Another tear rolled down her cheek, but her smile—God. It was like being enveloped by the sun after a long, harsh winter. And her eyes. Liquid brown. So warm that he’d never feel the cold wrought by complete emptiness.

Unable to help himself, he framed her face in his hands and leaned down to capture her lips in a long, sweet kiss.

Hoots and laughter rose from the others. And then the ribbing began.

“Do you need cue cards there, buddy?” Beau asked from behind him. “I’m pretty sure that part comes after ‘you may kiss the bride’.”

Zack broke away to glare at all of them. “I’ll kiss my bride any damn time I want to.”

“Amen to that,” Caleb muttered and was greeted by another round of amused laughter.

Beau shrugged. “The man does have a point. I do kiss my bride any damn time I want to.”

Ari blew her husband a kiss from across the aisle.

Zack smiled down at Gracie, whose tears were gone thanks to laughter. She was so radiant that she glowed like a beacon. A ray of sun. His sunshine.

“What do you say we get properly married?” he asked with a grin.

Then to his surprise, Gracie defied ceremony and circumstance as she leaned up on tiptoe and fused her lips to his. All else fled his mind under the sweetness of her kiss. And when she finally pulled away, he was hard-pressed to remember his own name, much less what he was supposed to do next.

Smiling, she tugged him toward the pastor. “This is the part where we both say ‘I do’.”

“I do,” he whispered so only she could hear. “I do, I will, I always will. And never will we be parted again.”

THIRTY-SIX

ZACK stood in the bay window overlooking the ocean and inhaled the salty air in an effort to settle his nerves. It felt as though someone had their fingers wrapped permanently around his neck in a choke hold. For God’s sake, even his palms were sweaty, and his fingers shook when he unrolled them from the tight fists formed at his sides.

He closed his eyes, lifting one of his fists to rub his hand through his hair and then he gripped the back of his neck with his palm, absently massaging as he tried to get himself together.

Gracie had been nervous the moment they got inside their suite. The tension was palpable when she’d excused herself to go change for bed.

Not wanting to move too fast or shove himself in her face from the start, instead of stripping down—as one might have done when about to embark on his wedding night—he kept his boxers and socks on.

He glanced ruefully down at his sock-covered feet and shook his head, a light chuckle escaping. Socks? Really? The boxers were understandable. The socks were just a result of his own nerves. He quickly toed out of them and kicked them underneath the chair by the window.

He had to get his shit straight before he completely lost it and ruined the night for him and Gracie before it even began. This would be more difficult for Gracie than it ever would be for him. But at the same time, what if he made the wrong move? What if he ended up traumatizing her? The last thing in the world he wanted was for their wedding night to be a disaster because he made some boneheaded move or by him simply not knowing the right thing to do at the right time.

The latter was the more distinct possibility. He felt clumsy and inept, just like the virgin he would have—and should have—been for Gracie. He broke his promise to her but she’d kept her promise to him.

Tonight Gracie would give herself to him and only him. The knowledge that he was the first and only man who would be given such a precious gift nearly brought him to his knees. He was humbled and . . . ashamed.

“Zack?”

Gracie’s wavering voice reached him, and he turned swiftly around, cursing the fact that he’d been so caught up in his deep shame that he’d failed to hear Gracie come out of the bathroom. He should have been there waiting for her, to reassure her instead of her having to be so vulnerable by, in essence, making the first move.

All the breath left his body in a long exhale when his gaze fell over her. His mouth went dry and his heart sped up until he could feel the hard thud against his chest.

She was wearing a white silk, lacy gown that fell in waves down her body to swirl at her feet. Only the tips of her dainty toes peeked out from beneath the hem. Bright pink. He wanted to kiss each and every one of those sweet toes. Just as he wanted to kiss and touch every inch of her satiny skin.

But the bodice. Good Lord, but that was a gown destined to give a man heart failure. He was standing, speechless, staring at her like a prepubescent boy seeing naked pictures of a woman for the first time.

The neckline plunged in a deep V between her breasts, all the way to the indention of her belly button. The material clung strategically to her breasts so they weren’t bared, but the lace was sheer and he could see the shadow of her nipples. He could see their shape puckering against the gown.

Her lips trembled as they formed a smile, and he finally kicked himself into gear so he didn’t remain there gawking at her like a moron for the entire night.

He had to form the words twice, because his first effort to speak just didn’t happen.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said in a hoarse voice roughened by emotion.

She blushed but her eyes lit up and sparkled, her smile widening at his reaction.

“I’m afraid to touch you,” he admitted. “I’m so afraid that if I touch you, I’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. The most wonderful dream of my life, but just a dream nonetheless.”

She moved forward when again it should have been him going to her. Giving her reassurance, love and comfort. Her fingers slid down his arms until they caught and tangled with his, and it was then he felt her trembling and his heart softened. His entire body caved in.

He gathered her hands in between his and gently squeezed as he absorbed the image, the angel, standing before him. Tears burned his eyelids and he tried to swallow them back.

Tonight was not a night for tears. Or sadness. Or regret. Or even shame. Tonight was the night of his dreams. Of all the dreams he’d ever dreamed all rolled together in one wonderful, living, breathing moment.

And yet, he couldn’t quite keep one thing from creeping into his mind and casting shade on all his joy.

“I’m sorry, Gracie,” he choked out.

She looked baffled. She cocked her head to the side and tightened her hold on his hands as if offering him reassurance.