Gray smirked, leading us toward Killian. “My wife.”

“Excuse me?”

“My wife.”

Understanding, Killian scowled. “She’s still my wee sister.”

“Not when my tongue’s in her mouth,” Gray replied with no small amount of smugness.

I burst out laughing at Killian’s affronted expression and grabbed his arm to lead the three of us back toward our guests and photographer. “You walked into that one, Kill.”

He harrumphed but his expression softened as he studied me. “You look happy.”

“Bliss,” I replied, beaming.

My brother’s gaze drifted from my face to across the room as we walked back through the double doors to the ceremony/dining room. His dark eyes stopped on Skylar, who turned upon our entrance. She looked stunning in blue. And Killian’s gaze said he thought so, too. As their eyes held, their expressions said a lot more than that.

“Aye,” he murmured and I knew it was in response to what I’d said.

And that made my joy even more joyful, knowing he felt that way about Skylar.

Killian and I may have had it easy financially, but everything else in life that actually mattered was something we’d fought for. Love had not been easy for either of us and we’d both lived with a loneliness that unfortunately our love for one another could never really take away.

Yet here we were with our soul mates and luckier than most people ever got to be.

All because we decided to hold on.

And hold on tight.

Killian let go of me to walk across the room to Skylar, drawing her into his arms as she chatted animatedly with Catie and Kyle. She wrapped hers around his and leaned back into his chest.

I turned into my husband, catching sight of the photographer heading toward us out of the corner of my eyes and grinned up at him as I recalled words he’d said to me when we first discussed the amazing, wondrous connection between us. “Someone needs to discover the formula and bottle this shit so everyone can get a piece of the good life.”

Gray’s eyes brightened and I knew he remembered when he gave my waist an answering squeeze. “You’re lucky you’re sweet and beautiful, angel, or this next part would be torture.”

Suffice it to say that for such a handsome specimen of man, Gray did not like getting his photograph taken. We turned as the photographer caught up to us and I murmured so only my husband could hear, “It’ll be over before you know it. Just hold on.”

He turned to me. I knew in that moment I was the only person in the room as he promised, “Always, angel. Always.”

THE END