Page 17 of Accidentally Kidnapping the Groom

"Ready?" she whispers, her green eyes bright with emotion.

I nod, unable to find my voice for a moment. Behind these doors waits Jay, the man who came into my life like a warm breeze during the coldest of winter. The man who made me believe in second chances.

The ancient hinges creak as Iris pulls open the heavy wooden door. The chapel is exactly as I imagined it would be—warm light filtering through stained glass windows, casting jewel-toned shadows across the worn wooden pews.

But my eyes are drawn immediately to Jay, standing under an arch decorated with the same foliage as my bouquet. An older man and Jay’s brother stand next to him. Dressed in another tuxedo, my husband-to-be is so handsome my heart hurts.

The tuxedo he wore when I kidnapped him never got clean again and secretly I’m happy about that. I don’t want him to wear the outfit that was for another woman’s wedding during our ceremony.

His hands are clasped in front, and when he turns to look at me, the love in his eyes makes my heart skip a beat. The small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepen as he smiles, and I feel tears welling up already.

The older man, who is our officiant, nods to me kindly as I begin my walk down the short aisle. There's no wedding march playing, no elaborate decorations—just the sound of my footsteps on the ancient floorboards and the whisper of my dress. Candles flicker in wall sconces, their light dancing across the stone walls that have witnessed countless unions before ours.

As I walk, I think about how incredibly lucky I am to not only have met this man, but to have him fall in love with me. After years of having only myself to rely on, I now have a family of Jay and Nick.

And Iris.

I haven’t told her about my trouble with the mob. What she doesn’t know will protect her. But she’s thrilled to be my bridesmaid and we’ve become closer during the last weeks.

Jay and Nick have come through for me on so many levels. Through their government connections, we’ve been able to hand over the ledger that my dad stole to trustworthy contacts. People who will make sure that Popov and his entire crew are put away for a very long time.

During the shootout that killed my mom and uncle, my dad was so intent on saving his own skin that he left the ledger behind. I found it in his gun safe when I grabbed what meager possessions I could from our house before I went on the run as an eighteen-year-old. And I hid it in a deposit box in a smallbank in Colorado, under a name I’ve never used for anything but renting that box.

Now, reaching the altar, I hand my bouquet to Iris and turn to face Jay. He takes my hands in his. His fingers are warm despite the chapel's chill. The officiant speaks, his voice gentle and measured, but I barely hear the words. I'm lost in Jay's eyes, in the slight tremor I feel in his hands that matches my own, in the overwhelming certainty that this is exactly where I'm meant to be.

When it's time for our vows, Jay speaks first. His voice is steady but full of emotion as he promises to be my partner, my support, my home. He talks about how we met when I came to interview for the bartender job.

“I didn’t realize it then, but you carved out a place in my heart at that moment and I’ve carried you in there ever since. You were meant for me, April. And I’m so lucky that you found me.”

My own vows come from deep in my heart, words I've thought about for these past two weeks but haven't written down. I tell him how he taught me to trust again, how his patience and kindness helped me tear down the walls I'd built around my heart. How his laughter has become my favorite sound in the world.

“I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you’ve made me.”

Iris sobs and wipes at her eyes. We all laugh, but everyone’s eyes are a little misty at this point. Even Nick, who hasn’t warmed up to me yet. He hasn’t quite forgiven me for ruining Charlotte’s wedding. I haven’t met her yet. She’s been out of the country for work, but should be back in time for Jay’s birthday celebration.

The exchange of rings comes next. They are plain gold bands that we chose together. Jay's hands shake slightly as he slides the ring onto my finger, and I have to try twice before I get his ringpast his knuckle. We both laugh softly, and the sound echoes in the quiet chapel.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant says, and before he can finish saying "You may kiss the bride," Jay's lips are on mine. His hands cup my face gently, and I can feel him smiling into the kiss. Behind us, Iris sniffs even more loudly, and Nick laughs, the sound reverberating off the chapel walls.

When we break apart, I look up into Jay's face—my husband's face—and see tears in his eyes that match my own. He brushes a tear from my cheek with his thumb, and I lean into his touch, overwhelmed by the love I feel for this man.

The signing of the marriage certificate feels surreal. The paper is official and stark against the ancient wooden table, but our signatures transform it into something magical. A legal proof of our promise to each other. Iris and Nick sign as witnesses, and then it's done.

We're married.

I’ve kept the name April, but now my last name is King. The FBI is working on making this identity as real as it possibly can be.

As we walk back down the aisle, hand in hand, snow falls outside the stained-glass windows. The sight makes me squeeze Jay's hand—snow now is our thing, our good luck charm. He squeezes back, and I know he's thinking the same thing.

In the chapel's small vestibule, Iris hugs me tightly, crying happy tears into my shoulder. Nick bear-hugs his brother, then turns to me with a warm smile. "Welcome to the family, officially," he says, pulling me into a hug as well. Maybe I’ll be able to win him over eventually. He’s a big part of Jay’s life, so I want him to like me.

“Get your hands off my wife,” Jay growls, and I’m not sure he’s entirely joking.

Nick laughs again, but releases me.

The four of us step outside into the gentle snowfall, and I tilt my face up to feel the cold flakes on my skin. Jay wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close against his side.

We take a few photos with Iris's phone—nothing formal, just snapshots of our happiness. The snow creates a perfect backdrop, falling softly around us as we smile and laugh. My favorite is one that Iris captures when neither of us is looking—Jay and I gazing at each other, snowflakes catching in our hair, lost in our own world.

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