His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(144)
Author: Shayla Black

Tara giggled. “The bigger one is Cal, Deke and Kimber’s son.”

The imp had big eyes a shade somewhere between blue and green, golden-blond hair, and a mischievous mien. He all but danced up the aisle.

“The other is Tyler’s oldest son, Seth. He’s going to be just like his daddy—trouble,” Kata vowed. “OMG, did you see him wink at Sweet Pea?”

“Yep. Just like his daddy.” Tara leaned forward and shook her head at Kata.

“Shh,” Logan warned as the kids sat in the front row.

London came down the aisle next, draped in a gorgeous Tiffany-blue chiffon that floated over her pregnant belly and flowed to the ground. Her blond hair was tucked into a feminine, romantic updo, complete with tendrils at her temples and nape.

She was escorted by Thorpe, who cut a gorgeous, commanding figure in a black tux.

Sean waited at the altar, smiling at Thorpe and nodding London’s way. They both took their places, then turned to look down the aisle. The music changed. Rather than the traditional wedding march, the strains of something haunting and lovely filled the room.

Callie appeared in a stunning beaded white dress that took Bailey’s breath away. Sean and Thorpe’s, too, judging from the looks on their faces. A long white veil floated on top of her train. Even the thin tulle over her face couldn’t disguise her big blue eyes or the sublime joy stretching her smiling red lips.

She wore her blue-black hair upswept in a do like London’s, except it looked more intricate and was studded with crystals that played off her dress and artful clusters of baby’s breath.

Bailey had never seen a more radiant bride.

“Oh, wow . . .” Kata breathed. “I’m jealous. I wore a leather skirt and the first shirt I plucked out of my suitcase to my wedding.”

“You looked great,” Hunter assured her.

Bailey turned to look at the pair. She would love to know that story someday.

Callie glided down the aisle, graceful and strong, then passed her flowers to London. Sean took her hands, and they looked into each other’s eyes. The love between them filled the room, sweetening the air. Impossible to miss the hope and anticipation for the future decorating this celebration of their joining.

The ceremony didn’t last long. Their vows made Bailey cry. No use lying. She envied Callie’s happy ending, but knew the woman had been through hell and thoroughly deserved it.

The officiant pronounced them husband and wife, then instructed Sean to kiss his bride. He let out a great big whoop. Everyone laughed, and the photographer moved in and captured their first tender, passionate kiss as man and wife.

When they broke apart, Sean shuffled to Callie’s side and Thorpe moved closer, taking her shoulders in hand. The smile he bestowed on her made Bailey’s heart catch. Not just love, but pride and devotion and an abiding commitment to their future. He might not be the groom, but in that look, he vowed to stay by Callie’s side and be every bit the partner to her that Sean had just sworn to be. She mouthed that she loved him. Sean wrapped a hand around her waist as Thorpe kissed her forehead, then bent to take her mouth in a sweet, lingering kiss of promise.

Then the three of them held hands and turned to face the crowd. Tears of joy streamed down Callie’s face. The men’s expressions both beamed with happiness and pride. Their guests clapped. Bailey found herself tearing up again. She’d bet there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.

The officiant announced Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie. The trio made their way back down the aisle, man and wife and—as Thorpe was fond of calling himself—the only other man.

The reception would be hosted outside in the gardens, so the crowd began to spill out through the tall, ornate chapel doors. Bailey watched wistfully as everyone took his or her spouse’s or lover’s hand and they smiled fondly at each other, sharing a glance full of past secrets and future promises.

Where was Joaquin today? Bailey knew she should stop tormenting herself about the man and what would never be, but she doubted he’d ever leave her heart. Their few days together had been intense. When he’d dragged her from her bed in Houston, she’d never imagined falling in love. Parts of the last week had been harrowing, even terrible. But she’d come out on the other side, stronger and more certain than ever who she was. Like Callie, she’d adopted this haphazard group of friends and relatives as her own. She might never have the man, but she wouldn’t be alone again. There was comfort in that.

“The weather is perfect for the reception,” Tara said, rising and casting a glance Logan’s way. “We should have waited for an April wedding. August was terrible.”