Page 119 of Xander

And while I’d rather keep Selene with me while Jordan got ready, our daughter was a diva who refused to take the bottle. Jordan needed to be around to feed her, no matter how much the separation from my family killed me.

My family… with the woman of my dreams.

“What are you doing here? You know it’s bad luck⁠—”

“For the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding,” I finished, bouncing my daughter in my arms. I widened my eyes at her until she smiled. “Yes, I know, but I was fed up with watching Caden drink all the wine.”

Jordan rolled her eyes. “There’s plenty of wine. And seriously, Xander,” she said, putting her hands on my arms and steering me toward the exit, “you need to leave. I won’t have you jinxing this wedding.”

“You love me,” I said, letting myself be steered, “jinx and all.”

“I do,” she sighed, taking the baby back even as I protested.

Our foreheads rested against each other’s as we took in this moment, our wedding day with our daughter in our arms. At times, I didn’t feel like I deserved any of this, even though nothing would have persuaded me to give up what I had now.

We were supposed to have been married months ago but complications with her pregnancy forced us to move back the date. I would’ve opted for a courthouse marriage but Jordan deserved at least one real wedding. I couldn’t take that from her no matter how badly I’d wanted to seal the deal.

“Do me a favor and get along with your cousins today. Let them have all the wine they want.”

“Only if you kiss me.”

She looked over at the stylist, who was waiting impatiently, and then smiled and shrugged, leaning up to plant a lingering kiss on my lips. She smelled like honeysuckle and dusty sunshine, and it took every inch of my control not to drag her away somewhere and have her all to myself.

“What do you think their story is?” I whispered.

“They’re about to kill you if you don’t leave,” she said, combing her fingers absently through our daughter’s hair, “and that would be really sad because then Selene won’t have a father.”

“I love you, Mrs. Maxwell,” I said.

She beamed at me, and it felt like the sun was shining upon me. “I love you, too, Mr. Maxwell. Now get the puck out of here…”

I laughed and left, while the stylist and assistant rushed in to continue their work, putting my hands in the pockets of my suit.

The bartender already had a Manhattan waiting for me, courtesy of my soon-to-be wife. I took a long, decadent sip, enjoying the warmth of the sun.

But as comfortable as that golden bliss was, it was nothing compared to knowing I had the love of my beautiful goddess of a wife.

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