As the day approached, Ash, Bobby, Vann, and Gavin had the father-of-the-bride mission all planned out. A little chat between Lionel and Vann shortly after the engagement party may have also helped in the cause, but nobody could be sure. There was no telling what Lionel was thinking. That was probably what had made him such a damn successful businessman. He was unreadable.
Ash just hoped it would not go completely sideways.
On the big day, Ash was nervous as hell.
Not because he was having second thoughts. He was without a doubt ready to be with his bride. As far as he was concerned, they were already married. They were bonded by love. She was his, and he was hers. The rest was just a party.
As Bobby helped him with his tie, he was grateful his best man didn’t speak the utterly grotesque phrase “last chance.” Bobby just got him. He knew as well as Ash that there was no question this wedding was happening, with or without Rosemary’s father.
Instead, Bobby said, “I’m proud of you, buddy. I love you like my brother. And I think Rosemary is fantastic. You’re a lucky man.”
Ash agreed. “I am lucky. So lucky that I’m about to take my chances with this ceremony and hope Rosemary doesn’t try to kill me.”
Bobby laughed. “Nah, she’ll understand. Hey, you had a job to do, and the pack gets it done one way or another, right?”
“Yes, we do. I just wish I knew the outcome already so I wouldn’t feel like I was ready to vomit. Why couldn’t we all have been cursed with second sight instead of wolf genes?”
Bobby shrugged as if to say, It’s a little late to wish for that now. He patted his shoulder. “Well. Time to go on upstairs.”
“I believe it’s called a deck. Were you raised in a barn?”
Bobby laughed. “Almost. As you know.”
Moments later, Ash stood under the flowered arch with the justice of the peace, as well as his priestess friend Lucy, who had agreed to take part in the ceremony. Ash, who had never been a fan of having a religious ceremony, had secretly made the priest go away with a donation to the parish. He was not about to pretend to convert. He was going to marry his woman on his terms.
He glanced over at Lucy and crossed his fingers.
From the gangway beyond the ceremony space, Rosemary’s cousin Chastity, wearing the biggest purple ballgown he’d ever seen, gave him the thumbs-up. He nodded back. Chastity then picked up a radio and spoke into it, quietly, so nobody could hear. Then she disappeared around the corner.
Soon, a slight commotion developed near the stern of the boat, behind the gathered guests. A strange, burning smell wafted across to the bow of the boat. That would be sage and burning crystals that Ash had hoped Rosemary wouldn’t notice.
Wedding guests were turning around in their seats, but nobody could see exactly what was happening from that vantage point. The only thing Ash could hear was a man’s voice booming, “Just what kind of half-assed circus is this?” And then Rosemary’s voice, on the verge of tears, “Daddy?” And then silence.
Ash’s heart stood still in his chest as he waited for what would happen next.
The string quartet struck up the processional and now was the moment Ash would find out if his plan—or another one of the plans of the pack—had worked or not. The only question was whether Rosemary was going to be a blushing bride because she was so happy or blushing because she was ready to spit fire.
Ash calmed himself and smiled.
He would take whatever version of Rosemary he would get.
Chapter Sixteen
Ash
The groom closed his eyes as he drank her in, his senses heightened to her sweet taste and scent. He could try to devour every drop of her, but there was always more. She drenched herself shamelessly for him. That’s one of the many things he loved about her.
On the outside, she was a refined Southern belle from old money with finishing-school manners and traditions. But inside? She was a hellcat. And the wolf loved him some kitty cat action.
Ash wouldn’t have his bride any other way.
He looked up to glimpse her flushed face as he ran his fingers along the lace trim of her white thigh-high stockings. “Rosemary Michelle DuChamp Boudreaux, who’s your daddy?”
She smiled down at him. “You are, Ashton Lewis Boudreaux.”
She had to know how fucking insane he had been with his need for her. His need to taste her, nibble on her, to fill her and get lost in her had consumed him from the moment she decided they should abstain until the wedding night. But Ash had played along. He had obeyed and accepted her terms with gritted teeth.
And he swore throughout the engagement that she would pay for this. He had not endured her little games throughout these last few months only to be rewarded with some vanilla missionary wedding-night sex. Not when Rosemary’s spice taunted him daily.
Now she was all his. And she was going to pay. There were no more barriers, least of all the silk and tulle that lay crumpled on the floor by his charcoal morning suit. You don’t fuck with Ash Boudreaux.
He’d done exactly what she’d asked, even if it had taken a little bit of force on the part of the wolf pack. They had gotten old Lionel to the ceremony, and he had walked his only child down the aisle. It was a real tearjerker moment, even if Ash still thought of Lionel as a just-plain jerk.
The ceremony had gone off without a hitch, the reception had been a full-on rager, and his girl was happy. She was about to get a hell of a lot happier.
“Get ready, girl, ’cause I’ve got a present for you.” He snapped her baby
