Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Although, wow. If she’d taken the money and skedaddled, she would have missed the sight of August in front of an altar—a portable one, sure—looking at her in a wedding dress with total, unabashed awe. It wasn’t every day a girl was privy to that compelling of a moment.
My goodness, he’s beautiful, too. A big, beautiful, battle-worn presence.
She’d meant every word she’d said to her father. God help her. What now?
Follow through on her word to the man. She owed him that. He deserved that much.
But that was all she could offer. All he could expect.
They were halfway through the traditional vows when August cleared his throat and flattened the wrinkled paper on his thigh. Out of the corner of her eye, Natalie noticed her mother shifting nervously in her seat. She knew August was a loose cannon who never tried to hide his disdain for St. Helena’s elite and every guest at this wedding fit that profile, including Ingram Meyer.
August reached for the microphone and the pastor handed it over with a glance toward the wedding planner. He shrugged. August cleared his throat directly into the mic, sending a trill of feedback through the tent and a smattering of murmurs. “Natalie Vos. Wow. Here we are. Getting married.” He turned the paper toward her so she could see he’d written those exact words, before going back to reading. “I promise to take your side in every argument—unless it’s the one you’re having with me, then it’s fair game. But the point I’m trying to make is that we might fight . . .” He scanned the room with a pointed look. “But God help anyone else who tries to fight with you. They will answer to me.”
Oh . . . my God. Why were her eyes burning?
This wasn’t even real. Why did his speech feel . . . important?
Why did the whole day feel significant?
“I also promise to protect you from this day forward. From cat claws to fires to drunk people with axes. You’re always going to be safe. I’ll make sure of it. You can call me no matter where you are, and I’ll come.”
There was more.
A whole second half of a page. He couldn’t seem to continue, though. Maybe because the guests were so silent. Maybe he got self-conscious. Whatever the reason, August coughed into his fist, folded up the paper hastily, and shoved the vows back into his pocket. “We can keep going now,” he said with a brief smile, handing the microphone back to the pastor.
Instead, Natalie just dropped her bouquet of flowers, took a lunging step, and kissed him. Smack on the mouth, right there in front of everyone, her hands smoothing up the lapels of his black dress jacket. “Are you kissing me because of what I said about your tits, princess? Because I meant it. They are hot as sh—”
“For the love of God. Shut up.”
“Done.”
She kissed him again, ignoring the dangerous stinging behind her eyes. The kiss threatened to grow more intense until August squeezed her waist and broke away with a low whistle, his eyelids at half-mast.
They finished reciting the words that officially made them husband and wife, but she stumbled over every single sentence, thanks to the way August was looking at her.
* * *
Apparently, the bride and groom didn’t get to spend a whole lot of time together at the wedding. File that under information August hadn’t been unaware of until today.
At least, they never got to be alone.
Everyone else under the tent seemed to be getting tons of face time with Natalie and he wasn’t even going to pretend not to be jealous. Whenever he got her attention, someone came by and struck up a conversation with her. Men. Women. Children. Even the cat was in her lap for a while, rolled over on its back like a lazy queen.
Obviously everyone wanted to talk to his wife, she looked like a fucking angel.
In sixty years, when he thought back on his wedding, he was going to remember this—chasing her around the candlelit tent just trying to get her alone. So he could . . . what?
He wasn’t even positive this wedding meant anything to Natalie. Not the way it meant something to him. If her motives went beyond unlocking her trust fund, they remained unclear. And he wanted to know where he stood with this woman every time he looked at her. Starting today, he’d do everything in his power to make it happen.
August-style, of course.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Cates. Under better circumstances, of course,” said a voice to his right. August turned to find none other than Ingram Meyer standing at his elbow, holding a plate of cake. Who wore a straw hat to a wedding? Was it the guy’s signature fashion piece or something? “I’m Ingram Meyer.”