Page 51

SIX MONTHS LATER

“You look gorgeous,” Juliette said, her eyes filling with tears as she adjusted my veil. My hair was longer now and back to its natural caramel color. Earlier today, Kassie and Lehra had set my locks in natural-looking curls that bounced around my shoulders while Gianna had done my makeup.

“Thank you for being here. It means the world to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like I would be anywhere else when my bestie from the nestie gets married.”

I laughed at the nickname from when we were kids at summer camp. “I know we’ve been married for years, but this feels special, having an actual wedding in front of all our family and friends.”

“It’s cool that you’re doing it on New Year’s Day since that was your original anniversary.” Her big eyes sparkled as the door opened behind her.

Our other friends Holly and Arya entered the hotel room, followed by Madalynn and Emersyn, who were arguing. As usual.

“No way McDreamy’s penis is bigger than McSteamy’s,” Mady was saying. “McSteamy is just so… hot.”

“Hot doesn’t translate to the size of the man’s junk,” her twin argued back.

“That’s true,” Holly threw in. “Some of the ugliest guys I’ve been with had huge cocks.”

Arya shook her head and lowered her brows. “How does that even happen? Like, how do you end up in bed with an ugly guy?”

Holly shrugged and took a sip of her champagne. “Mostly dares but sometimes alcohol. Not every man looks like the men Juli writes in her books. Ugly guys deserve love too.”

“But you married a handsome guy,” Mady pointed out.

“Well, yeah,” she said in a duh tone. “If I’ve got to look at him every day, might as well pick someone pretty.”

We all laughed at Holly’s feigned shallowness because she was so madly in love with her husband, Bubba. Who also happened to be Juliette’s brother.

Juli also still lived in Texas and was, of course, a romance author. Arya had gone to medical school and was now an internist in California. Emersyn worked in their family business, and her eyebrows no longer resembled caterpillars.

And Madalynn Papadopoulos? Well, no one really knew what Mady did. She had graduated from college, but now she flitted around the world with a series of sugar daddies who all seemed to know about each other and were surprisingly okay with it. It was bizarre.

This wasn’t the first time we’d seen each other since I’d come out of hiding. I’d made sure to call each of them the morning of the press conference so they wouldn’t have to hear that I was alive on the news. Then we’d all gone on a retreat together—not to Mexico, thank you very much—in July. We’d spent the week together in our Florida home and reconnected.

“Time to get you dressed, Miss Bride,” Juliette announced, handing me a tall flute of champagne. “Finish this off because you’re not going to want to spill anything on your fabulous dress.”

I drained the glass, letting the clear pink bubbles dance across my tongue before following Juli into the bedroom. Ten minutes and about eight-thousand buttons later, I emerged in the most gorgeous dress ever made. It was made of a lustrous ivory Baronet satin that seemed to flow in waves down the full princess skirt. The bodice was fitted with long lace sleeves that gave a peek of skin beneath.

“Damn,” Emersyn said as she fanned her eyes to hold back tears. “If I ever get married again, I want your brother to design my dress. You look stunning.”

Mady smiled and took my hand. “Makes me almost want to get married,” she said and then emphasized, “ Almost .”

“Let’s all take a picture together,” Arya suggested. “With Evie and our tattoos.”

“Mine is on my ass,” Holly pointed out.

“Then hike up your skirt, woman. Let’s go. We’ve got a wedding to attend.” Arya set up the camera and everyone gathered around me and bared their ink, mostly on arms or ankles, but yes, Holly’s was indeed on her backside. The matching tattoos were of a lilac with a script E in the center. They’d all gotten them on the one year anniversary of my disappearance. My tears had flowed for a solid hour after they’d shown them to me back in July.

“Wow, look at that,” Holly said, looking at the picture on Arya's phone, all of us smiling—and her mooning the camera. “I know all of you are going to want to get this blown up so you can have my butt plastered across your living rooms.”

“Told you that you should have gotten it on your shoulder,” Mady sang. “But nooooo, you insisted.”

“Okay, cool it. Go sit down,” I ordered, kissing all of them on their cheeks. Except for Juli. As my maid of honor, she was staying with me until my dad came to get me. I’d wanted to make all of them bridesmaids, as well as my sisters-in-law, Gianna, Kassie, and Lehra. And Charlisse. But nine bridesmaids would have been a bit much, so Dane and I had decided to just have one attendant each.

Though I did ask all of them to wear a lilac dress so they would stand out as special when they sat near the front of the ballroom.

Fiero would be standing up for Dane. He’d hidden out in Florida while the dust settled before moving back to New York. For about a month. And then he’d hightailed it back to the Keys with the excuse that he missed the beach, though we all knew it was a certain beautiful blonde that had drawn him back. I’d asked Charlisse what was going on with them once, and she claimed they were keeping it casual. But I saw how they looked at each other.

The girls left, but a second later, Mady popped her head back in the door and hissed, “Dear. God. The Bouvier men are coming this way down the corridor, and I’m pretty sure tuxedos were invented especially for them.”

“I’m gonna run so you can have time with your family,” Juliette said, pushing a small pack of tissues into my hand.

“Thank you for everything, Juli.”

“Hey, it’s the least I could do for my favorite ARC reader.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe you were under my nose the whole time.”

“I wish I could have told you. I wanted to support you every way I could, even if you didn’t know.”

“I’m not mad,” she said, hugging me once more. “Love you, babe.”

“Love you back.” And then she skipped from the room. I seriously adored Juliette McNamara. She was like sunshine for the soul.

When my dad and brothers entered my suite a few seconds later, I saw exactly what Mady meant. They looked phenomenally handsome in black tuxedos and lilac bow ties.

I held the pack of tissues up and narrowed my eyes at them. “I do not want to have to use these, so don’t you dare make me cry.” Tossing them on the table, I pointed at my eyes. “Gianna did my makeup, and I don’t want to mess it up, so don’t be all sweet and shit.”

Cruz reached me first, giving me a careful hug. “You look kind of okay, sis.” That made me giggle.

“Agreed,” Monty said, stepping in for his turn. “You look very okay. I totally kicked ass on this dress design, by the way.”

“You did,” I agreed with a grin.

Auburn reached me next and gave me a soft peck on the cheek. “As the best looking sibling, I have to say, you’re a close second, Evie.”

“Gosh, you’re too kind,” I told him, sarcasm heavy in my tone.

“You asked for it,” he said, amused.

Dad looked on patiently, hands in the pockets of his well-tailored pants, until my brothers were finished. Then he stepped forward and handed over my bouquet. It was made of fresh white roses with tiny pearls and sprigs of lilac laced between the fragrant blooms.

“I had the florist nestle the flower you gave me in the middle.” He pointed at the dried rose I had kept from our impromptu wedding in Treviso.

“It’s perfect,” I told him, hugging him hard and kissing his smooth cheek. He smelled like sandalwood and home.

“All joking aside, you’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen, Evie. I’m so happy for you.”

Annnd cue the waterworks. Dad quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed delicately at my tears.

“Way to go, Dad,” Auburn teased. “You made her cry.”

Our father smiled, his own eyes gentle and watery. “I couldn’t help it. She’s my baby girl.” He pulled me close, and we swayed in place for a long moment.

In the distance, the music changed, and Cruz said, “I think it’s time to go.” Flanked by my brothers and holding my father’s arm, we walked the short distance to the ballroom entrance. I felt surrounded and loved. Each of my brothers kissed the back of my hand before taking their seats inside beside their significant others and children.

A few months ago, Gianna had given birth to a little girl who they named Nancy after Gia’s late mother. Kassie and Monty’s daughter, Annabelle, was born a week later. Jaxon, Jane, and Sully were all thriving as the “big siblings.” Lehra and Cruz would be marrying later this year, and I was pretty sure they both had baby fever, so it was only a matter of time till they had their own bundle of joy.

Our close-knit family was certainly growing, and if Dane had anything to do with it, we’d be adding one more member about nine months after our honeymoon in Treviso. I hoped so too. Paulie was an energetic and outgoing fifteen-month old, and we’d both love to give him a sibling who was pretty close in age.

The wedding planner opened the wide wooden door, and Dad and I stepped into the ballroom, which had been transformed into my dream wedding. I’d wanted real candles rather than the fairy lights that were so popular these days. I loved the traditional look of candles, and the planner had certainly come through. There were hundreds of votives, tapers, tea lights, and pillars, all made of beeswax, which gave the room a warm glow and a sweet aroma that was reminiscent of honey… Dane’s favorite scent.

All eyes turned toward us, and I looked up at Dad. His chest was puffed to almost twice its normal size. “Ready to get more married?” he asked under his breath, and I grinned. Dane and I had considered ourselves married for years, but today we were making it truly legal in front of our friends and family.

“Let’s do it,” I said back, and we started walking down the aisle. Dane stood before me on the low, white-carpeted stage in a black tuxedo with velvet lapels. He looked damn edible with his dark hair skimming his broad shoulders. And that devastating smile of his was directed right at me.

Though my eyes were on my groom, from my peripheral vision, I saw the crew from Florida, including Robert and Jamie, the folks from the bakery, and my hospital coworkers. Rodrigo, the man who had been with Dane the night he rescued me, was smiling from the middle of the crowd, and Cooper was in the third row. He’d gotten a short leave from the Army and surprised us last night. My family and college friends took up the first two rows with our son sitting on Stella’s lap. He blew me a kiss and yelled, “Hi, Mommy!”

Everyone laughed, and I leaned down for a quick kiss. “Hi, Paulie. Be a good boy for Yaya, okay?” He nodded and snuggled close to my father’s wife. Dad and Stella had surprised everyone by eloping to Vegas one weekend, and all of us were ecstatic about it. They should have been together decades ago, but at least they’d found their way back together now.

We reached the front, and Dad kissed my cheek and shook Dane’s hand before taking his seat beside Stella in the front row. My handsome groom and I faced Father Benedict, who was the priest who had “married” us in Treviso. Dane had managed to track him down and flew him to New York for our wedding.

With heavily accented English, the man performed our ceremony, and Dane and I exchanged vows. I didn’t cry a bit. I was too busy smiling because this was a joyous occasion.

We both ended our vows with the words that were inscribed on the inside of my ring. As I said them to my husband, his fingers danced up my forearm, and I knew he was picturing the ink beneath my lace sleeve. It was my very first tattoo and was a peacock feather that matched the one on his arm. On the central vein of the feather, the tattoo artist had written in small scripty letters: In the light and in the darkness… I choose you.

“Did you know that female peacocks are called peahens?” I asked so only Dane could hear.

He chuckled and kissed the tip of my nose. “I love your brain.”

I rested my hands on his cheeks. “I love your face.”

With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he said, “Well, I love your—”

Pressing a finger to his lips, I giggled. “Save it for the honeymoon, Dracula.”

When Father Benedict declared that Dane could kiss his bride, he dipped me for a long kiss, just like he had in Treviso, and all the women in the room let out a collective sigh. Yeah, my man was pretty damn swoonworthy.

Then he lifted me upright and held my waist, his pretty brown eyes fixed on mine. “I love you, wife.”

“And I love you, husband.”

Father Benedict gently turned us until we were facing the congregation, and with his Italian accent, announced, “I present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Dane and Evie Bouvier.”

Yes, my husband took my family’s last name. He knew how much it meant to me, and he wanted Paulie to grow up as a Bouvier. We had our son’s name legally changed to Paul Augustus Bouvier last week. Someone from Kassie’s office had handled that, as well as untangling all the legal complications related to Dane and I using aliases for almost eighteen years.

As we walked hand in hand up the plush white aisle, Dane stopped and scooped up Paulie in one arm. Everyone cheered, and our son looked delighted, waving with both hands like he was getting his own personal standing ovation. He was seriously the cutest dang kid ever.

We made our way up the aisle and past the rows of tall taper candles that glowed on either side of the door, and I knew, from this day forward, the light would always outweigh the dark.

Because we chose each other.

Because we chose love .

THE END

Thank you all for reading this book and the others in the Bouvier Family Saga. It has truly been my honor to write these characters, and I'm a little sad this series is done. If you are too and would like another little taste of the Bouviers, you're in luck. I'm so happy to announce that some of them will make cameo appearances in my new standalone book, which is Juliette McNamara's story.