Page 131 of My Big Fat Shifter Wedding

“Nope,” I said brightly. “That ruins the magic. I’m going to keep my back turned and toss it wherever feels right. Wherever the bouquet wants to go, it will go.”

“Fair enough,” he said, his keen gaze scanning the crowd assembled behind me. “You’ve got a broad range here.”

“I know,” I answered, smiling down into my flowers. Strange to think there had once been a time when I had felt alone within my family. How times had changed.

“All right, is everyone ready?” Amanda called. “We want a clear fight for love here. No punching, kicking, spinning, or scratching! No shifting into another form or summoning a magical spirit to destroy the competition! Got it?”

A chorus of affirmative answers sounded, and I took that as my cue, beginning my own countdown.

“One! Two! Three! Catch!”

When we had first talked to our florists, I had a particular ask. While I had always loved bouquet tosses, I also wanted to preserve some of the gorgeous arrangement to be kept forever, and I’d wanted to turn some of it into keepsakes. I also didn’t want to take out any frailer family members with the sheer size of my wedding bouquet. So, what I tossed was a detachable part that was just as lovely on its own but less likely to cause a petal-based concussion.

Which meant I was able to really lob that beautiful sucker.

I gave it my all, swinging it behind my head to give it plenty of arc. When it had left my hands, I turned around and watched the beautiful chaos that always came with such an event.

It was everything I wanted and more.

Those who had clustered the closest behind me were now in a mad dash to try to sprint after the flower missile, all of them getting in each other’s way and occasionally stumbling. Those in the middle were also running, but instead of trying to untangle themselves from each other, it was more like they were all converging on wherever their brain estimated the bouquet would land.

And then there were the outfielders. I liked to think they were the ones who knew me best, knew that I was going to pelt that beautiful arrangement of various blooms as hard as I could. They were the calmest of all of them, if only because they didn’t really have to scramble and could instead carefully calculate the best place for them to be to intercept the airborne bouquet.

It was a madhouse, an utter madhouse, and I was delighted when Keith started laughing with me. Was it the highest brow of humor? No. But he got me.

One of the many reasons why I loved him.

But, my practically perfect husband aside, I watched as the separate throngs of my pack members became less distinguishable and it was all a mass of enthusiastic Italian shifters trying to grab a bit of good luck. I was grateful that neither Miss Angela nor Amanda was participating, because at this point, it wasn’t safe for humans.

It was wild and chaotic. It was perfectly imperfect in every way and only became more so as the bouquet finally began to descend, and my relatives started jumping for it.

By that point, it was nearly impossible to keep track of what happened. But then the triplets came out of nowhere, running up the backs of those who had jumped too soon and landed hard only to launch themselves impossibly high into the air.

One, two, three small hands made contact with the flying blossoms and when the trio landed together, there was utter silence.

Everyone stared, clearly shocked, and even the triplets looked startled, like they hadn’t thought about what to do if their plan succeeded. But it was in that silence when I heard the voice of their mom, Vedette’s daughter, who was almost always desperately trying to catch a nap whenever her mother offered to watch them at family events.

“Athos, Porthosa, Aramia, put those flowers down!”

Wait… those are their names? Really?

“I thought they were called Moesha, Larry, and Curly?” Keith murmured from beside me.

“I could have sworn it was Ronnie, Bonnie, and Connie,” I mused right back.

“Some auntie you are.”

“The worst.”

The entire situation was hilarious, and I was sure we’d talk about it for days to come. It got even better when someone dived for the triplets and they took off, tossing the bouquet between them anytime someone got close. It was a parade of single people who were only half-seriously chasing down the three miscreants, and I could only hope that the photographers were filming and snapping all the pics.

It was pure, unadulterated chaos. People were laughing, falling over themselves, and diving after the whirling force of nature that was our own Italian version of the three wolf-sketeers. I looked to Keith, and he must have seen me move in his peripheral vision, because his gaze met mine.

“Welcome to the pack,” I murmured, tilting my face up to him. And just like I hoped, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me flush against him.

“Happy to be here.”

And then he kissed me.