Page 96 of Hot for the Boss

“Oh, I have so many plans for you, my soon-to-be Mrs. Cook.”

She winks. “I’m counting on it.”

Chapter Fifteen

Two o’clock finally rolls around. It’s a balmy, breezy day. Blindingly sunny. Cheerful. Hopeful.

Wearing a dark gray tuxedo, I stand in front of a tall, rectangular trellis on Keeley and Maxon’s lawn, framing a stretch of Hawaiian beach mere feet beyond. It’s wrapped in flowing white drapes and trimmed with what seems like hundreds of white tropical flowers. In fact, everything around me is white—the bows around the chairs, the ribbons, the runner down the middle of the aisle. It’s all pristine and beautiful. Classic.

Keeley, Britta, and Harlow have done a fantastic job tossing these nuptials together in under two weeks. It’s a far cry from my wedding to Becca. This is a true celebration of the union between me and the first woman to truly hold my heart.

I’m past caring if that sounds illogical. It’s undeniable. Sebastian advised me to just go with it. I am. He’s my best man. We’ve been friends for nearly a decade and apparently he gives damn good advice. I wouldn’t be here today without him.

As if he knows what I’m thinking, Bas claps me on the back. “You look happy.”

I nod. “Maybe for the first time ever. I never thought I’d say this, but thank you for taking me to the burlesque club to show me a nearly naked Nia.”

“You’re welcome.” Bas winks. “I had a suspicion you’d like the view.”

“I did. But after that, I couldn’t not see her as a woman. I needed that.” Just like I needed Nia, her open arms, and her big heart.

He laughs. “Did you ever…”

The ending strains of a song floats through the salt-heavy air, just above the distant sounds of the crashing surf. A woman on a pre-recorded track is waxing vocally through the speakers about her special man and wanting a couple of forevers with him. I hope Nia feels that way about me. I hope we spend the next fifty years together, raising our children and building a good life. I refuse to think something terrible could happen to take her or the baby from me. Not today, not when I’m just beginning to really live.

Maxon, Griff, and Noah finish escorting the last of our guests to their chairs, then take their own seats. My side of the aisle is more crowded than Nia’s. Even so, I couldn’t miss her cousin Annabelle—a lovely African-American woman flanked by three hovering lawyers. Hard to believe she’s committed to them all. It’s an unconventional relationship, but it works for them. Eric and Kellan seem like decent guys, but I really connected with Tate. If they lived closer, I’ll bet he and I would be great friends.

On one side of the altar, Keeley’s bright red hair glints in the sun as her bohemian blue dress flows around her ankles. She smiles at me, microphone in hand. Britta and Harlow both stand at the back in the open doorway of the picturesque bed-and-breakfast, waiting for their musical cue.

Finally the song ends. Harlow lifts her arm and holds up her thumb. Nia is ready. This is it, the moment I’ve been wanting all day. Hell, for weeks.

She’s really going to marry me.

The opening notes to another song begins. A piano taps out slow, almost thoughtful groups of notes. Then Keeley chimes in with a slow ballad about having her lover’s heart forever. More instruments join in. A drum. A violin. The musicians must be behind the drape. It’s still a simple arrangement. It’s also sweeping and romantic.

As Nia comes toward me on Lorenzo’s arm, the song echoes the sentiment in my heart. I am truly in love, truly head-over-heels. I need her. I may be tying myself to her today, but her devotion, quite simply, has set me free.

She draws closer—and steals my breath dressed in a simple sheath dress. Sheer straps cling to her shoulders and mirror the lace that covers her from the tops of her breasts to the bottoms of her ankles. A band of white flowers flows along the top of her head. A long stretch of tulle falls from it, all the way to the floor.

And she’s smiling at me. The expression is open, genuine, and full of joy. She’s ecstatic to be marrying me. My heart feels so light, as if it’s so filled with helium it might float out of my chest.

As Keeley finishes singing, Nia reaches my side, white bouquet in hand. Lorenzo hands her off to me with a smile as bright as any proud father’s and gives me a clap on the back. “Take care of her.”

“I will,” I vow.

To my left, I hear Guilia quietly sniffling. On my right, my foster mother, Diana, does the same. My siblings and their spouses are all smiling. And my wife-to-be looks at me like she can’t wait to say “I do.”

Lono starts the ceremony, his loud Hawaiian shirt billowing in the breeze. Nia’s hands shake when he tells me to take them in mine. We speak our vows, looking into one another’s eyes. Her voice trembles. My heart thuds.

The last few years flash through my memories. The day I interviewed her, she entered my tiny office wearing a confident tilt of her head and a purple suit, demonstrating an organized style that blew me away. I remember the first time Becca was too overwhelmed by a corporate event I needed her to organize so I could woo a client. Nia stepped in at the last minute to play hostess, decked in a red dress that stole the show and had my potential customer panting. I definitely can’t forget the night she came to my place to make me gumbo and I first saw her not just as a female but as a beautiful woman I desire.

Finally, Lono says to kiss my bride. No one needs to tell me twice.

With a smile, I bend and cup Nia’s face. “You’re mine now, wife.”

“Kiss me, husband.”

Her words are faint but unmistakable above the Hawaiian breeze. And I take them to heart, sealing our vows with the first meeting of our mouths, signaling the beginning of our lives together.