Remy (Real Book 3)

The church is small, hot, and, now, packed with attendees.

Up front, flowers line up against the wall beneath a massive cross that seems to watch over the churchgoers.

The last time I’d looked at a cross, it had been held over my head while I was tied and furious in my bed. Not for a moment had I stopped squirming. I was bleeding from the binds they’d used to strap me in various places. I don’t remember that directly. But I do remember waking up from a hypnosis session to be told exactly what I described, and what I said. Did it matter? No. Do I wonder about it? No. It’s as inconsequential as a dream.

Her family is here. Her friends.

A cross. The circle.

Never cared much for praying, but for my son and my wife’s safety, I pray.

From the door of the church behind me, I hear “Gah!” and I twist around and see him. Racer.

He obviously saw me, and his two chubby arms are flailing in the air and his dimple is aimed my way. Josephine shows him a toy, and he is immediately attracted to its bright red color. He grabs it and sticks it in his mouth. And my heart starts whacking when I see the closed doors behind them.

After all we’ve been through, my wife is finally here to marry me.

“Dude, I’m going to get sentimental.”

“Shut it,” I whisper.

Murmurs surround us as the choir sets up. We discussed this for weeks. We didn’t want a wedding march.

But, at the end of the day, Brooke actually did. She’d frowned as we stepped out of the shower and used her towel to dry her hair first, “Now that I think about it, it’s the only time in our lives we’ll hear that song. I’m only ever marrying you.”

I dragged my towel over my chest, then I hooked it around her waist, using it to pull her against me. “What do you want? Tell me what you want so I can give it to you?”

She flattened her breasts to my diaphragm as I spread the towel to engulf us both. “I want a tiny little church where it’s almost just us,” she whispered, kissing my Adam’s apple and then reaching up to caress my dimples. “And I want the march, the white dress, white roses, and you. Every second after our vows, I want to be with you.”

I seized her chin and tipped her head back farther, my lips curling. “Then your wish,” I whispered, kissing her lips, “is mine to grant.”