Just a good old-fashioned booty call.
Violet hoped her Lily would cut the ties.
Shawn pointed at Rhys with the index finger of the hand he had wrapped around a beer bottle. “We leave it up to you and our poor man Richard here is gonna be missin’ out on the good stuff on his wedding night.”
It was pure suggestion.
“Fine. Fine. We definitely wouldn’t want our boy here to go without. And I mean, have you seen his wife?” Rhys said with a glint in his eye. “I’m not sure how he’s still hanging out here.”
He lifted his glass. “To one beautiful bride and one lucky asshole who gets to forever have her by his side.”
A chorus of hoots and hollers went up through the wedding party and the small number of guests, and this time Violet really was blushing when her sister was quick to add, “Have you seen her husband? I’m thinkin’ it’s my sister who is antsy to get the heck out of here.”
“Liliana,” Violet hissed under her breath with a laugh.
They were all gonna get it.
Her sister waved her off, lifting her glass, looking so gorgeous in her slinky, dusty blue chiffon dress that Violet was certain she was the one who was stealing the show. “I second what Rhys said—to one beautiful bride—the most beautiful bride to ever live—and to her husband who gets to live his days with someone as amazing as her.”
She met her sister’s eye.
Adoration pulsed.
The sincerity of what she’d said.
“I love you, Violet. I couldn’t ask for a better sister. For a better friend. There is no bigger joy than getting to witness you find the kind of joy you have found because you deserve it more than anyone else. You are the meaning of family. I respect you with all I have and can’t wait to see the love and happiness you find in this life.”
Liliana’s voice turned wry, “And to Richard because he is a great guy even though I was pretty sure I was goin’ to have to chop off his hands and another important piece of his body that first night with how handsy he got. One look, and the boy was a goner.”
She quirked a brow.
Their daddy rumbled a low grumble.
Embarrassed, Violet pressed her face into her husband’s chest, unable to believe these were the kind of toasts their friends and family were gettin’ up to, even though she shouldn’t have been surprised at all.
Richard only held her by the back of the head and laughed, his low, seductive voice reverberating through her, “All right, is someone gonna give a real toast so we can eat that cake? Because truth be told, I am anxious to get my gorgeous wife out of here.”
Violet curled her hand in his shirt and grinned up at him. “You’re in so much trouble.”
He smirked down at her. “I hope so.”
“Yes, someone is going to make a real toast,” her daddy interjected. He walked up to where Rhys had been holding the microphone, took it, and ribbed Rhys with his elbow. “My turn, cowboy,” he teased with a smile.
Chuckling, Rhys stepped aside, while Violet’s mama sidled in closer and took her free hand.
Her mama turned her gaze on her.
Her dark eyes filled with pure, absolute affection. Black hair the same color as Violet’s billowed in the wind.
Love filled Violet to overflowing.
So intense.
So much.
So beautiful.
She squeezed her mama’s hand and mouthed, I love you.
I love you more, she returned.
Her daddy lifted his glass. “To two beautiful people with the proof of love shining in their eyes. To passion. To joy. To family. To fidelity. To everything that will make your relationship continue to flourish and grow like the blooms that flourish around us. May you have a love like the love I’ve shared with your mother. The kind of love that never ends but only grows so deep in your soul it has no chance of wilting.”
Her chest squeezed.
“Violet and Richard…live your life. Run it together. Never stray. I know you have what it takes. Never let that light go dim.”
Everyone lifted their glasses. Richard turned Violet to face him, and she took a sip of the bubbly champagne while everyone cheered, and Richard did the same, their eyes never leaving the others’.
He set both their flutes aside and took her by the hand so he could lead her onto the middle of the dance floor.
On cue, the band struck up.
Richard gathered her in his strong, protective arms, and he began to sway her to the slow song that she hadn’t anticipated would play for their first dance.
But oh, was it familiar.
It hitched her breath in a lump at the base of her trembling throat.
Overwhelming.
Completing.
It was a song that Richard had written one long, beautiful night when they’d stayed up until the day was breaking with the dawn. When they’d dreamed and loved and made vows that would forever go on.
He sang it in her ear while he held her in the strength of his arms.
Life spent running
Chasing down a dream
Never saw you coming
Tripping up my feet
You had my heart stalling
Learning how to beat
Never expected love
Beauty breaking the mold
Ripping up the seams
Getting lost in violet
Colors and dreams
Your love a landslide
I’ll follow you to the end
And then I’ll find you all over again
* * *
They were giggling like mad when they burst into the tattoo parlor at just before midnight. Violet was still wearing her dress and Richard was in his fitted suit.
Standing out. They could hardly care about that.
Richard had arranged the appointment, so two artists were already waiting, the work done in a flash, but still, Violet felt every vibration of what they seared on their skin.
A tiny violet on the inside of Richard’s left wrist, and a miniature music note on the inside of Violet’s.
Music and inspiration.
Trust and fidelity.
Hope and commitment.
Her husband watched her as they marked her, those sage eyes staring right into her soul, that tether that bound them thrumming with devotion.
With the moment.
With the magnitude of
