Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Together, we step outside into the glittering evening.
There’s snow everywhere.
People bundled up in warm coats over their fine outfits, sitting in the chairs flanking the flower-strewn aisle.
Silver and glitter and pale flowers everywhere.
Still Lake, partly frozen over behind the altar, snow shimmering along the icy sheets. It’s a winter wonderland just for me, so I can feel like the delicate winter princess gliding down the aisle.
And waiting for me at the end, my prince.
Micah may have spoiled me with his wedding outfit, but he looks so stunning it was worth it.
Cream-colored breeches hug his narrow hips and muscular thighs. Dashing black thigh-high leather riding boots. A matching cream-colored waistcoat over a billowing, stark white linen shirt, the waistcoat caging the linen against his broad shoulders and trim waist. The only color is the lilac rose corsage pinned to him and the subtle blue tint to his eyes.
Plus, the scarlet joy in his cheeks.
With his white hair slicked back, he looks rakish and unreal, this ice prince who’s warmed his heart enough to let me in.
Only, there’s nothing icy about the silver-blue eyes that land on me as I step into the moonlight.
There’s nothing but warmth as our gazes find each other and never let go.
I’m barely aware of walking down the aisle.
I feel like I’m floating on the love in his eyes, wrapped up in the sudden realization that this is happening.
The man I love waits for me right in front of a patiently smiling priest. In a few more minutes, we’ll be hitched.
I want to laugh.
I want to cry.
I’m definitely doing both by the time Grandpa leads me to the altar and kisses my cheek before letting me go.
As he passes by to take up his place with the groomsmen, all of Redhaven PD handsome in their tuxedos, he grabs Micah’s hand with an approving squeeze that means so much to me.
There’s nothing better than knowing the two most important men in my life respect each other so deeply.
Especially when Micah squeezes his hand back with a smile and a murmur.
“Gerald,” he says warmly.
For a second, there’s a loud commotion in the trees overhead. A huge flock of crows takes off with deafening caws, launching into the sky like spinning shadows.
Micah stares at them until the noise disappears, and I wonder why there’s such a bright starry smile in his eyes.
Then he looks at me again and it’s just us, standing across from each other.
I can see his heart pounding in his throat, his pulse wild against pale skin, matching my own. Micah takes a quick breath and lets it out in a laugh.
“Remind me again how you make yourself breathe when you’re this excited?”
The last of my jitters melt away.
My smile lights me up from the inside out.
“I count,” I whisper. “I count and pace my breathing.”
Micah reaches for my free hand, watching me with those luminous eyes that hold me spellbound.
“Maybe we should count backward then,” he says. “To the moment when we’ll be husband and wife.”
“In your head,” I tease. “I don’t think the priest would like it very much.”
Micah’s eyes glitter. “I’ll count if you will.”
“Every second is a second too long,” I promise.
“Shall we?” The priest clears his throat.
I nod shyly, and Micah nods more boldly.
In my head, I’m already counting down backward.
With every word from the priest, another second slips by.
Another second closer.
Another instant narrowing the end of my life as Talia Grey, and the beginning of my life as Talia Ainsley.
Another tick closer to eternity with Micah.
The entire time, we never look away from each other.
Micah’s lips move silently and I realize he’s really doing it—counting backward. I fight the urge to grin with everyone watching, squeezing his fingers playfully and getting a wink in return.
I took a wild guess on how long it would take the priest to recite the wedding vows, and I’m not far off.
I’m down to ten by the time he gets to In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or for worse, ’til death do you part.
Nine.
“Do you, Micah Ainsley, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Eight.
“I do,” Micah answers firmly.
Seven.
I’m fizzing to bits, nearly bouncing on my toes.
“And do you, Talia Grey, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Six.
“I do,” I say, more emphatically than I’ve ever said anything in my life.
Five.
And then Rolf is there, trotting down the aisle, looking very pleased with himself that he’s doing his trick right. Micah spent a month teaching him as he jogs up to us with his tags jingling against the ring box hooked to his collar.
Four.
“Good boy.” Micah tugs the box free, scratching behind Rolf’s ears.
Three.
The box open.
The rings are waiting.
Two.
Sliding onto each other’s fingers, cool gold bands that quickly warm with shared love, affection, and trust.
One.
The priest looks into our smiling faces and says the magic words. “Then by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”