Page 596 of The Winslow Brothers

There she is—the most beautiful woman in the world—Rachel Rose.

Centered in the doorway at the end of the banquet room aisle with her arm linked in her father’s, my bride-to-be smiles through the thin, pristine fabric of her veil. Her wedding dress hugs the perfect curves of her body, and maybe even better, the corners of her mouth are nearly touching her ears.

She’s happy to be here—ready to marryme.And that makes me, Ty Winslow, the luckiest bastard alive.

The music crescendos with the traditional wedding march, and Nate and Rachel start to walk. Slow, sure steps eat up the space of the aisle between us, and with every passing one, my heart beats a little harder.

I can’t fucking believe I finally get to make her mine.

Rachel bites her lip and winks as soon as they get within five feet of me, and everything comes alive.

This is the woman of my dreams. She’s teasing and fun and playful every chance she gets, and underneath that lives a deep, burning compassion and kindness I can’t describe. She has thebiggest heart and the sweetest pussy, and for a guy like me, there is no better combination.

“Who gives this woman today?” the reverend asks from behind us when they stop their long procession.

“Her late mother and I do,” Nathaniel Rose declares, his voice only slightly breaking in the middle.

Nate reaches forward, Rachel’s hand clasped in his other as he takes mine to shake. I look him in the eye, despite the emotion I know is shining there. This is a huge moment—for him and for me.

Letting go of Rachel is like letting go of his last hold on his old life with Nadine, and I do my very best to express how much it means to me in the silent exchange.

Not only is Rachel the light of my life, but Nate is the reason I’m here. He was more of a father to me than the pathetic excuse for my own. He was the man who turned me into one. He was my safe space. And now, I’m going to be lucky enough to call him my father-in-law.

I didn’t plan it, I swear, but I’ll be fucked if life doesn’t work out so perfectly sometimes.

“Take care of my girl, Ty,” Nate states, his voice raspy but firm, nonetheless.

I nod, allowing a tiny smile to curl the corner of my mouth as I glance at my beautiful bride. She is the most stunning person I’ve ever seen, and the subtle curve of her stomach, evidence of our most special girl, Emily, whom we created together, only makes her more so. “I will, sir. There isnothingI’d rather do.”

Nate nods resolutely, just once, and then pulls Rachel forward to put her hand in mine. The feeling of her fingers as they slide between my own is the feeling of coming home.

Nate retreats to the front row, pulling Emily from Lou’s arms and tucking her close to his chest, and Rachel and I step up to the altar and join hands in the middle. It’s only then that I notice at the end of everyone I expect to be standing behind my future wife—Lydia, Winnie, Daisy, Sophie, and Maria—is another face I recognize.

Though, I’d never in a million years expect to see it here, like this, as a bridesmaid at my fucking wedding because she sure as hell didn’t walk down the aisle in the processional with the rest of them. Trust me, I would have noticed.

I lower my voice to a whisper and try to pull my eyes off the green-eyed enchantress to look directly at my soon-to-be wife, but I’ll admit, I’m having a little trouble. “Uh, Rach?”

“Yes?” she asks, her voice a little perkier than I’d like.

“Is that Cleo? The fortune-teller? Standing up at our fucking wedding as a member of the bridal party?”

The reverend behind me clears his throat and the crowd titters at my language, and it’s only then that I realize I’m mic-ed up for the ceremony, and everyone in this whole room just heard me drop the f-bomb.

“Ty!” my mom snaps from the front row, Lexi laughing beside her.

I close my eyes tight at the sound of Cleo’s boisterous laughter, and Rachel starts to giggle. “Sorry, babe. But I had to get you one last time before we said ‘I do.’”

The whole crowd erupts again, having heard Rachel’s explanation and, evidently, supporting her in her prank entirely.

“I’m going get you back for this one day,” I whisper back, and I watch in fascination as Rachel’s smile grows a mile wide.

“I hope you do, Ty Winslow. And if we get this show on the road, you’ll have the rest of our lives to do it.”

I nod. “I can’t fucking wait.”

The crowd laughs again, Wendy drops her head into her hands, and the reverend, the poor guy just sighs.

“Sorry, Rev,” I apologize. “I am what I am.”

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