Blame it on the Champagne (Blame it on the Alcohol 1) - Page 112

I never got to finish. He pulled me into his arms and slammed his mouth down on mine. I didn’t hesitate. I sunk into his hard body, relaxing in his arms like I was coming home. I lost myself to the soft give of his lips, swearing to never go so long without kissing him again.

“Are you sure?” he asked between kisses.

I nodded, not wanting to pull my mouth away, but not given a choice when he pulled back to frame my face and meet my eyes.

“I love you, and I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry for everything, Vera. I may have started all this for revenge, but you have to know that how much I love you is true. Everything that brought us here—all the moments, the tiny traditions we created of our own—that was all real. We are real, and I will take every day you let me to prove it to you. And if you let me, I’ll do it forever and not just five years.”

“Fuck five years. I want to burn that contract, too. I want it all, Nico. I want you.”

“You have me. I’m yours.”

“Prove it,” I challenged.

With a growl, he gripped my ass and hoisted me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and went back to kissing him.

We bumped into furniture, and I didn’t even bother coming up for air around our laughs as he carried me to our bedroom, where he spent hours proving how much he was mine, and I was his.

By the time night fell, we finally got our night in front of the fire, celebrating our love the same way it all began.

With a bottle of champagne.EpilogueNico“I still do, and I always will.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and the dimples I loved so much made an appearance with them. The sun reflecting off the water like tiny diamonds illuminated her face, bringing out the pale freckles I could stare at forever.

“I still do, and I always will,” she said.

The officiator spoke words on the importance of keeping our promise to each other now and forever, but all I could focus on was her smiling face and soft lips. It’d been almost twenty-four hours since I’d kissed my wife, and a second longer stretched like an eternity.

“Nico,” she whispered, laughing.

“What?”

“Kiss your bride,” she ordered.

I’d been so lost in her, I’d missed my cue, but I didn’t have to be told twice.

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I locked my lips on hers and hoisted her against my chest. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her smiling mouth pressed to mine, locking me in the most secure embrace I feared I’d never have again.

Soft applause mixed with the crashing of the waves, so different from the roaring applause of strangers at our first wedding.

“I love you, Nicholas Knightly Rush,” she said softly against my lips.

I’d never tire of hearing it or saying it in return. “I love you too, Verana Camila Rush.”

A loud catcall pulled us from our bubble, and I didn’t even have to look to know Raelynn was the culprit.

Linking my hand with hers, I turned us to walk down the short aisle, past the four benches of guests. I looked to my grandpa first and stood a little taller when he winked before wiping a stray tear. Rae cheered the loudest, earning an eye roll from the mountain of a man I’d come to know as Austin. Nova elbowed Rae but laughed, softening the blow. Xander and his wife stood next to Ryan and a few other close associates from the Charleston office.

This was the wedding we were always meant to have.

The night after we burned our contract and divorce papers, I asked her to marry me all over again. I got down on one knee in front of the fire, and damn-near begged her to marry me again. Making me luckier than I deserved, she agreed, tackling me to the blankets for another round of celebration.

“Ready for cake?” I asked.

“I’m always ready for cake.”

“Do I get to shove it in your face this time?”

“You can try,” she challenged.

We all made our way over to the small tent set up close by, where music played, and champagne was already being served.

Similar to our other wedding, we threw this one together within a month, knowing that trying to pick Mariano Shipping back up to where it needed to be would take all our time and effort.

In that month, Vera decided to get her MBA and further her education. She claimed she wanted to run her family’s company, but only when she was the best she could be.

My wife never ceased to amaze me.

“A toast,” Grandpa Charlie said, holding up his glass of champagne. Everyone dutifully followed suit. “To my grandson and my beautiful new granddaughter. I don’t know what I did to deserve you both, but I’m glad Nicholas could pull his head out of his ass long enough to win you over for the both of us.”

Tags: Fiona Cole Blame it on the Alcohol Romance
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