Epilogue

After two weeks of intense planning and commandeering volunteers like a pro, Cass managed to get the schoolhouse ready in time for the wedding of the century. Because where else would it make sense for Tristan and Cassidy to tie the knot but there?

She’d suggested the storm shelter and he was pretty sure she hadn’t been kidding, but the schoolhouse was her pride and joy. He honestly didn’t care where he married her as long as it happened pronto. There was no scenario in which he’d risk a pregnancy unless he and Cass were already husband and wife. So they’d spent a very long two weeks in breathless anticipation of the moment when they could finally say “I do.”

Cass’s enormous energy served her well in planning her wedding in such a short period of time, earning her hummingbird wings on a daily basis. It was still Tristan’s favorite thing about her.

The day arrived faster than a speeding bullet, or at least that was the analogy West lobbed in Tristan’s direction as he hustled the groom out of the hotel and into the SUV that Hardy owned. His other teammates had already crowded into the Yukon and sat there grinning at him—at least Rowe and Hardy anyway since Hudson had extreme allergies to smiling—as Tristan climbed in.

“Glad to see you’ve returned to the land of the well-groomed,” West told him as he took his own seat and closed the door. “You look pretty sharp in a tux.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Tristan said deadpan. “But I’ll let Aria decide. I hear she’s still mad at you for making her wait to get married when it’s obvious a motivated woman can have the thing done in a flash.”

And wasn’t that a kick? He’d be the first of his mates to get married. The fact that Cass hadn’t wanted to drag it out made him love her more.

“We’re not in a hurry,” West mumbled with a scowl. “And it’s not because I’m dragging my feet no matter what she told you. We have a lot of stuff going on. Why don’t you rib Hardy instead? He’s been engaged to Havana longer.”

“Leave me out of it,” Hardy advised from the driver’s seat as he turned onto Tallhorse Road, so named for the man who owned the property, as was the custom in these parts. “I dare any of you to tell Havana she’s organizing something wrong. And don’t come crying to me if you bleed out afterwards.”

All at once, Hardy rolled the Yukon to a stop, and it was time to get out. To get married. To Cass. He shouldn’t have such a huge ball of ice in his stomach, should he? But honestly, he’d been thrilled about the short timetable because it gave his fiancée less time to change her mind.

This was her last chance. Till death do them part. It was a little bit of a shock how much he’d anticipated this permanent move. He’d never be single again.

That feeling inside? Relief. The ice melted.

Ruby waited outside for them in her role as wedding coordinator, her smile a sweet combo of tears as she straightened Tristan’s lapels. “I must be certifiable if I chose Matthew McConaughey over you. Is it too late to change my answer?”

In response, he pulled Ruby into a tight hug that might have sprung a couple of his own tears loose. “Never. You’re still on my short list.”

And he had no doubt she knew exactly what he meant. She’d become somewhat of a surrogate mom too and he hoped he never ran out of amazing women in his life who cared about him. Best of all, he’d chosen this woman to be in his life and she’d chosen to be in his. No accidents required.

Inside, the entire population of Superstition Springs, including Tallhorse who had no excuse to avoid the ceremony since it was a stone’s throw from his house, sat in white chairs that Tristan had driven all the way to Bastrop to retrieve. Small price to pay.

Serenity stood at the head of the room holding a bible as she waited to officiate the wedding. No one had been surprised to learn she was an ordained minister and Tristan had been the one to insist that while Matthew Moon, the pastor at the non-denominational church they all attended, might be perfectly capable of officiating, he wanted his mom to do it.

She kissed his cheek as he took his place next to her. And then it was time.

Recorded music piped out from the rear of the schoolhouse and Havana started down the aisle with her arm looped around Hardy’s, their eyes on each other in a way that used to make Tristan really jealous. Next came Ember on the arm of Rafferty, which was such a rarity that he really hoped someone had taken pictures because that would be the last time anyone ever saw a woman touching the man in public. Rowe Hardy came next, attached to India Kingston, who had been invited to be in the wedding party strictly to even out the numbers, but judging by the way they kept sneaking glances at each other, it was a savvy move on Cass’s part. Last, Aria and West appeared from the back, her hand at his elbow, and no, she didn’t really look all that mad that Tristan and Cass had beaten them in the matrimony department.

All at once, Cass appeared on the arm of her father, and he forgot how to breathe.

Her gaze sought his and the second they linked, everything inside woke up as if he’d been asleep. She seeped into every corner, enlivening him with the passion he’d thought had died in Syria but really had just been waiting for the right woman.

Cass’s father passed her off to Tristan and took his seat. The ceremony was short as dictated by the bride who hadn’t wanted to chance standing still for too long and within moments, Serenity said, “You may kiss the bride.”

Except she’d never been one to wait around and flew into his arms to do the kissing, which he hoped never stopped. Her enthusiastic lips molded to his and he had a hard time pulling away, but they had a whole reception to get to before he could pick up that kiss where it left off.

Tristan led his wife down the aisle and outside into the sunshine for a few moments alone while his teammates and Cass’s friends took down all of the chairs in anticipation of the reception.

“Hello, Mrs. Marchande,” he said and caught her up in his arms because he wanted to, and he could. He’d probably be doing both a lot—touching her and calling her by her new name.

“Hi,” she said a little bit breathlessly.

It was nice to know she was similarly affected by the weight of it. Her body fit against his like she’d been made for him, and she was so beautiful in her white dress that he could hardly think.

“I mean, bonjour,” she said in halting, horrible French. “Monsieur Marchande.”

He did a double take. “Brushing up on your linguistic skills?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” She grinned so widely that his heart nearly burst. “Because je t’aime.”

He loved her too. So much.

“You know there’s a really nice storm shelter not too far away from here,” he murmured. “I have it on good authority that the locks are sound. We could get started on fulfilling your prophecy right this minute.”

She laughed like he’d been kidding. “We have a whole honeymoon planned. Plenty of time for that later.”

“I’m doing something wrong if you’re fine with waiting,” he grumbled without any real animosity.

“I’m looking forward to that part too,” she confessed, her eyes deep and beautiful as she looped her arms around his neck. “But the problem is, once we start, I don’t intend to stop for a very long time. You’re stuck with me forever.”

“Now you’re talking,” he growled and nuzzled her neck, one hundred percent on board with spending the rest of his life loving this woman. She’d seen him at his worst, when he wasn’t his most charming or wearing the sharpest clothes and loved him anyway. Fate had gotten it right this time.