Page 75 of SINS & Temptation

Riley is here. How? I have no idea, and I don’t care. The thought of getting married without her was suffocating me, but now that she’s here, I can finally breathe again.

Her emerald gown is stunning, her hair elegantly swept up, and she’s holding a big bouquet of cream peonies. “Seriously?” she asks, one hand on her hip, blocking the door like a linebacker. “Getting hitched without me?”

I grab her so hard and tight she gasps. “You’re smashing your bouquet,” she laughs, but she hugs me back just as fiercely.

“I don’t care,” I say, my voice thick with emotion. “I’m so glad you’re here. How did you even get here?”

“I have no idea. All I know is a guy said you needed me.”

“What guy?”

Totally ignoring me, she continues. “They took my phone, blindfolded me, handed me a dress, and now I’m here. Are you marrying royalty or something?” she rattles off, as if being abducted and dressed by strangers is totally okay. Which, for the record, it’s not.

I’ll be giving Enzo hell for it. And definitely chastising her later, but for now, I’m too elated to say anything other than, “Or something.”

Arm in arm, we enter the church, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The moment I step inside, I’m overwhelmed by the glow of candlelight. St. Michael’s is transformed, overflowing with white roses and peonies.

It’s decked out like Jesus Christ himself is visiting, and suddenly, I’m nervous.

A flurry of butterflies kicks up in my chest as Father Marc and all the men take their places at the front—like a wall of Calvin Klein models...in kilts.

“Which brother is mine?” Riley whispers, her eyes scanning the guys.

“Absolutely none of them,” I reply firmly. No player is getting his hooks, or anything else, into my sister. Not now, not ever.

“What’s good fer the goose, darlin’...” My father’s words haunt me from beyond, and I roll my eyes.

Sin steps beside me, addressing everyone else with a calm authority. “Like we rehearsed.”

They rehearsed? When did they do that?

He extends his arm with a suave flourish. “Ready, my dear?”

Ha! Not even close. I’m still waiting for someone to wake me the hell up.

I take his arm, feeling the steady warmth of his support, as Riley shoves the bouquet into my hands. “You’re going to go ape when you see what’s in the church. They told me it was ‘something borrowed,” she whispers.

She pecks my cheek, and then she’s gone, rushing off to join the others. They’re all lined up ahead of me, ready to go, when I see him.

Enzo moves into position like a wolf through the pack, his gaze locked onto mine.

He’s tall, dark, and sinfully built, with more raw magnetism than all the men in Chicago combined. And seeing him decked out in Scottish regalia makes my heart somersault like a Chinese gymnast.

I’m not exactly sure how the kilt manages to make him look a million times hotter, but damn, it definitely does.

Like a blowtorch firing off between my legs, the man is a danger to my sanity, my composure, and my panties. All at once.

Between that and my heart’s amped-up jackhammering, it takes me a minute to register that the music I’m hearing is coming from bagpipes.

Is that the something borrowed? I mean, who actually owns bagpipes?

God, Riley was right. Little girl Kennedy is going ape, freaking out like it’s a Fourth of July parade, ecstatic and beaming and I hate to admit it, touched.

Enzo is plucking every last one of my heartstrings, one after the other, until all I can feel is him. So why is that nagging little doubt still clawing at my gut?

By the time I meet him face to face, every last one of the peonies’ stems has been properly strangled. Sin hands me off to my soon-to-be husband, and Father Marc carries out the ceremony devotional just as Da would’ve wanted.

When he gets to the, “Do you, Kennedy, take Enzo Ares D’Angelo, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” you can hear a pin drop.

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