Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Since Layla doesn’t have a bunch of girlfriends, she didn’t do a wedding party. She has Kaylee as her maid of honor, and my dad is my best man. Since her dad passed away, she’s asked my dad to walk her down the aisle. The music starts, and Felix comes out first since he’s the ring bearer. He’s dressed in a sharp little tux, looking adorable as he carefully carries the rings down the aisle, stopping when he gets to me.
“That was scary,” he says, making everyone laugh.
“You did a good job.” I fist-bump him, and then he runs over to sit with Patricia.
Next is Kaylee. She flew in this morning for the wedding since she’s traveling with Sam York on his tour as his publicist. When she gets to the front, she nods once at me and smiles softly. I hate that she broke my best friend’s heart, but she’s still Layla’s best friend, so I’m going to have to get used to her being around.
The music changes, and Layla and my dad appear a beat later. She’s dressed in some off-the-shoulder white dress with beads and shit all over it. Her hair is down in loose waves, and her makeup looks professionally done because she never really wears a lot of makeup. She’s fucking stunning and all damn mine.
When her eyes lock with mine, her grin widens, and I swear to God, my chest cracks open, and my heart leaves my body. My dad gives her to me, and it takes everything in me not to kiss her right now.
The officiant reads us his speech, and we recite our vows, and the second he says the words I’ve been waiting to hear—I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride—my mouth is on hers. She tastes sweet, and I want to devour her, but I’ll save it for tonight. I release her, and she laughs softly, her face glowing with happiness.
“You look beautiful, Mrs. Blackwood,” I tell her as we dance to “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran while everyone watches us. The reception is being held in the same hotel where we’re spending the night before we take off tomorrow morning for our honeymoon. Layla hates the cold, and it’s been a long winter, so I planned a week at an all-inclusive, adults-only resort in Mexico.
“I can’t believe I’m Mrs. Blackwood.” She shakes her head. “I can’t remember the last time I was this happy. Thank you.” She lifts up and kisses my lips. “How long until we can go to our room?”
I chuckle, loving that my wife is on the same page as me. “A few more hours.”
The song ends, and the deejay welcomes everyone onto the dance floor. Layla seeks out Felix to dance with him while I ask my mom to dance.
“I’m so happy for you,” she says, swaying to the music. “I always thought Kendall would be the first to marry.” She laughs, glancing over at my sister, who’s dancing with her newest boyfriend.
“She would have to stay with one guy long enough for him to propose and then for her to make it down the aisle,” I joke. I love my sister, but she can’t keep a man to save her life. And it’s not them because she’s the one always doing the dumping.
“One day, she’ll meet the right guy, and she won’t run,” Mom says with a smile. “Not all of us meet the person we want to spend our lives with at fifteen.”
I smile at that. “I didn’t think it would ever happen.”
“I know. But it did. Fate has a wonderful way of intervening. It’s what brought your father and me together, and now you and Layla.”
The song ends, and after kissing my mom on her cheek and thanking her for the dance, I find my way back to Layla. We spend the night dancing and socializing. The food is good, Felix loves the cake, and when it’s socially acceptable, we thank everyone for coming and say good night. Layla tells Felix to be good for his grandma and that we’ll be home in a week. She’s nervous about not being there to hand him off to the social worker to see David, but her mom has assured her she’ll make sure everything goes smoothly.
“Stop,” I tell her when I open the door to our hotel room. “It’s tradition, right? Good luck?” I scoop her up into my arms and carry her, bridal style, across the threshold.
“I think that’s at the house,” she says with a laugh.
“I’ll do it then too.” I shrug and place her on the floor in the center of the bedroom. Backing up, I take a good look at my wife before I walk up behind her and begin to undo the pearl buttons down her back. With each one I unfasten, her sexy back is exposed. When they’re all undone, I flick the material, sending it into a pool on the floor.