Page 20 of Save Me (The Midnight Cove #2)

AMY

G unner looks hot as fuck standing up there as Ash's best man. Emma was beautiful as she walked down the aisle, but my gaze can't move from Gunner. He looks at me as the two of them say their vows.

His arm is in a sling, but hopefully in two weeks he'll be able to go back to work.

I've had a good time taking care of him, and I've been staying with him since we brought him home from the hospital, but with him going back to work, I'm going to have to move back to Eve's so that life can get back to normal.

This is the first time I'm admitting to myself, I don't want that. I want to be with him. To live with him and share our lives together.

The reception is buzzing with laughter and conversation when I finally make it inside the old fire station. The space has been transformed with string lights and white tablecloths.

Gunner's already at our table, looking impossibly handsome in his charcoal gray suit despite the sling. His eyes light up when he sees me, and he stands to pull out my chair with his good hand.

"You clean up nice, firefighter," I murmur as he leans down to kiss my cheek.

"Not too shabby yourself, sweetheart."

The evening flows by in a blur of dinner and toasts, but all I can focus on is the way Gunner's thumb traces circles on my hand where it rests on the table. Every touch sends electricity through me, and the weight of my earlier realization sits heavy in my chest.

When the DJ announces the first dance for the bride and groom, I watch Emma and Ash move together like they were made for each other. The love radiating from them is almost tangible.

"Dance with me?" Gunner's voice is soft in my ear.

I turn to find him standing beside my chair, his good hand extended. "Can you manage it with your arm?"

"I'll manage anything if it means holding you."

The dance floor is already crowded with other couples when we join them. Gunner pulls me close, his injured arm resting gently against my lower back while our joined hands settle near his heart. We move slowly, barely swaying to the music.

"Amy," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "I've been thinking..."

My heart stutters. "About what?"

"About you going back to Eve's when I return to work." He looks down at me, his eyes intense. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't go back. Move in with me. Really move in. Not just while I'm recovering, but because you want to be there. Because you want to build something with me."

The words I've been holding back all evening tumble out. "I was hoping you'd ask. I don't want normal anymore, Gunner. I want messy and beautiful and you."

His smile could power the entire town. "Is that a yes?"

"That's a hell yes."

He spins me carefully, mindful of his sling, and I laugh as other couples dodge around us. When he pulls me back against him, his lips brush my temple.

"Good, because I already started clearing out closet space."

"Presumptuous much?"

"Hopeful," he corrects, his voice dropping to that gravelly tone that makes my knees weak.

The song ends, but we keep swaying until the DJ's voice cuts through our bubble. "All right, gentlemen, it's time for the garter toss!"

Ash is already in the center of the dance floor, looking slightly embarrassed as Emma sits in a chair beside him, hiking up her wedding dress with a mischievous grin. The single men gather behind Ash, and I give Gunner a gentle push toward the group.

"Go on, one-armed wonder. Show them how it's done."

He chuckles and joins the crowd, though he stays toward the back. When Ash flings the blue garter over his shoulder, it sails directly toward Gunner. Without thinking, he reaches up with his good hand and snatches it out of the air.

The crowd erupts in cheers and wolf whistles. Gunner holds up the garter with a shit-eating grin, his eyes finding mine across the room.

"Ladies!" the DJ calls. "Time for the bouquet toss!"

My stomach flutters as I reluctantly join the group of single women. Emma winks at me as she turns around, raising the bouquet high.

"Ready?" she calls over her shoulder.

The bouquet arcs through the air in a perfect spiral, and instinct takes over. I reach up and catch it cleanly, the silk roses and baby's breath soft against my palms.

The women around me cheer and pat my back, but all I can see is Gunner pushing through the crowd toward me, the garter still dangling from his finger.

When he reaches me, he cups my face with his free hand, his thumb stroking across my cheekbone.

"Well, would you look at that," he says, his voice low and intimate despite the crowd around us. "Maybe this is a good luck charm. Maybe that means we're next."

My breath catches. "Next for what, exactly?"

His smile is slow and devastating. "Everything, sweetheart. The whole damn fairy tale."

Before I can respond, he kisses me right there in front of everyone, and the crowd goes wild. But all I can hear is the thundering of my heart and the whispered promise of forever in the way his lips move against mine.

When we finally break apart, both of us breathless, he rests his forehead against mine.

"Take me home, Gunner," I whisper. "Take me to our home."

His eyes darken with heat and promise. "With pleasure, future fire wife."

The nickname sends a shiver of anticipation through me, and I realize that some love stories don't just end with happily ever after—they begin with it.