by Bex Dane
She bent to kiss my cheek. "What does it mean?" I asked her.
"Renmen se vre." The crowd sang the words in haunting unity.
"Love is true," she answered softly in my ear.
"Renmen pout tout tan."
"Love forever."
"It's beautiful."
"So are you, my love." She hugged me and returned to Bastien's side.
Chantal approached Rogan and me on the raised dais at the center of the reception hall. She sang, "Renmen se vre," as she added a royal blue cord over the purple one.
"Renmen pout tout tan." She squeezed Rogan's hand where it rested over mine. "Welcome, sister."
One by one, the guests approached and added a new cord to the collection of bands tying me to Rogan. The golden one Savannah slipped over our shoulders strapped our torsos together. Each new cable forced us closer until my back pressed against his chest and he supported my weight.
"Bo, bo, bo, bo!"
I arched my neck to peer over my shoulder at Rogan. "What do they want?"
"They want us to kiss."
"Oh."
I twisted in my bindings, and Rogan bent his neck until our lips touched. The guests cheered, and I laughed into the kiss. The ropes hid most of our bodies and the long train of my dress covered my bottom half. I'd chosen a mermaid gown in eggshell white that was covered in thousands of small crystals. Rogan ran a hand furtively up my leg under my dress. He stared at me with wide eyes while his fingers explored the garter belt clips at the tops of my stockings. "What the everlovin' hell?"
"Cyan's idea."
"Holy shit." With a whoosh, he flipped me around on his lap. His tongue probed deep in my mouth, and his fingers caressed the curve of my ass. Thank goodness for all these sashes giving us some privacy.
The cheers got louder and perhaps someone whistled, but I didn't hear it. I was lost in my husband, his massive hands placing my body where he wanted it, his luscious lips kissing me.
When his fingertips snuck between my butt cheeks, I pulled away. "Um, Rogan, these panties are kinda thin and…"
He growled and ran his hand lower. I gasped as he dipped his finger in my wetness. "Lick it, Sunshine." He tapped his finger on my lower lip. I angled my head so no one could see and sucked it in, tasting myself on him. His eyes heated, and his arm around my back tugged me closer, arching my chest against him. "Mmm." He hummed in my ear.
"We should uh… People are watching."
His groan thundered deep in his chest. He freed us from our tangled cords and lowered me back to my spot next to him.
Rogan watched me straighten my tiara and, after I'd wiped my lipstick from my bottom lip, his gaze darted back up to the crown. "Still crooked."
I glared at the zipper of his tuxedo pants. "Still hard."
He chuckled.
"Can we leave now?" I asked him.
"No. Guinevere Foor wouldn't let us leave the wedding early. I have a surprise anyway."
"Another one? The tiara was more than enough."
Rogan had the gems he'd given me worked into a shining platinum tiara. Rectangular baguettes of black tourmaline lined the headband at the bottom. Sharp spinels rose from the base, topped with flowers made of white diamonds. The yellow sapphire swung from the peak of the crown like a sundrop over a field of flowers. I'd given him a thick sterling silver wedding band engraved with one word. Forever.
As I resecured the pin holding my tiara in my hair, Falcon approached us carrying two guitars. He handed one to Rogan and stood behind us holding the other one. Blaze followed Falcon with a square amplifier and some cables. He connected the speakers and set up microphones for Rogan and Falcon.
"Can we get some chairs?" Rogan asked.
Diesel brought us three chairs. Rogan sat opposite me on the dais. Falcon took a seat behind Rogan's left shoulder.
As the sun was setting behind him over the Amalian coast, Rogan strummed an intro on an acoustic guitar, and Falcon chimed in with bass guitar playing backup behind him. Rogan sang that I'm his whole world and how our love would grow from this day forward. His voice was smooth as velvet and filled with heartfelt emotion. His version of the song was a million times better than the original.
Through my blurred vision, I saw the female wedding guests dabbing at their eyes. Rogan’s Army buddies didn’t cry, but their strong jaws were meaningful with pride. Rogan rose from his chair, handed the guitar to Falcon, and offered me his hand. "Dance with me."
We joined hands and stepped off the platform, making our way to the middle of the dance floor. He kissed me, and we danced for the first time as a married couple to a sweet Carrie Underwood song about a mother trusting her daughter's choice in a husband.
I gazed up into Rogan's loving eyes. "You are good." He shook his head. "You are. Salt of the earth."
"Thank you. I'm glad you see me that way. Makes me wanna be that for you."
"My momma would've loved you," I said to him. "She'd think you're gorgeous, and she'd be happy for me that I got out and found a solid man who would let me fly."
"And you will soar. I guarantee it."
"With you by my side, I will."
I tucked my forehead into his chest and inhaled the scent of my rugged man's crisp white dress shirt.
"My father would adore you like I do," he said to the top of my head.
I nodded and blinked away tears. I didn't look up when I asked him, "Would Eden be happy for you?"
He bent down and dipped his chin to whisper in my ear. "She would."
He wrapped his palm behind my neck and kissed me. I closed my eyes and savored the goodness of knowing our lost loved ones were smiling down on us tonight. His tongue probed deeper and his hand moved lower on my back.
Please, Rogan. Let's leave now.
He pulled back and touched his finger to my lips. "In due time, love." And he used the same finger from earlier, so it didn't calm me down at all.
Other couples joined us on the dance floor, and I took a deep breath to center myself.
Dallas in a tuxedo and Cyan in her sequined bridesmaid's dress stole the show. I averted my gaze when he kissed her because it seemed like a private moment between them.
Rogan's mother swayed gracefully in her gown and tiara as she danced with Prime Minister Foor, and the Amalian guests watched with appreciation.
Savannah danced with her husband, and Milo and the other kids stared at them with the same wonder on their faces I'd worn on mine at Diesel's wedding.
Brock swayed to the music with Jasmine in his arms, his hand drifting lower over the open back of her bridesmaid's dress. Oh no. Brock would not be good for her. I'd warn her after the dance.
The slinky silk dress Chantal chose to wear had caught the attention of both Blaze and Diesel, and the three of them chatted at the bar. Blaze dropped a cherry down Chantal's dress and dove his face in to retrieve it.
She threw her head back on Diesel's shoulder behind her and laughed as Blaze took his time coming out of her cleavage with the cherry. He chewed on the cherry and tied the stem with his tongue before handing it to her.
Lord have mercy, Chantal was going to gorge on commandos tonight. And from the glare Bastien was sending over to them, he did not approve. I imagine if he didn't want Rogan and I to share a room before we were married, he wouldn't want his daughter flirting with two guys at his stepson's wedding.
Rogan had invited two other men from his Delta Force team. Ruger and Oz mingled with the Amalian guests. I didn't remember them from the night they rescued me. After I talked to Jasmine about Brock, I'd ask Rogan to introduce me to them again.
My gaze flitted over to Falcon sitting at an empty table. "Falcon doesn't have anyone?" I asked Rogan.
"What do you mean?"
"He seems like he's always alone."
"His choice."
"And were you always alone before me?"
"Probably. Or with Falcon."
"He's too nice to be alone."
"I tried to convince him about love once a long
time ago. The last four years, I've been sitting on his side of the fence. Wasn't till you came along, I even considered jumping."
"So he just needs the right woman?"
"It'd have to be one hell of a woman to break down Falcon's fortress. It's covered in explosives and barbed wire. And hundreds of ornery guard dogs."
I laughed. "Well, Takoda is supposedly a mean guard dog and look how she melted for me."
"Yep, Takoda loved you first. I was right behind her."
He bent down and kissed my ear as his arm around my waist pulled me up against his chest.
As the song changed, Bastien and Gwen walked over to us. "Shall we trade?" Bastien held Gwen's hand in Rogan's direction.
"Only for a minute, then I want my bride back," Rogan replied.
Bastien took my hand and guided me in circles next to Rogan and his mother. "You make a resplendent bride, Tessa."
"Thank you." I felt like a princess from head to toe. My dress and jewel-encrusted heels flashed when the light hit them. The amethyst sash made of Amalian silk tied around my waist made a decadent bow that flowed along with the train of my dress. The fact Gwen had worn it at her wedding made it extra special as my something borrowed.
Bastien twirled me and Rogan's appreciative gaze drank me in. Gwen spoke to him, and he turned his attention back to her as they danced. Hopefully, she was telling him she was happy for him and she approved of me. He bent down to hug her at the end of the song. As soon as he straightened, he zipped straight to me. His hand found its place on my lower back, and he leaned in to kiss my ear.
"We're going to our room now."
"You said Gwen wouldn't let us leave early."
One corner of his mouth quirked up. "I convinced her."
"Is that what you were talking about with her? Not sharing a poignant mother-son moment?"
"We did that too. But at the end, she told me we should go make whoopee."
***
Rogan and I ran hand in hand down the corridor of the five-star resort hotel. He swiped his key card and scooped me up behind my knees. I laughed as he carried me through the door and launched me onto the bed.
"Dress off." He placed his hands on his hips to watch.
"You carry me."
"What?" He climbed up the bed and poled his arms to support his weight over me.
"So many times. From the terrorists to the helicopter, from my dad's clutches to an escape hatch, over the threshold of this room. From captivity to freedom each time." I trailed my fingers from his temple to his shoulder.
His eyes softened. "I'd carry you across the Sahara if that's where you wanted to go." He kissed my nose. "But make no mistake, you rescued me. You're stronger than me. You carry the weight of my ruck and your own."
"Rogan…"
"Till death do us part."
"If there is a heaven, I'd like to believe we'd find each other there too."
"Yeah. Now let's knock boots."
I rolled to my stomach. "Help me."
He paused. "There's a million buttons on this damn thing."
"Those are faux buttons. There's a zipper hidden beneath them."
"Thank fuck."
Rogan removed my dress and his tuxedo. He stared at the garter and stockings for a long time. "I'm not even going to attempt taking those off."
I peeked up at him over my shoulder. "You have to remove them to get my panties off."
He set his brow and grinned. He yanked the sides of my bridal underwear and tore it off. We laughed and made love for the first time as husband and wife. I didn't feel any other presence between us. He'd let Eden's ghost go. His sole focus was on every inch of me and pleasuring me, his only wife.
Epilogue
Six weeks later
Rogan's palms grabbed my ass and squeezed. "Hey! I'm trying to concentrate here."
I lined a chunk of Rogan's hair between my fingers and snipped off the ends. "You're finally letting me cut your hair. I want to do a good job."
"Your tits are in my face."
I bent to look into his eyes as he sat in a chair in the backyard. "I know. I feel your eyes and your breath on them."
He chuckled and his laugh echoed inside my heart.
"I think I'm gonna love cutting your hair. It's incredibly sexy."
"Oh really? Let's do this inside." He flicked open the top button of my jeans.
"No. Let me concentrate for one minute."
"No." He went for the second button of my jeans.
I clicked on the electric razor and buzzed it next to his ear. "Hands off or you'll lose an ear, Boggs."
He dropped his hands, and I grinned while I carefully shaved the hair around the nape of his neck. "I have a theory about Dallas and Brock."
"I thought you were trying to concentrate."
"I am. I can talk, just don't touch me."
"Lots of rules for this haircut."
"Please cooperate."
"Sure. So what's your theory?"
"They're secret princes."
He chuckled. "Uh-huh."
"They are. And they live a normal life in Boston, but have bodyguards because their country has sent them here for their safety during a huge civil uprising."
"All that, huh?"
"Am I right?"
"Uh. No."
"Tell me."
"Dallas and Brock have a history similar to mine, but grander on every scale. Higher up in the military, black ops they can't talk about. Dallas runs a network for vets to find jobs when they get discharged. Brock is his right-hand man."
"But why did Lachlan say they kill for blood and money?"
"I wish he hadn't said that in front of you."
"Do the Monroe brothers kill for blood and money?"
He took a deep breath and spoke slowly, choosing each word carefully. "The kinds of jobs soldiers are best at aren't always on the top side of the law. I can't tell you any more, and it's best you don't ask." Rogan held up one finger and lifted his phone to his ear. "Boggs."
Oh, he never answered the phone that way.
The longer he listened, the lower his shoulders fell. His gaze flitted to Takoda's spot where she rested in the sun. "Thank you. I'll get back to you."
He ended the call and looked up at me with crestfallen eyes. "Brightman wants to retire Takoda."
"She does?"
"She's earned thirteen thousand combat hours."
"Wow. Really? Would we get to keep her, or would she go to some doggie retirement home?"
"We'd keep her."
"That's good." I set the razor on the table to focus on him.
"I've been awarded a silver medal of honor," he said in a flat tone.
"Wow. You're not happy with that?"
"Not interested in accolades for doing my job." He placed his hands on my hips.
"But still. They want to recognize your service."
"In my line of work, I don't wanna be recognized."
"For your safety?"
"For yours." He pulled me closer so his lips were on my belly over the open button of my jeans.
I held his head and rubbed the newly exposed skin on his nape. "Oh."
"And Savannah's kids. Cyan, Dallas. Anyone associated with me is at risk."
"Hmm."
"She wants me to come to the White House for some ceremony." He dipped his tongue in my belly button.
I ignored the flood of desire to jump his bones. "That would be exciting."
His lips brushed my stomach as he shook his head. "Not interested."
I bent my knees to crouch down in front of him and placed my hands on his neck. "What's wrong, babe? This all sounds like good stuff."
"She's disbanding Alpha Squadron. Offered me a position as commander of a new Beta Squadron. Same missions as before, but a different team."
"Would you want that?"
He shook his head slowly. "Don't feel confident putting my life on the line without Takoda or my unit taking my six. There might've been days I'd take that risk, but
now—no."
"What're your other options?"
"Honorable discharge. Everything forgotten—going MIA, disobeying orders, escaping confinement—all pardoned like it never happened. Make the fake story true."
"Wow."
"She's offering me an out because of you." He brushed my hair behind my ear.
"This is about me?"
"In a lot of ways, I think it is. She's still trying to make it up to me. Giving me freedom to be with you."
"Whatever you choose, I'll support you."
"A man needs purpose in his work."
"Is there some meaningful work you can find as a retired vet?"
"I could work for Monroe, but like I said, the work he does crosses the lines of civilian laws." He chewed his lip and stared into my eyes. "I've been thinking of starting a private security firm here. Have the guys from Alpha Squadron work for me."
"So, go out on your own?"
"Yeah. It'd be harder in the beginning, but more autonomy in the long run. I could do things my way. Really help people. Keep it legal."
"Would that give you purpose?"
"Yes."
"Then that's what you should do."
"I need to get in touch with Falcon. He probably got the same phone call I did."
"Go call him." I blew the shavings from his neck and kissed him. When I pulled away, I combed his hair into place with my fingertips. He stared at my chest for several deep breaths.
"You okay?" I trailed my fingers down his shirt and pressed his dog tags to his heart through the fabric.
He looked down at my hand, reached under his collar, and pulled the chain over his head.
"C'mon." He grabbed my wrist and led me inside to our bedroom. He stopped at my jewelry box and opened the door.
Slowly, he hung the chain on the hook and closed the door.
"How does that feel?" I asked him.
"In a way, it's giving up. Something I never thought I'd do."
"Life takes us on journeys we can't always predict."
"But closing this door also opens a new one. I'm free to love you. To build a new life. To work for a new purpose."
I kissed him, and he unbuttoned my pants with one hand while curling his fingers into my hair with the other. Then he made love to me, with renewed purpose. And as usual, he succeeded because I came four times and fell infinitely deeper in love with my man.