Her dress was simple, classy, and beautiful.
Her face, and her trembling, tearful smile ten times so.
All of it seemed detached, like something out of a dream sequence. Up until Helen stepped back and Sam’s hand slid into his. Her skin was warm, its texture familiar and soothing. She took her place in front of him, and as the minister welcomed their dearly beloved, she whispered, “Before it gets formal, I just wanted to tell you how very much I love you.” Her eyes glittered with unshed tears and her hand tightened on his.
He squeezed back. “You saved my life, you know that?”
And the ceremony began.
~*~
Ava wasn’t one for weddings, but this one she allowed herself to thoroughly enjoy. It was lovely, the afternoon melting into evening at Briar Hall, hangarounds lighting the candles in the hanging lanterns. The tent had that whole winter wonderland vibe going and Ratchet was an excellent DJ.
Her brother had married one of her best friends, and for the moment, all was right with the world.
Ava drained the last sip of her wine and set the glass down on the table, swaying slightly to the rhythm of “Simple Man.”
“There’s a wedding song,” Mercy said, returning to his chair beside her.
A little warm and dull with wine, Ava turned a smile toward him. “Better than our wedding music.” Which was none, because they’d spent their wedding night on the run, sleeping in Sly and Layla Hammond’s spare bedroom.
He tipped his head and grinned. “Oui.”
She couldn’t stop smiling. “You look awful handsome,” she said, reaching to pass a hand down the buttons on the front of his black shirt.
“Kinda drunk, aren’t you?” he asked with a soft laugh.
“I can think my man is handsome.”
“Yeah, but you don’t say things like ‘awful handsome’ unless you’ve had a few and the Southern gal comes out in full force.”
They laughed together. “Okay,” she said, “so I’m a little tipsy.”
“All the better to take advantage of you.”
“Oh, you didn’t hear? I was planning on beingrealeasy tonight.”
“Oh really?” A spark of mischief flared in his dark eyes. “That’s a shame. I like to work at it a little bit.”
“You’re SOL, baby.”
“Shit, how muchhaveyou had to drink?”
She reined in her silliness. “Just enough to have a little glow,” she assured. Her hand was still on him, where it had stopped its button-exploration in his lap. She shifted it, slid a grip to the inside of his thigh. “Mercy,” she said, emotion welling inside her.
He sensed the change in her immediately. His voice dropped, became smoky and warm. “What,fillette?”
“It was a pretty wedding, wasn’t it?”
His gaze took a trip around the tent, their club and loved ones talking, eating, Hound and Nell dancing remarkably well out on the floor. Then his eyes returned to hers. "Yeah, it was.”
“I want another one,” she whispered, hand tightening on him.
He reached for her empty wine glass.
“No. I want another baby. I want one more.”
He looked at her a long moment, the harsh, angular lines of his narrow face overlaid with a tender expression, a softening that came from the sweet center of his heart. He was the most brutal, violent, demented man she knew. And the kindest, the gentlest, the most loving.