Page 47 of The Fates We Tame

Catalina hugs me. “Good. Because I really want to fix that hair of yours before you go marry your fiancé.”

I laugh at that. “Like I said, it’s been a rough day.”

13

SWITCH

Saint marries us.

He’s the closest thing we ever had to a real preacher, apparently, but I stand there with Sophia, who looks real fucking pretty in the dress Catalina brought for her. It’s red. Catalina told me it was red wool and silk shantung, though I have no fucking clue what that is. It has thin straps and a fitted bodice that hugs her perfectly, then flares out over her hips.

She’s wearing a cute pair of ballet slippers in nude with a little strap. I’m glad Cat or Niro saw the mobility issues she had and bought her something she’s comfortable in.

When Catalina had taken her to the courthouse bathroom to get ready, King produced two rings, one a magnificent diamond, and told me that with the dress, I owed the club twenty-five thousand dollars.

Then my brothers burst out laughing, saying it served me right for marrying a woman I barely know.

The wild thing is, I feel like I do know her, even as I realize how ridiculous that sounds.

No one could look better in that Dior dress than Sophia. Especially when she smiles up at me. I like her eyes on me. I like the way she’s so much smaller than me.

And when she first walked back out into the hallway, her hair in a pretty knot thing and red lipstick on her lips, she could have knocked me on my ass.

“I, Theo, take you, Sophia, to be my wife,” I say, following Saint’s lead.

In a moment of quick thinking, when Saint asked for our full names for the service, Sophia jumped in and suggested we didn’t want anything so formal. Otherwise, the club would have immediately known who she was.

I’m holding Sophia’s hands. Dressed in my cut with a clean white shirt Niro picked up for me while shopping for Sophia. I don’t know how I know it but wearing my cut for this feels right. At some point in the future, I’m going to remember my life with the club or make a new one. And it will matter. I can’t even explain how I know this either.

Because Sophia and I need each other.

We fit.

In this room, at this moment, given who I now am, Sophia is the one who knows me best.

The ring is somehow a perfect fit and looks so incredible on her finger, I don’t give a fuck how much it cost.

Wish I could have waited for Mom to be here so she could see this, but I can’t wait to make her day and deal with the fake fury she’ll put me through first before she smiles and tells me I made her year. Then she’ll either cry or ask for ovulation dates, the way she’s banging on about grandkids.

Kids?

Fuck me.

I focus back on how Sophia’s hand feels in mine. She confided in me as we walked into the room Clutch securedfor us that the dress revealed more of her scars than she was comfortable with.

So, I kissed ‘em, right there in front of my brothers. I mean, if you can’t kiss your wife and be comfortable with it, why bother?

Finally, Saint slides his phone back in his pocket. “Don’t need that anymore because we all know what happens next. You may now kiss your bride.”

I slide my hand around Sophia’s neck and kiss her with more heat than I have before as the other Outlaws clap mutedly.

My tongue brushes hers, and she moans softly.

The brothers are uncertain, I know. They can’t decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Or whether it is going to bring harm to the club, even though they can’t yet see the underlying threat because I haven’t made it clear.

At some point, I’ll have to tell them the truth. And they are going to be furious.

But for now, I savor the feel of Sophia’s body pressed against mine, the way I have to bend to kiss her.