Page 51 of Monsters, Vows, and Growls
I blinked against the tears. “I think so.”
He looked straight ahead. “I always wanted a daughter.”
My throat clenched.
“I know,” I whispered.
“And I always wanted you to be her.”
Oh, hell.Not now, tears.
I swallowed hard. “Henry?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for loving me like that. Always. And I always wanted a dad.”
He patted my hand once, then cleared his throat. “Let’s go before I ruin your mascara.”
The barn doors opened wide, and in that second, I forgot everything else. I didn't see any of the guests who had risen from their chairs and turned their heads toward me, only him.
Patrick.
My bear. My heart. My impossible miracle.
He stood at the end of the aisle in a black suit that made his eyes look molten gold, his hair combed back with just enough mess to remind me he was still the same man who’d once kissed me behind the bleachers like we were the last two people on Earth. Next to him, Gabe stood like a sentinel, stoic and resolute. As if ready to ward off anybody daring to tackle his quarterback. His jaw twitched when Carol shifted on her feet. Their mutual glare could’ve lit dry grass on fire. But they said nothing. Because even in their mutual dislike for each other, they recognized that this moment wasn’t about them.
Patrick’s eyes never left mine. Not once. Not when the breeze tugged at my veil. Not even when I tripped just slightly on a pinecone some kid probably dropped earlier. Strangely, all my nerves disappeared, just like the guests and the past.
It all fell away. Nothing else existed now.
Just him.
And me.
Henry placed my hand in Patrick’s and gave him a firm nod—one of those silent, meaningful,you hurt her, you diekind of gestures that only Henry could pull off with both warmth and threat. Patrick nodded back, eyes locked on mine like the rest of his world had faded to fog, too.
The officiant stepped forward, smiling gently at us. “We’re gathered here today to witness something rare and beautiful. A bond forged not just by time, but by choice. By falling, and by rising again.”
The breeze shifted softly around us. The trees seemed to hush, as if even nature knew to be quiet for this part. Carol handed me my bouquet with surprising grace, though her eyes did flick sideways to Gabe just long enough to sayDon’t ruin this, or I’ll strangle you with a centerpiece.He arched a brow in return.
Patrick gave my hands a little squeeze, just enough to anchor me back in the moment. I mouthed,I love you.He mouthed back,Love you more.
And then?—
Somewhere behind us, a whisper.
“Alex. Now. Go.”
A pause, followed by a very small growl. Then came the thunder of little dress shoes on packed earth, followed by a slight hiss, “Don’t drop the rings, Alex.”
A tiny blur of brown and beige barreled into view, Alex, our ring bearer—a six-year-old bear shifter whose mom was something like a second or third cousin of Patrick's. He was dressed in a miniature three-piece suit, complete with a burgundy bow tie,and holding a little moss-lined pillow as if it contained the secrets of the universe.
He stopped halfway down the aisle.
Sniffed.
Dropped to all fours.
