Page 117 of The Ones We Fight For

“And don’t forget it.” Each word was interrupted with a slam of his hips as he buried himself in her.

“As long as you remember you’re mine.” Her heels dug into his back, forcing him even deeper as he felt her hand reach between them to stroke herself where she needed more. The image of her touching herself in his head was enough to get him close to finishing.

“Always.”

Walker found her mouth again, claiming Talia and letting her take what she was entitled to. Him. All of him. Teeming with every impassioned desire, he poured his soul into every thrust, wanting her to know exactly what she was getting by marrying him. Someone who constantly felt he was a disappointment. Someone grieving.Someone broken and still healing. But beyond every other cry of his body, the most urgent one covered all the rest: someone who would never stop loving her.

Talia’s body responded with its own declarations. Walker knew her heart so well by then that each statement her body made was clear as day, even behind a blindfold. He was marrying someone bruised by her past. Someone who needed to be reminded that she was beautiful. And, above all, someone who would never stop loving him.

“I’m so close,” he grunted as he reached the cusp of release.

“Me too,” Talia whispered. Walker could tell she was from the way her thigh muscles were tightening with a shaky tension, her walls squeezing around him. It was the final surge that sent him careening into orgasm.

They both fell over the edge together, working each other down as Walker slid his fingers into Talia’s mouth to smother the sound of her moan. There were still people in the vicinity, people who would probably be none too thrilled that he and Talia couldn’t keep their hands off each other until after the ceremony—her maid of honor, for one, who had just promised to skin Walker alive if he so much as looked at his future wife before she walked down the aisle.

The feeling of Talia’s legs unwrapping from around his hips was immediately followed by the thudding sound of her feet hitting the floor.

“You ruined my lipstick,” she scolded.

“You kissed me first,” Walker said and reached for her, slowly running his hand down her chest. ”So, what color is your dress?”

“You’ll find out in ten minutes.” Talia stepped away from him, and he stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. She giggled. “You’re pathetic.”

“I can’t help it,” Walker said, feeling his way to the door. When he found it, he paused, blindly turning his head in what he thought was Talia’s direction. “Do me a favor and leave your underwear off. I like being the only one who knows you aren’t wearing them. See you out there.”

???

Adjusting his tie back into position, Walker shifted in place under the lattice arch draped with white wisteria, peach roses, and silver dollar eucalyptus in his backyard. He was standing next to the officiant, Marty (yes, the man Talia hit with her car—he had been surprised by the request but more than happy to fulfill the role), who was holding a Bible and none the wiser that Walker had just fucked his future wife up against the wall in her dressing room, which was also their bedroom. Roscoe stood in a gray suit on Walker’s left after having walked his wife down the aisle. Amala was all dolled up in a blush pink floor-length gown beside Piper and Pearl, who both looked as beautiful as ever. The pure joy radiating off their faces was already starting to make tears well in Walker’s eyes.

The yard was filled with their closest friends and also Clifford and his wife, Mary. Walker originally objected to inviting Talia’s ex at all, but, apparently, Talia and Cliff had made some sort of weird pact because two months earlier Walker and Talia had flown out to New York to attend his and Mary’s wedding, which was so elaborate it was almost indecent. Walker much preferred the low-key, laid-back version he and Talia had organized. It was a family affair.

Twinkle lights hung from the wood fencing in preparation for the sun to set on a perfect evening. The main aisle between the chairs that Talia would soon be walking down was littered with a tasteful amount of white flower petals, even more so after Jayla walked down with her flower girl basket, tossing more petals about as she spun in her flowy dress like the princess she was. Baby Marcel was sleeping in Roscoe’s mom’s arms out in the first row as the old woman rocked her grandbaby with blissful glee.

Cooper followed after Jayla down the aisle, the rings perched on a handcrafted pillow made by Curtis, who was still cheerfully in Talia's employ and beaming from the third row back. The head butcher from Lydia’s, Mateo, and his wife Lucia, who now did all the inventory for the store, were holding hands and looking at each other fondly beside Curtis. The romance of a wedding seemed to be sweeping everyone away into their own memories. Walker’s bachelor friends, Liam and Oliver, who’d joked before the ceremony about texting him incessantly while he was on his honeymoon, sat in the back row, cheesy grins on their faces. They thought they were in their glory days, no idea that singledom was nowhere near as good as being with the love of your life.

Even Walker’s father was there, three months sober, sitting in the second row, with a smile on his face that almost resembled pride. It wasn’t a fix, but it was a start. Dennis was trying. He wanted to know his grandkids and had finally realized that he’d already missed out on so much time he could never get back. Directly in front of Walker’s dad sat three picture frames, one for each chair remaining in the front row. Pictures of Cole, Paisley, and Lydia, their smiling faces looking up at him from their seats. The ghosts he forever wanted to be haunted by.

Everyone was there.

When a piano version of “I Will Follow You Into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie started playing through a nearby speaker, Walker focused on the sliding glass door where Talia was supposed to be exiting the house.

Then, she did.

Emerging from behind the door, accompanied by Carter on one side and Colin on the other, Talia made her way down the steps from the wooden deck to the narrow, flower-lined walkway, holding her heels in her hand. She was a dream in her white dress. He was right about the lace, too. It was both classy and sexy, hugging her curves and showing off just the right amount of cleavage. She was drop-dead gorgeous. If Walker didn’t want to live out the rest of his life with her, he might have keeled over, happily dying on the spot. Wiping at his eyes as they spilled over with joy, he watched her curled, flower-adorned ponytail sway gently in the breeze against the criss-crossed ribbon straps at the back of her dress. Her gown pooled at her bare feet, sewn flower petals traveling down the A-line dress to the bottom of her lace-hemmed skirt. Stunning.

Talia moved with grace down the aisle as every eye fell upon her, the way every eye should when she walked into a room or space. The way Walker’s eyes did every time she was beside him. He could feel the hot tears sliding down his face, but he no longer cared to wipe them away. By some stroke of luck, or by Cole and Paisley’s persistent pleading with whatever powers that be, he was about to marry the woman of his dreams. Walker Hartrick, doomed to be alone, unloved, and a stress case forever, was going to be married to the most beautiful person he’d ever met.

Walker inhaled a deep, shaky breath to regain his composure when Talia came to stand in front of him.

“Who gives this woman to marry this man?” Marty asked.

All of his nieces and nephews shouted a smattering of “we do”s. They had practiced beforehand in an attempt to say it simultaneously, but they utterly failed, which only made Walker smile wider, holding his hand out to Talia, who was biting back a laugh at their lack of unanimity. Her firm grip when he took her palm in his propelled him to stand tall instead of melting into a puddle on the ground at her feet. Colin and Carter found their spots beside Cooper and Roscoe as Talia met Walker under the arch, her thumbs rubbing circles into the backs of his hands.

“Ready, Ponytail?” Walker asked.

“Born ready.” Talia nodded. Marty cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses on his long nose as he looked down at his notes.

“We begin with the purchase of a very questionable vehicle.”

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