beauty.

I blink hard, trying to keep it together, but my eyes sting anyway.

Her gaze locks with mine, and the crowd, the music, even Jack’s voice fade into nothing. It’s just me and her. My heart pounding, hers steady as she draws closer .

When she finally reaches me, her father gives me her hand, and I grip it like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. Because, it is.

Jack opens his Bible, his deep voice steady as he begins.

“Today isn’t just a celebration,” he says. “It’s a covenant. Not built on perfection, but on grace. On two people who dared to believe that God’s best was worth the wait.”

He looks straight at me, and his voice softens.

“Gray, you once asked me how to lead someone in faith without trying to control them. And Ivy…” He glances at her, eyes twinkling. “You’ve answered that question better than I ever could. Today is proof of what surrender can do.”

Then he smiles, flipping to a passage from Ephesians.

“‘Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ…Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.”

He blesses our vows.

And then I say mine.

"Ivy Taylor…

I used to think love was about doing everything right. Saying the perfect thing. Being strong enough to hold someone else together.

But then you showed me it’s about showing up.

Even when it’s hard.

Especially when it’s hard.

You taught me that grace isn’t something I give, it’s something I live.

I didn’t know what God was doing the day I stood there in New Orleans…

But He knew.

Because He gave me you .

I promise to keep praying for you, pursuing you, and pointing you to Jesus every single day.

I promise to listen more than I speak, to hold your hand when you’re scared, and to celebrate every win like it’s the best day of our lives.

I promise to lead with humility, love without conditions, and laugh at every single ridiculous thing you say because let’s be real, there’ll be a lot.

You’re the best yes I’ve ever had.

And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt it.”

She wipes a tear and smiles up at me, voice trembling but sure.

"Gray Bennett…

You weren’t the plan.

You were the surprise.

The grace I didn’t know I could receive.

The steady voice in the chaos.

The hand I wasn’t afraid to hold.

Even when I was terrified of falling.

You loved me when I didn’t feel lovable.

You prayed for me when I didn’t know how.

And you never rushed me, even when it would’ve been easier to walk away.

I used to think faith was about being perfect.

Now I know it’s about being loved anyway.

So today, I vow to love you that same way, flawed and full of grace.

I promise to believe in what God is doing in you and in us, even when the road gets hard .

To show up, speak truth, and stay rooted in what matters most.

And I promise to always, always choose you,

The man who dared me to believe in love and in Jesus.

You’re my answered prayer, Gray.

And my forever favorite miracle.”

And when Jack says, “Gray Bennett, you may now kiss your bride,” I swear the sky gets a little brighter.

I look at her—my wife—and time slows down.

“I love you,” I whisper. My eyes lock onto hers, and I lean in just enough that only she can hear the next part. “And I can’t wait to show you just how much...the second we’re alone.”

Her breath catches, and for a beat, she just looks at me—like I’m the only person in the world. Then that smile breaks across her face, slow and radiant, like the sun itself lives in her.

And that’s when I kiss her—because I can’t go one more second without doing it.

Slow and tender at first, like we’re both savoring the moment we’ve waited so long for. Her lips are soft, warm, familiar and new all at once. My hands find her waist, pulling her gently closer, like I’m anchoring myself in this single breath of forever.

Her hands slide up, fingertips threading into the back of my hair, then resting at my neck—steadying me, claiming me.

And in this kiss, I taste every promise we’ve made. Every prayer. Every piece of the journey that brought us here.

But then, as the cheers erupt around us and I pull back, breathless, I can't help myself .

I grin and say, “One more for the road.”

And I dip her—full swoop, like we’re in a movie—and kiss her again, deeper this time, with all the joy, passion, and forever I’ve been holding in.

She laughs into my mouth, and the sound just wrecks me—in the best way.

We rise together, hearts pounding, and as I lace our fingers, she squeezes my hand tight.

We walk down the aisle, husband and wife, through a tunnel of cheers and camera flashes, faces full of love and sunlight, the breeze lifting the veil behind her like wings.

And I think, This is it.

This is the start of every good thing.