Chapter Thirty Two: Ezra
“Hey, hey, my man,” Elijah said, slapping me on the shoulder as he approached me from behind. “Are you ready for this? You look good.”
I took a deep breath and nodded, staring at myself in the dressing room's mirror. Outside the open window, the gentle roll of waves against the beach soothed me, but I was surprisingly less nervous than I thought I would be.
“I’m ready,” I said. “What about Lacey. Is she—is she okay? Is she getting cold feet?”
Elijah laughed, shaking his head. “If Lacey didn’t want to marry you, Ezra, you’d know it by now.”
“Right.” I nodded my head, but his words didn’t entirely ease my fears. Six months ago, I’d proposed to my best friend in the middle of her kitchen, and today I was set to marry her on the same island my brother and his new wife had married. Needless to say, I was a bucket of nerves.
But I was happy. So fucking happy.
“Let’s do this,” Elijah said, squeezing my shoulder. “You look like a million bucks, little brother. I’ll see you in a minute.”
Family and friends were gathered in the sand on the beach as I walked out to stand at the altar and wait for Lacey. Standing up beside me was my father, along with a few friends from the club, and on Lacey’s side, Ava and Tilly stood dressed in beautiful aqua blue gowns. Tilly looked to be on the verge of crying already. My mother sat in the front row, tears streaming from her eyes, but I knew they were tears of joy. Lacey officially joining our family seemed to be something she’d always wanted, and today that dream came true.
As the wedding march played, I looked up anxiously, hands folded in front of me as my soon-to-be wife stepped out with a smile, her arm linked with Elijah’s as he escorted her down the candle-lit path. God, she was stunningly perfect. Dressed in a flowing white dress studded with sequins, the fabric brushed the sand as Lacey walked down the aisle, holding her bouquet to her chest. Our guests stood, smiling at her, tears pouring from people’s eyes. There were smiles all around. Everything just felt so blissfully … right.
As Elijah handed Lacey off to me, taking his place next to my father at the altar, I took Lacey’s hands between mine, wishing I could just hold her forever and never let go.
“You are perfect,” I whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. “Absolutely perfect.”
“You don’t look too bad yourself,” Lacey murmured shyly, squeezing my hand. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
I chuckled, feeling every little, tiny bit of hesitation melt from my mind once and for all. There was nothing in the world I wanted more than this—than her—and I intended to spend the rest of my life proving it to her.
“’Til death does us part,” I said. “I love you, Lace. Forever and always.”
“Forever and always,” she said. “I love you, Ezra.”