Page 29 of Snowed-in With The Mountain Man
The word still gets me, even after eighteen months of hearing it daily. I nod, throat too tight for words.
Then the music shifts, and everyone stands.
Stella appears at the end of the aisle, and the world narrows to just her.
She's wearing a simple white dress that hugs her curves before flowing to the ground, wildflowers woven through her dark hair. Her smile is radiant, eyes locked on mine as she walks toward me with measured steps.
No father to give her away. She's giving herself to me, as I'm giving myself to her. A choice we're both making freely.
When she reaches me, I take her hands, noting they're shaking as badly as mine.
"Hi," she whispers.
"Hi yourself." I squeeze her fingers gently. "You're beautiful."
"You're not so bad yourself." Her smile turns mischievous. "Think we can get through this without me crying?"
"Not a chance," I murmur as the officiant begins speaking.
The ceremony passes in a blur of words and promises. I hear myself saying vows we wrote together, pledging forever to this woman who came back to me broken and let me help put her back together. Who put me back together in ways I didn't realize I needed.
"I love you," I say, slipping the ring onto her finger. "I've loved you since we were seventeen. I'll love you when we're ninety. You and Chellie are my entire world."
Her tears start then, as predicted. "I love you too. You're my home, Ridge. My safe place. My everything." She slides my ring on with slightly trembling hands. "Thank you for waiting for me. For loving me. For loving our daughter."
"Our daughter," I repeat, the possessive pronoun filling me with fierce joy.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiant declares. "You may kiss your bride."
I don't need to be told twice. I pull Stella into my arms, capturing her mouth in a kiss that's probably too heated for a public ceremony. She melts against me, hands fisting in my jacket, kissing me back with equal enthusiasm.
Someone wolf whistles. Probably Colt.
When we finally break apart, Stella's lipstick is smudged, her eyes dazed. "Wow."
"That's Mrs. Reeves to you," I tease, pressing my forehead to hers.
"Mrs. Reeves," she repeats, testing it out. "I like the sound of that."
Chellie appears beside us, tugging on Stella's dress. "My turn!"
Laughing, I scoop her up, the three of us wrapped in an embrace as cheers erupt from our guests. This moment, this perfect crystalline moment, is everything I've dreamed of since I was seventeen and realized Stella Brooks was the only woman I'd ever love.
The reception flows with food and laughter and dancing. Chellie insists on a dance with me, standing on my feet as I waltz her around the makeshift dance floor. Then another with Stella,the three of us swaying together as the sun sets and the string lights come alive.
"Can we tell them now?" Stella whispers against my ear during our official first dance. "I'm dying to share."
"Let's wait until we cut the cake," I suggest. "Build the suspense."
She laughs, the sound warming me from the inside out. "You're terrible."
"You married me anyway."
"Best decision I ever made." She rises on her toes despite her heels, pressing a kiss to my jaw. "Well, second best. Coming back to Whisper Vale was the first."
When the cake appears, a three-tiered masterpiece from the bakery in Carson City, I take the microphone from Darlene.
"Before we cut this, Stella and I have an announcement."
