Page 54 of Dare to Hold (Dare To Love #1)

Ivy

The courtyard glows with string lights overhead, casting everything in soft gold. Tables draped in ivory linen shimmer beneath the candlelight, and the scent of jasmine floats through the New Orleans air, sweet and heady, like the night itself is celebrating with us.

Gray’s hand is still wrapped around mine, he hasn’t let go since we walked back down that aisle, and I don’t think I ever want him to.

The reception is small, cozy, full of everyone who matters.

I spot Harper wiping tears with a napkin that’s probably ruined by now.

Olivia’s got her phone up, recording like her life depends on it.

And Micah, he’s standing off to the side, smiling that knowing, quiet smile, like he’s watching a prayer come true.

We’re tucked together at the sweetheart table now, and I can feel him looking at me. I glance over, catch his gaze, and blush because—Lord help me—he hasn’t stopped staring since the vows.

I whisper, “Stop staring,” but I don’t mean it .

“Never,” he whispers, his thumb brushing over my knuckles.

And I swear, in this moment, I’ve never felt more cherished.

The clinking of glasses starts, and Harper stands on a chair, champagne flute in hand.

“Okay, okay, listen up!” she calls out, already beaming. “I’d like to make the first toast.”

Everyone laughs.

She raises her glass. “To Ivy, my best friend since forever, and to Gray, who somehow managed to win over the stranger who grabbed his hand right there in New Orleans on a dare.” More laughter. Gray shoots me a sideways look, grinning.

“But really,” Harper continues, her voice softening, “watching you two grow together has been one of the greatest joys of my life. You’re not just cute—you’re faithful, intentional, and real.

Ivy, I’ve never seen you shine like this.

And Gray…thank you for loving her the way we always hoped someone would. To the happy couple!”

Olivia stands up next. “I wasn’t going to say anything,” she says, clearly emotional, “but I can’t not.

Ivy, I’m proud of you. Not just for finding love—but for finding you.

And for letting us all be a part of it. You inspire me more than you know.

And Gray…thanks for being patient. You’re a good man. And now you’re stuck with us.”

Next up is Micah, Gray’s best man, who grins as he taps his glass and says, “I knew this guy was in trouble the minute he came back from New Orleans and didn’t talk about the music...but about a girl.”

Everyone laughs again, applauding mid speech.

Micah lifts his glass. “To the ones who wait on God, to the ones brave enough to stay when it’s hard, and to the love that makes it all worth it. Cheers to Gray and Ivy.”

The chatter and laughter fade as the DJ’s voice comes through the speakers, warm and inviting.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention...it’s time for the new Mr. and Mrs. Bennett’s first dance.”

A gentle cheer ripples through the courtyard, and the opening notes of our song float into the night air—soft, slow, and achingly familiar.

Gray rises, his hand already extended toward me, that grin I love tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“May I have this dance, Mrs. Bennett?”

My heart flips at the sound of it. “Only if you never stop calling me that,” I tease, slipping my hand into his.

He pulls me close, guiding me onto the dance floor. The world blurs around us, the candles, the string lights, the faces of everyone we love—until all I can see is him.

His hand presses gently at the small of my back, guiding me as we move together, slow and easy, like we’ve done this a hundred times. Like we were made for it.

The music swells, and Gray leans in, his lips brushing just below my ear, his breath warm against my skin.

“You have no idea what it’s taking for me not to kiss you breathless right here in front of everyone,” he whispers, his voice low, sending a shiver down my spine.

I draw in a shaky breath, my fingers curling at his shoulder.

His thumb traces soft, slow circles at my waist. “Every second tonight, all I’m thinking about is how I get to make you mine.”

My heart races, my pulse singing beneath his touch.

“And later,” he murmurs, his lips grazing my temple, “ when it’s just us...I’m going to show you exactly what that means.”

I lean in, my lips barely brushing his ear as I whisper, playful but breathless, “I genuinely can’t wait to find out if those tattoos are in places I haven’t seen yet.”

Gray freezes for half a second—then lets out a laugh, warm and unrestrained, his forehead dropping to mine like I’ve just undone him completely.

“Oh, they are, Ivy,” he says, his grin wide and a little mischievous. “And now all I’m going to be thinking about is how fun it’s gonna be showing you.”

My cheeks burn, my heart soaring, and we both dissolve into quiet laughter, wrapped up in each other as the music carries us to the end of the dance.

As the music softens toward its final notes, something shifts in him. His hand moves to cradle my face, his forehead resting against mine, his breath mingling with mine as if we’re sharing the same air.

His voice lowers again, this time tender, reverent. “I love you, Ivy. More than I ever thought possible. And I promise you—I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it.”

The world seems to still, the applause and flicker of candles a soft blur behind us.

I whisper back, tears bright in my eyes. “And I’ll spend mine loving you right back.”

And in that quiet, sacred beat before the world presses in again, he kisses me—slow, gentle, full of every promise wrapped inside forever.

The music picks up, something upbeat that gets half the crowd on their feet. Gray presses a kiss to my temple and lets me go reluctantly, heading toward the guys gathering by the dessert table.

I don’t make it two steps before I hear it—Harper’s voice, sharp but low, followed by Micah’s steady, maddeningly calm one.

I glance over to see them standing off to the side near the drink station, Harper’s hands on her hips, Micah looking like he’s trying hard not to smile at whatever she’s fuming about.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I grab Olivia’s hand. “Come on. We’re saving her from herself.”

We weave through the crowd and reach them just as Harper’s muttering, “You are impossible.”

Micah crosses his arms, looking way too amused. “And yet, here you are.”

I slide between them, my tone light. “Okay, okay—time out. Harper, breathe. Micah, go… refill your tea or something.”

Micah gives me a nod, that signature smirk lingering on his lips, and strolls off, leaving Harper glaring at his retreating back.

Olivia raises a brow. “Do I want to know what that was about?”

“No,” Harper snaps. “You don’t.”

I exchange a look with Olivia, and the mischief sparks before I can stop it.

“You know what, Harper?” I say, crossing my arms. “It’s your turn for a dare.”

Harper groans. “Ivy. No.”

“Oh yes,” Olivia says, grinning now .

“I dare you,” I say, drawing it out, “to go dance with Micah.”

Her jaw drops. “You’re kidding.”

I shake my head, enjoying this far too much.

“That may be even more harsh than daring me to go to church,” Olivia says, laughing.

Harper looks like she’s torn between fighting me and running for the hills. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“Yup.” I nudge her forward. “Go. One song. You’ve got this.”

She mutters under her breath but finally squares her shoulders and heads toward Micah, who looks up just in time to see her coming—and the surprise and satisfaction that flickers across his face is all the confirmation I need.

Olivia leans close, watching them. “This is going to be so good.”

I smile, heart full. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Harper and Micah make their way to the edge of the dance floor, and Olivia and I stay back, watching like two nosy aunts at a family reunion.

“They’re so awkward,” Olivia mutters, her arms crossed, though there’s a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“I know,” I whisper back, trying not to laugh. “Look at the way she won’t even meet his eyes.”

“And look at him,” Olivia adds, tilting her head. “He looks like he’s trying to figure out how not to step on her feet.”

They move stiffly, keeping just enough distance between them that it looks less like a dance and more like a middle school slow song. I bite my lip, trying to hold back the giggles threatening to burst out .

“This is painful,” Olivia says, shaking her head. “We need to look away before we make it worse.”

We shift our gaze toward the candlelit tables, the twinkle lights blurring softly in the background. The music hums around us, the crowd chatting, clinking glasses, living in the moment.

After a beat, Olivia sighs. “You know what’s dumb? I keep telling myself I’m fine, that I’m happy for you. And I am, really. But watching you and Gray… sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever have that.”

I glance at her, heart aching a little at the vulnerability in her voice. “You will. And maybe…maybe you could even start by praying about it.”

She stiffens beside me. I see it happen—the way her jaw tightens, her fingers curl into her palm, the guard going up like armor.

“Liv, I didn’t mean to?—”

“No,” she says quickly, exhaling, clearing the storm in her eyes before it spills out in words she’ll regret. “You know what? Never mind. I just… I need you to show me the same grace you keep saying Gray gave you. I’m trying, okay? But I’m not ready for that, Ivy.”

I go quiet, letting her speak, letting her heart open.

“I have a past with the church. I used to go every Sunday when I was a kid. And then… everything fell apart. I don’t know what I believe in anymore. But you and Harper have to stop pushing me. I’m trying. I really am.”

Without thinking, I pull her into a hug, tight and full of love, no words needed.

She lets me, her arms finally relaxing around me.

And that’s when Harper stomps up, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing.

“We’re going to the bar,” she announces, grabbing Olivia’s wrist like a lifeline. “You—” she points at me, half laughing, half fuming—“are going to go dance with your husband again before I never forgive you for that stupid dare.”

I hold up my hands in surrender, grinning. “Yes, ma’am.”

Harper shoots me a look as she drags Olivia away, and I catch the soft grin Olivia gives me over her shoulder—one that says thanks for understanding.

And as the music rises around me again, I head back toward the man waiting for me on the dance floor, my heart full of hope.

Only…when I spot him, my heart isn’t the only thing full—my lungs are full of laughter I’m trying, and failing, to hold in.

Gray stands at the edge of the dance floor, grinning like a kid at a carnival.

He’s somehow acquired a neon green glow stick necklace and another glow stick looped around his head like a crown.

In his hands? A pretend fishing pole—okay, it’s actually just one of the glow sticks he’s twirling like it’s a rod.

I stop in my tracks, watching as he casts his imaginary line toward me. With exaggerated concentration, he mimes reeling it in, tugging dramatically.

“Got one!” he calls, loud enough for the nearest guests to turn and grin. “It’s a fighter, but she’s mine!”

I play along, staggering forward like I’ve got no choice in the matter, giggling the whole way.

When I reach him, he tosses the glow stick “pole” aside and loops his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

“Caught the best catch of the night,” he says, eyes dancing .

I shake my head, laughing, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you said I do.”

“Best decision I ever made.”

The night air in New Orleans wraps around us like a warm whisper as we slip away from the celebration. My fingers are laced through Gray’s, my dress catching in the breeze as I kick off my heels and let them dangle from my hand.

I’m still laughing about something Harper said during her toast, but mostly I’m floating—because I can feel the way he’s watching me. Like I’m the only thing in his world.

Like I’m his.

We reach the hotel, the soft hum of the lobby fading as Gray swipes the key card. The door clicks open, but before I can take a step inside, he sweeps me up into his arms.

A surprised laugh bubbles out. “Gray!”

He grins, that smile that always undoes me. “I believe this is tradition.”

My arms loop around his neck as he carries me over the threshold, and suddenly, it’s just us.

Candlelight flickers across the suite, soft and golden. Rose petals are scattered on the bed, like the room’s been dressed in every love song he’s ever played for me.

He sets me down slowly, gently, and my heart races as I look up at him. His eyes find mine and stay there—steady, sure, full of so much love I can barely breathe.

“So what now, husband?” I whisper, my voice trembling with joy .

Gray steps closer, his fingers brushing down my arms until he’s holding my hands. “Now?” His voice dips low, playful, teasing. “Now I get to kiss my wife without a crowd watching.”

My breath catches.

His lips meet mine, soft at first—then deeper, hungrier, until we’re both breathless and clinging to each other like we can’t get close enough.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, his smile soft and sure.

“I hope you know,” he murmurs, “I plan on loving you like this every day for the rest of my life.”

I tilt my head, that teasing spark rising. “Even when I steal the blankets?”

His laugh rumbles low. “Especially then.”

Before I can say another word, he scoops me up again, carrying me toward the bed. My laughter spills out, wrapping around us like a promise.

And just before he kicks the bedroom door shut behind us, he meets my gaze—eyes warm, full of love, and just a little wicked.

“Brace yourself, Mrs. Bennett. The honeymoon starts now.”