I looked down at Tate, barely hearing his words. “I love you,” I whispered.
I love you, too, she mouthed, smiling.
The people around us listened to the officiant’s short speech about love and communication, trust and tolerance, but I didn’t take my eyes off Tate for a single second.
It’s not that we didn’t need to listen. We knew we didn’t know everything, and we knew we were going to fight. We’d learned too many lessons the hard way to take for granted how far we’d come.
But I couldn’t not look at her. It was too perfect a day.
The officiant passed it off to me as Jax handed him the rings, and he handed me Tate’s.
I put in on her finger, sliding it only halfway as I spoke only to her.
“As my friend, I liked you,” I whispered. “As my enemy, I craved you. As a fighter, I loved you, and as my wife”—I slid the ring the rest of the way on—“I keep you.” I squeezed her hand. “Forever,” I promised.
Silent tears spilled down her cheeks, and she smiled, even though her chest shook. Taking my ring from the man’s hand, she slipped it on my finger.
“When you left me the first time, I was devastated,” she said, speaking of when we were fourteen. “And when you left me the second time, I was defiant. But both times I regret,” she admitted, keeping her voice low. “I always fought with you instead of fighting for you, and if I commit to doing one thing differently for the rest of our lives, Jared”—she inhaled a deep breath, steadying her voice—“it would be to make sure you always know that I will fight for you.” She blinked, sending more tears down her cheeks. “Forever.”
I knew it without needing to hear her say it, but it still felt good to hear. Being a kid was hard. Being a kid with no one to count on changed my life. And hers. She knew how much I needed her.
I saved the officiant the trouble and took the back of her neck in my hand before pulling her in for a kiss.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pressed her body into mine and kissed my wife for almost longer than necessary, getting lost in her taste and scent, before pulling back slightly to lean my forehead into hers.
Laughter and snickers erupted around us, but I didn’t care. I’d waited long enough, in my opinion.
After the ceremony, Madoc slapped me on the shoulder as we all trailed toward the cars. “I’ll lead,” he instructed, meaning what, I didn’t know.
We had a lot of cars between us all, but I saw no reason to make a parade.
But whatever.
Climbing in the black limo behind Tate, I closed the door and instructed the driver to follow the GTO. He then closed the privacy glass, and I wasted no time hauling Tate into my lap.
I bunched up the dress to allow her legs to straddle me, and the poor girl sank into a cloud like it was a patch of quicksand. I saw just her face.
“I really love this dress”—I slid my hands up her silky thighs—“but it’s a pain in the ass.”
I took her hips in my hands and pulled her in for a kiss, not caring that she was messing up my hair, which my mother had made me style to perfection today.
The limo took off, following the GTO and trailed by everyone else.
“Our wedding turned me on,” I admitted, slipping my hand inside her underwear. “Will you let me get to third base right now?” I teased.
She nuzzled into my neck, kissing and playing, and—I closed my eyes, groaning—fuck dinner. We needed a room.
But horns sounded outside, and Tate sat up, peering out the window.
“What the hell?” she breathed out, sliding off my lap.
I winced, my cock stretching painfully against my pants.
Looking out the window, I immediately rolled it down, seeing the city street littered with all of our friends. All of them not invited to the ceremony, because it was family only.
What? Horns honked, people whistled, and I even noticed a few of Tate’s old track teammates clapping.
Although it was a surprise, it was kind of touching to see the people we’d grown up with sharing this.
“Oh, he did not . . . ,” Tate seethed, thinking the exact same thing I was.
Madoc.
He’d told everybody.
And speak of the devil. I leaned out the window, seeing that Madoc had done a U-turn and cruised past us, grinning from ear to ear.
“I lied,” he admitted, all too proud of himself. “Huge fucking party at my house.” And he sped off laughing.
Tate’s wide eyes met mine, and she shook her head, amazed.
All of these people were going to be there, apparently.
I rolled up the window, and Tate slid back onto my lap, sighing.
“He’s got rooms,” she taunted over my mouth, looking at the bright side. “Lots of rooms for us to get lost in.”
And I leaned up, grabbing her lips with mine as I shucked off my jacket. “Who needs a room?”
Chapter 19
Tate
One Year Later
“You need to relax,” Pasha scolded, standing next to me. “It’s his last race, so stop fussing.”
I craned my neck while fidgeting with my hands, seeing Jared weave around all the twists and turns, and I really hated how his bike always looked like it was about to tip over when he leaned into a curve.
“I can’t,” I choked out, sticking my thumbnail in my mouth. “I hate it when he’s out there.”
All of us stood off to the side—Pasha, Madoc, Jax, Juliet, Fallon, and me—lucky enough in not having to stay in the bleachers with the crowd, but unfortunately, we didn’t have as great a view, either. Jared’s mom and stepdad were up there, and Addie, Madoc’s housekeeper, was back at the hotel with Quinn and Hawke, Jax and Juliet’s infant son. The speedway in Anaheim was packed with fans wanting to see Jared’s last race, and although he was going to miss racing, we decided he needed to focus his full attention on the business, JT Racing.