KING: Las Vegas Bad Boys(87)
“I love you,” I tell her.
And then I take the steps one at a time.
No need to rush. Everything is coming together in its own time.
An hour later, Fiona is sitting in a chair next to Geoffrey, in the front row of the room. They’ve changed out of their wedding clothes, and are holding hands.
Everyone has their own love story to tell, in their own time.
Right now, it’s time to tell mine.
The music starts.
Ace and Emmy walk down the aisle, hand in hand. Ace takes his place beside me as my best man.
Jack and Tess walk arm in arm.
Then McQueen and Sophia enter, and smiles are written on everyone’s face. Sophia lights up the room. She lights up my bad-boy heart.
Fuck that–I’m not a boy anymore.
Sophia needs a man for a father. Claire needs a man for a husband.
And I’m going to give them what they need.
Then the roomful of people stand as the music changes, and Claire walks in, my Dad escorting her down the aisle.
She walks toward me.
I’d say something about how gorgeous she looks in her gown, in her diamonds, with her hair swept to the side, but that means nothing to me. Right now, our gazes meet, and my heart swells with pride.
She only has eyes for me.
And I feel like a goddamn King.
Claire
Landon and I hold one another as we spin around the dance floor. I throw back my head, dizzy with love.
It’s our first dance as husband and wife, and of course we’ve chosen to waltz. He leads me around the ballroom in his parents’ estate, and I can’t contain my grin. I don’t want to.
“You really are a spectacular dancer, wife,” Landon says, his lips grazing my ear, causing everything within me to swell with desire.
“You’re not so bad yourself, husband.”
The words sound foreign and luxurious. And they are mine.
The music stops and, as we leave the dance floor, our small gathering claps for us indulgently.
“Sophia,” Landon says, bending down to her where she has watched from the edge of the floor. “May I have the next dance?”
“Always,” she answers, curtseying for him. Melting my freaking heart.
We’re going to be okay. All of us.
Well, maybe not Tess—she looks pretty miserable over at a table by herself.
I sit down with her, and a waiter brings us flutes of champagne.
“You doing okay?” I ask her.
“I’m good, Claire. Stop worrying about everyone.” She smiles. “Eh, maybe you can’t help it, it’s the mom in you.”
“Maybe,” I say. “I just want everyone to be happy.”
“It’s crazy—at Emmy’s wedding you were such a cynic, and look at you now.” Tess shakes her head. “Who do you think will be next? Jack and Ashley?” Tess tilts her head toward the power couple, who are quietly arguing one table over.
“Yikes.”
“I know, right? They’ve been at it all night.”
“Relationships are complicated,” I say, shrugging.
“Enough with this–shouldn’t you and Landon be having wedding night sex or something?”
I laugh. “I think so.” I look at the dance floor and see Landon spinning Sophia around the dance floor. Damn, he’s sexy.
“I’m so happy for you, Claire,” Tess says, kissing my cheek.
“You’ll have your happily ever after soon enough,” I tell her, believing it. She just needs to find the right man.
Landon catches my eye, and we exchange a not-so-secret smile. We’re ready to get this wedding night started.
A few hours later we’ve cut the cake, thrown the bouquet, and escaped the reception that’s winding down.
“We’re terrible hosts,” I tell Landon, as he grabs my hand. We’re headed back to our room, and I can’t wait to get there.
“We aren’t the hosts. My parents are. They’ve got it covered.”
I pause at the door to our bedroom.
But Landon doesn’t hesitate. He picks me up, holding me in his arms, and kicks open the door.
“Crossing the threshold,” he says, smirking. He sets me down, harder than I think he planned, and closes the door.
“Such a romantic,” I say, laughing, getting my balance in the high heels and the enormous skirt of the gown. “Now, are you going to help me out of this dress or not?” I ask.
“Depends.” Landon walks in front of me, looking me up and down, crossing his arms.
“On what?”
My cheeks hurt from smiling so much today. My whole heart is fueled with the love he offers.
I bite my lip, amazed that this is my life. That I am the princess in my own fairy tale.
“Well, at the last wedding we attended I asked for a night,” he says. “You gave me an hour. What am I going to get now?”