Everyone cheered and clapped as Preacher dragged me to my feet and squeezed me into his side. I didn’t mind being manhandled by him. He was so strong, so much bigger than me, but he was always very gentle.
“I have a surprise,” he murmured so only I could hear.
“Another one?” I joked. But he shook his head. He was serious.
“I was going to tell you in private, but I think everyone could use the good news.”
“What is it?”
He smiled at me and gave me a quick, hard kiss before whispering in my ear.
“It’s Paul.”
“Tell me,” I said before answering the question in his beautiful blue eyes. “Tell everyone.”
“I have other news to share. Our friend, my brother and your pastor, has received an experimental treatment and is starting to show some promising signs of recovery. It will be a long journey for him, and he may never reach full remission, but God willing, it looks like he will be around for years to come.” The crowd cheered and quieted. “Just not here. He has to stay close to the treatment center for the foreseeable future. But he loves you all and will visit as soon as he is able.”
Everyone whooped and hollered, overjoyed. Everyone except me. I punched his shoulder.
“How long have you known?”
“I found out this morning,” he said with a wicked gleam in his eye. “But feel free to rough me up anytime you like.”
My eyes got wide. So he liked it rough, did he? I asked him and he laughed.
“I like anything and everything with you, darlin’.”
We were immediately surrounded by well wishers. Everyone wanted to know when the wedding was (two weeks) and where Paul was. Preacher wouldn’t say.
“Where was he, anyway? Which one of us did he lie to?” I asked as we cleaned up. The paper plates and scraps went right into one of the three rotating composters in the back, and everything else was neatly contained in biodegradable garbage bags.
“Neither one of us, actually. He went to both places. He had more luck in Mexico.”
“That’s where he is now?”
“He’s staying at my shack between treatments. I told him he could stay there forever, but he’s looking for his own digs nearby.”
He smiled tenderly at me.
“Would you like to go see him, sweetheart? If the doctor says you can travel, of course.”
“If the doctor says you can travel!” I countered, putting my hands on my hips. He chuckled and pulled me against him. “Sweetheart, I’ve been cleared for everything.”
I harrumphed and said something about his being reckless, but I couldn’t really complain. The man had been spoiling me rotten since the cabin and making love to me so much we were both short of sleep. But I wouldn’t have changed a thing.
“Are we really getting married in two weeks?”
“Are you really against going to Reno for the weekend and getting hitched?” he countered, leaning his forehead against mine. “Because I don’t want to wait that long.”
“You are going to make me ruin my heels,” chided Clarice as she tottered over on six-inch stilettos. The garden path was mostly pebbles with a few steppingstones. But God forbid she wear practical footwear. She’d told me many times that comfortable shoes were against her religion. “Managing a wedding in two weeks. You are crazy, Preacher.”
“If anyone can do it, it’s you, Clarice.”
She scoffed and adjusted her hair.
“Well, that is the truth. But I’m still going to need a spa weekend when it’s over.”
“Consider it a thank you gift. You pick the place.”
She smiled wide and gave Preacher a kiss, then looked at me.
“This man of yours is a handful, you know that, honey?”
“I know,” I said, pulling her in for a hug. “Thank you for helping me.”
“Helping? Honey, I am running the show. This wedding is The Love Boat, and I’m Julie, the cruise director!”
I laughed and hugged her again, more than relieved that someone else was taking the lead. The baby was making me tired all the time. With Preacher keeping me up all hours on top of it, I needed at least two naps a day.
“Getting sleepy, sweetheart?”
I nodded, my eyes already drifting shut. Preacher’s friends had temporarily gone back home, so we were staying at the parsonage more often. I smiled as he lifted me up and carried me across the street.
I was asleep before we even made it inside.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Preacher
“So, all I do is hold the ring?”
I nodded solemnly at the handsome young man nervously shifting his weight back and forth beside me. I had asked Marcus to be my best man. And today, I was getting married.
“Hold the ring and show your support. I need it. I’m a little nervous.”
“About getting married?”
“Hell, no.” I laughed. “A little worried the bride will get cold feet! I am marrying up, my friend. I highly recommend it.”
Marcus giggled and shook his head.
“You are funny, Preacher. Cynthia is a real catch, though!”
“Don’t I know it. Don’t I know it.”
I straightened my tie. For some godforsaken reason, I’d allowed Clarice to dress me today. I was wearing a vintage navy suit that she’d custom fit to my measurements. I had to admit that I did look sharp, even if it was not my normal way of dressing.
I’d put my foot down when she tried to get me in a man bun, however.
My hair was down, brushed, and looking a little more polished than usual, thanks to some pomade she’d pressed into it, using what she called ‘prayer hands’.
Seemed appropriate, given the circumstances.
God had answered a whole lot of prayers. Prayers and dreams and wishes I didn’t even know I had. And he’d done it all with one very special package.
I looked around the church as it filled up with folks from the neighborhood as well as half the damned bikers in California. I nodded at folks as they came in, but I didn’t move from my spot. I hadn’t lied to Marcus. I was nervous.
Cynthia was way out of my league in almost every way, and I knew it. The crazy thing was, she didn’t seem to think so. She truly believes that I’m wonderful, I reminded myself. She was out of her mind to be agreeing to this, I decided, but I was damned lucky that she was.
Basically, I was marrying a beautiful lunatic.
I grinned, knowing it wasn’t true. My lady had her head on straight. She had shown me parts of myself I hadn’t known were there anymore. She had shown me that all I had to do was let go of my anger at the world and I could start to shine. Not as brightly as she did, but enough.
Her spit and polish job was of the spiritual nature. Basically, she’d loved me back into being myself. Still a badass, certainly. But she’d also helped me become the man I was meant to be before my sister died—a spiritual man, a strong leader, and someone who cared about his community.
Both of them.
I hadn’t realized ‘normals’ could be so fucking amazing, I thought as I looked out at the crowd. The church was bursting at the seams. Folks from the neighborhood had turned out in droves. But that was nothing compared to the amount of leather in here.
All the couples I’d married had shown up. I couldn’t lie. I was a little nervous that I’d be getting some payback for my past indiscretions today. Cynthia didn’t deserve to pay the price for my twisted sense of humor. But Cain was performing the ceremony, and he was more than happily married, so I knew he wouldn’t even think about kissing the bride.
The single guys, on the other hand . . . well, they made me more than a little worried.
Especially since Handsome Nick was back. That was his new nickname, apparently. It hadn’t started with the bikers, though.
It had started with Clarice.
Once Hunter, Vice, and Drake had heard it, though, all bets were off. I even heard Devlin call him that as Nick
showed him and Kaylee to their seats. Yeah, all of my groomsmen were bikers, and somehow, they’d all gotten the spit and polish routine from Clarice as well.
Handsome Nick. I chuckled to myself. Clarice had a way with words. I guess I should be glad she didn’t call me ‘Big-Dicked Preacher’.
It felt like Marcus and I were standing there forever, waiting. But then everything happened very fast. The music started. The crowd got very quiet. And then an angel appeared.
Not my angel.
A literal angel.
Clarice was wearing a silver dress with wings. I cracked a smile. I couldn’t help it. The woman was always a visual dynamo. I didn’t care that she hadn’t started out as a woman. I didn’t know anyone who liked being a woman more. She embraced it, having more fun with clothes and shoes and fashion that anyone, well, ever.
And her big heart and sassy ways were beyond compare.
Yeah, Clarice was 100% woman, in my book. And 100% family.
A couple of girls from the dance crew came next, sprinkling rose petals as they went. The petals were not from a fancy florist. They were collected from our very own neighborhood just this morning. It wasn’t the kind of thing I would normally give two shits about, but right now, it fucking made me tear up.
And then I stopped thinking completely.
Cynthia stood at the back of the church, entirely dressed in white. Her gown was ivory in color, the softness complementing her skin so that it glowed. It was also vintage—I knew because Clarice had told me—with lace sleeves, a wide skirt, and a nipped-in waist. Her beautiful hair was down but pinned back at the temples with pearl encrusted combs. A veil floated over her bouncy waves, and her beautiful face was serene and so pretty it almost hurt to look at her.
Just like that, all of my fears disappeared.
She loved me. Her face said it all. She wasn’t nervous at all.
A feeling of euphoria filled me. It washed everything else away, all the years of loneliness and hard living. I was as fresh and clean as the day I was born.
I barely even noticed the hulking biker who handed Cynthia off to me. Hunter had a bow in his beard, I noticed in a daze. I almost giggled. Clarice strikes again!
I squeezed her hand and faced the pulpit. Cain was doing the service, which was ridiculous because the man hardly ever said two words. Still, I was an Untouchable first, and he was my club’s President. If anyone deserved the honor, it was him.
Plus, I knew he would keep his hands off my woman. I looked at her profile, in shock at my good fortune. Her beauty was only the icing on the cake. My woman was pure and good and kind and so smart it was hard to believe she had fallen for me.
But thank the good Lord, she had.
I tore my eyes away from my bride long enough to look skyward and say thank you. It was a big thank you. My eyes were full of tears by the time I clued into what Cain was saying.
“There are a lot of people in this room who expect me to say that Preacher is a ne’er do well. An unrepentant sinner. A man who believed in God but not the laws of man. Maybe not even in the Bible. And if you asked me a couple of years ago, I would have said that it was true.”
I exhaled. I was not going to get roasted. I was about to get something much, much worse.
I was going to be praised.
By Cain, of all people.
“But the truth is, Preacher has always known his own mind and followed his own heart. He sees the good in people whether it is hard to see” —we all looked at Shane, who was equally spiffed up and sitting with his very pretty wife— “or easy,” he said, nodding to my bride. “He is tried and true, loyal to a fault, and a deeply moral man, especially if you ignore the obvious lack of respect for authority.” Cain sounded slightly disgruntled at that last bit, which made sense. He was the authority, after all. “He is also the best brother I could ask for, always there for those he loves, and willing to ride a thousand miles on the spot to help a friend in need. He’ll give you the shirt off his back, even if it is soaked in tequila,” he joked. Everyone laughed. But not me. I was fighting to keep from bawling like a goddamn baby.
Fuck. My eyes are tearing up again. Damn you, Cain.
“So while he may be rough around the edges, so are diamonds when they first get dug out of the earth.”
Well, fuck. An actual tear rolled down my cheek. I left it there.
“Now, Cynthia, I have only just met you, but I can tell you are an amazing, and amazingly young, woman.” My tears dried up at his emphasis on young. Here we go, I thought. “So young. But beyond wise for your tender years.”
I rolled my eyes at that and Cain cracked a smile.
“The people in this community love and respect you. We may have just met, but you are part of another family now. A big, loud family that rides on two wheels. You are an Untouchable now, and probably an honorary member of a bunch of other clubs, as well.”
He nodded at someone in the crowd. I didn’t turn around, but I knew it was Devlin. I was ready to fucking cry again, it was so fucking sweet, goddammit.
“Now, with respect to tradition, I need to make sure you absolutely want to marry this old man when there are four willing groomsmen behind you.”
I cursed and glanced over my shoulder at a grinning Drake, Vice, Hunter, and Nick.
I knew what was coming. I knew they were going to kiss her. Or at least, they were going to try.
Like hell, they will touch my woman!
Cain asked if I would love and honor Cynthia. I said ‘I do’, then went back to worrying about how to stop the kissing. I perked up a bit as my bride said her ‘I do’ loud and clear.
“I now pronounce you man and wife,” he said, then winked. “You may kiss the bride,” he said, “if you are faster than those four!”
I cursed and grabbed for Cynthia, but it was too late. Hunter and Cain had my arms pulled behind my back. I saw Nick pull my startled bride into his arms and tilt her back, kissing her thoroughly.
I roared as Mac jumped out of the crowd and took over for Hunter while he laid a long, slow kiss on my woman. Thankfully, he didn’t try to slip her the tongue. I cursed a blue streak all the same. Drake gave me a saucy look and then pressed a quick, hard kiss on her lips.
When it was Vice’s turn, my stunned-looking bride held her hand up.
“What is going on?”
“It’s payback for past misdeeds. Plus, you are too pretty not to kiss,” Nick said in his easy drawl. He winked at me. “Consider it your last hurrah as a single woman.”
“But I am not single!” she said, stomping her cute little foot. But then she smiled. “Does he deserve it?”
They all nodded. Mac cleared his throat.
“He deserves it.”
Cynthia shrugged and puckered up, letting Vice give her a quick kiss. I had to say it was a lot more brotherly than Nick’s kiss had been. I shook them off and scooped up my bride, carrying her down the aisle and out of the church. I pulled her into a corner away from the crowds as they headed to the garden across the street for the reception.
“Did you enjoy that?” I growled.
“No.” But her eyes twinkled at me.
“Would you like it if I kissed another woman? Or four?”
“No,” she said fiercely. I relaxed a little bit. They hadn’t mauled her. She was mine. It was time to kiss the bride.
“You could have been more convincingly disgusted.”
She giggled a little bit.
“It won’t happen again. And if it does, I will be thoroughly disgusted.”
I sighed and pulled her against me.
“I love you, wife.”
“I love you too, husband,” she whispered back.
And then I kissed her. Our first kiss as man and wife. Our first but not our last.
I’d be kissing this woman for the rest of my days, I realized. Could Nick and the guys say that? Hell, no, they couldn’t.
I was grinning as I lifted my bride and carried her across the street to the garden.
Janet and the girls had come all the way to Portland to help Clarice. They’d brought dozens of string lights, with Jack, Hunter, and Whiskey using their long arms to hang them. There were real candles and battery LED candles and live music and a buffet.
There was also a keg and boxed wine, but other than that, it was fancy as all get out. And it was open to everyone.
I smiled as friends surrounded us. The married guys whose brides I’d kissed came over to sass me and slap my back. The brides regaled my wife with stories of other weddings, especially the time Mac pushed me into the lake.
Thankfully, my wife wasn’t too shocked by any of it.
She gave me a few incredulous looks, but mostly, she laughed. We both did. And when her eyelids started to droop, it was time to sneak away. I carried her into the upstairs bedroom at the parsonage. I’d finally agreed to use Paul’s bedroom. We’d redone the room with new bedding and a fresh mattress for my pregnant wife to sleep on.
My bride looked so beautiful as I lay her gently on the bed. She was also asleep. We were leaving in the morning for our honeymoon, which was nothing fancy, but she needed her rest.
I spent my wedding night watching my bride sleep. I didn’t mind, though. I had plans to make.
Plans for our future.
And plans of what new things we could try in bed.
I was hard the whole damn night. Hard and unsatisfied, but smiling.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Cynthia
I am a barefoot bride, I thought with a smile.
I stared out over the waves, which had been so wild the night before. Today, this evening at sunset, they were serene. The glossy arches of water reflected the orange and purple tones of the sky. The air was crisp and clean, not hot and muggy, as I’d expected.
And the shack behind me was . . . well, it was perfect. Apparently, it had been a disaster just a few shorts weeks ago. But somehow, with the help of Paul and a whole boat’s worth of fishermen, they had gotten it into shape. Where the walls had been simple boards with exposed pipes and wires, there was plaster and a full bathroom. Where the kitchen had been a hotplate and a faucet over a bucket, there was a cute little kitchenette. The floor was insulated, and so were the walls and roof.
Preacher Page 19