Page 89 of If You Claim Me

It feels like it takes eleven years for the bridal party to make it down the aisle.

“How you feeling?” Flip pats my hand.

“Nervous.”

“We can dip if you need to. No questions asked.”

I look up at him and repeat the same thing I said to Lexi. “I don’t want to run.” That’s the part that makes me the most nervous.

“I know. I was kidding.” He squeezes my arm. “The way he was looking at you last night… He sees what the rest of us do.”

I’m afraid to hope he’s right, just as much as I’m afraid of the flutter in my stomach upon hearing that from my best friend.

The “Wedding March” begins—of course there’s a harpist, because why wouldn’t there be? It’s the most beautiful wedding I’ve ever seen, and it’s mine.

Flip takes a deep breath. “All right, Dred, let’s get you married to the sandwich fucker.”

I bark out a laugh, then choke the sound as we step around the corner. “Oh my God, there are so many people.” Every seat is filled. Panic takes hold, and my mouth goes dry as cameras flash.

“It’s okay. I got you. He’s waiting for you. Eyes on Connor and nowhere else,” Flip murmurs.

“Eyes on Connor,” I repeat, and I can’t stop the wide, genuine grin that breaks across my face when I find him. The groomsmen are all dressed in black, but Connor is wearing a deep maroon tux, and he is glorious. He looks every part the defiant billionaire’s son. Regal, arrogant, unflappable.

His eyes spark when they meet mine, and he echoes my smile.

We’re in this together.

I stay focused on the only thing that matters, keeping my promise to the man waiting for me at the altar. Flip grounds me, and Connor’s promise carries me down the aisle.

When we reach Connor, I turn to Flip. “Thank you for being my best friend. I love you.”

“I love you right back.” He kisses me on the cheek and transfers my hand to Connor’s.

They exchange a look, and Connor nods in deference. “I promise I’ll take care of her.”

Flip sits in the front row with the rest of the Terror crew. I smile and wink at Everly and Victor, who are sitting in the middle of them with a couple of my colleagues and Cordelia from the group home. They seem completely awestruck. Meems sits on the other side with Connor’s parents and brothers-in-law. She’s beaming, and my heart swells and breaks at the same time, because I’ve fallen completely in love with her in the short weeks since Connor and I made this pact.

Connor’s wide, warm hand curves around mine, pulling my gaze back to him as I move into position.

“You take my breath away,” he murmurs.

“You’re trying to upstage me with this tux.”

He winks. “I could never.”

“But you tried.”

We both smile, and it feels…right somehow that this serious, broody man is making jokes with me at the altar.

Lexi steps in to take my bouquet of night lilies, and we give our attention to the officiant, who looks slightly amused as hebegins the ceremony. Connor’s hands around mine and the warmth in his eyes ground me.This is really it.I’m binding my life to his—at least for now.

Connor holds my gaze, expression earnest as he says his vows. “Mildred Reformer, I vow, from this day forward, to put you first in all things, to cherish every moment with you, to give you comfort, to show you with words and actions that you are the most important person in my world. Your happiness is my happiness, your needs are my needs. I promise to take care of you, to honor you, and to give your heart the home it deserves with me, until death parts us.”

The weight of his words settles in my heart, and I recite my own vows. “Connor Grace, you are the most incredible, loyal man. You love deeply, without reservation, and with inspiring conviction. I promise to cherish that love, to stand beside you and support you. It is an honor to give my heart to you and be claimed by you, until death parts us.”

His eyes glimmer with satisfaction.

Connor is a steady counterpart to my shaking hands as we exchange rings. And then we’re pronounced man and wife.