Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)(41)

I pause before repeating the next line Doris feeds me. It’s another thing we haven’t discussed. I’ve always known what type of husband I would be if the day ever came, but what hits me the hardest is that I don’t know if this vow will ring true for Tabitha. And that thought turns my stomach. It makes me irrationally jealous.

So I narrow my eyes at her and brush a thumb over the top of her hand before saying, “I promise to be faithful to you and to place you and our family above all else.”

Tabitha sucks in an audible breath through parted lips, eyes skittering over my face as though looking for proof that I’m lying.

But I’m not.

With a raspy voice, I carry on, professing things to a woman that I never have before.

“I promise to love you completely and unconditionally, today and every day, and to stand at your side always, wherever life takes us together.”

The last line is bittersweet on my tongue. Sweet because in so many ways, this could be us.

Maybe in another lifetime, those things could be true.





CHAPTER 19


Tabitha





I RECITE MY VOWS BACK OVER THE LUMP LODGED IN MY throat. There’s something about the way Rhys is looking at me, his dark eyes so intense on mine that everyone else in the room seems to fade away.

It makes saying these vows out loud a little bit easier. And the way his thumb brushes over the top of my hand any time I get hung up makes it a little bit easier to breathe. Somehow, having Rhys here at all makes the pressure of the day more bearable.

And that confuses the hell out of me. I’m torn in a million directions when it comes to him. We clash, but we also work together. My mind constantly contradicts itself with Rhys.

He’s trying to take Milo from me.

He’s doing everything in his power to keep us together.

He’s turned everything upside down.

He keeps showing up and trying to make everything right.

I hate that he’s here at all.

Having him here makes my life better.

As I mull this over, I miss the rest of what Doris says. I desperately hope it’s not about huge dicks. I chose Doris because she was already a licensed officiant, and I thought she’d keep things blunt and to the point. I didn’t expect her to turn into a romance author over our fucking vows.

Bash steps forward and hands Rhys one of the simple gold bands we agreed upon.

Rhys was dead set on being the one to buy the rings, and I was too tired to fight him. I told him to keep it as cheap as possible and that mine needed to be low-profile for the kitchen.

He takes my hand and murmurs Doris’s words back to me. “I give you this ring as a sign of my love and devotion.” The metal is warm, but I shiver as I watch him slip it over my knuckle and reverently slide it up my finger.

I clear my throat and peek up at him. He looks so fucking handsome. Chin-length hair slicked back, stubble trimmed tight, shoulders impossibly wide. I suppose at the very minimum, we’re attracted to each other, and that’s not an awful place to start.

When Rosie steps up to hand me Rhys’s ring, I startle, shaken from lusting over my almost-husband. She smiles as she passes me the ring, and my hand trembles when it lands in my palm. As I stare down at it, my stomach goes diving off a cliff. That free-fall feeling that wakes you up in a dream before you hit the ground. That bone-deep, what-the-fuck-am-I-doing feeling.

But Rhys is there to steady me. His big, warm palm slides under my wrist, fingers curling gently around my forearm. Without me asking, he’s still supporting. I can’t even turn my face up to his because I know what I’ll see. Furrowed brow, concern, and care. It’ll be that day I got the world’s mildest burn on my hand all over again. The one when he demanded I let him take care of me.

Sometimes he makes it really hard to hate him.

I take his calloused hand in my trembling grip. “I give you this ring as a sign of my love and devotion,” I say in a thick voice, my words brimming with more affection than I intended as I slip the gold band onto his finger.

The sight immobilizes me. The finality of it. The realization that we just went all in on this whole charade. My heart pounds, and I can’t look away from Rhys’s hands. Big and tan. Strong and gentle. Mine and yet…not mine at all.

For a flash, I wonder how they’d feel elsewhere on my body. In my hair. Running over my back. Between my—

My train of thought comes to a screeching halt as Doris’s scratchy voice blasts into my head. “You may now kiss the bride.”

My stomach falls again, and sparks shoot through my chest. We haven’t talked about this part of the ceremony. We’re two grown-ass adults—we don’t need to plan out a kiss. It’s just a kiss. I’ve kissed plenty of men, so this will be no different. And despite whatever my body is doing right now, it’s just for show.

The facts don’t stop my cheeks from flushing, and they don’t stop us from drawing closer to each other either. He takes one step, and I take one step, neither of us resisting the pull.

My breath stutters when one of his masculine hands slips over my hip with a level of familiarity that doesn’t match our situation at all. His palm burns hot and firm against my bare lower back, and suddenly I don’t have to imagine what it would feel like for him to touch me there. Now I know.

My tongue darts out over my lips as I crane my neck, turning my face up to his. Dark eyes scour my features as though searching for something before his fingers trail through my hair gently as he hooks a loose lock behind my ear with heartrending tenderness. His palm cradles my skull, and my lips part on a shaky breath.