Page 180 of Dirty Grovel

“I suppose I figured that a big, fancy ceremony was over rated. All Sutton really ever wanted was our closest friends and family present. And all I want is her.” I look at my bride for the first time since my speech began. “So, given that we have those things here… How about we turn this baby shower into a wedding?”

Sutton’s mouth parts, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh my God!” she breathes, completely blindsided. “Are you serious?”

Right on cue, the captain appears on deck in full ceremonial regalia. The crowd erupts.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Oksana smiling softly and clapping.

I block everyone out and turn to my bride. “What do you say, princess? I know this is a surprise but… Wanna marry me today?”

“Oleg,” she gasps, “I wanted to marry you months ago!”

“I’ll take that as a yes?”

She laughs. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Sydney appears at Sutton’s side and pulls her into a tight embrace. “Can I have the honor of walking you down the aisle?” she asks.

Sutton blinks back tears. “Of course.”

Just before Sydney leads her away, Sutton glances at me. “Is this the reason you were pushing this dress?” she asks, touching the romantic silk chiffon of her ivory-silver dress.

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll never tell.”

Laughing, she pushes herself up on tiptoes to kiss me.

“Nuh-huh,” Sydney cracks, grabbing Sutton’s arm and pulling her away. “Save that for when they pronounce you man and wife.”

It’s maddening chaos as Sutton and I exchange our vows with the same casual disregard for convention that has marked our entire relationship so far.

There’s nothing “proper” about the ceremony. Nothing remotely appropriate or dignified to be found.

But it’s legal, binding, final.

It’sreal.

And that’s the only thing that matters to me.

Judging from the starry look in Sutton’s eyes, it’s the only thing that matters to her, too.

Once the “I do’s” are out of the way and we’re officially declared husband and wife, I cup Sutton’s face and pull her lips to mine.

We kiss so deep and so long that I start to hear shy giggles and catcalls crashing down around us.

I don’t care.

I keep going, kissing my wife until she’s pink and breathless.

“Oleg Pavlov,” she mumbles when I finally let go of her. “There are children present.”

“The children can avert their eyes then,” I chuckle. “Because there’s nothing on earth that can stop me kissing my wife right now.”

“Wife,” she repeats in awe. “I can’t believe it.”

“ You’re Mrs. Oleg Pavlov now.”

She smirks. “I prefer to be called Mrs. Beast, thank you very much.”

Snorting, I pull her into the circle of my arms. “Either way, you know what that means, don’t you?”

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