Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 143(@200wpm)___ 114(@250wpm)___ 95(@300wpm)
I laughed softly, loving how well he knew me after only a couple of weeks. “I do.”
“You better be ready to say those words soon,” he warned.
Thinking of all the details that went into a wedding, I narrowed my eyes at him. “How soon?”
“You’re gonna have to put that smart brain of yours to work because you’ve got a month to pull it all together.”
“A month?” I sputtered. “That’s just not possible.”
“Sure it is.” He jerked his chin toward all of our friends. “You have an army of people to help.”
“I suppose you’re right,” I begrudgingly admitted. “But be prepared to wear a tuxedo. With a tie and dress shoes.”
“Anything you want, gorgeous,” he promised. “Just so long as it happens in a month or less.”
EPILOGUE
ROM
Layla’s mom fussed over her wedding dress…yet again. Tsking about wrinkles that were invisible to anyone but her.
“Mom, it's fine,” Layla grumbled. Her mom had driven her crazy before the wedding, but Phantom had stepped in and taken her to her seat, giving Layla some time to relax before she walked down the aisle. She’d looked so fucking gorgeous, and I’d never felt more content, binding my woman to me forever and knowing our baby was growing in her belly.
However, her mother’s overbearing attitude made me increasingly angry through the night. I didn’t want to upset Layla, though, so I’d kept my mouth shut. But I’d finally reached my limit.
“I’ll take it from here, Tracey,” I said as I smoothly stepped between her and my bride.
“Oh, but she needs—”
“I will take care of anything Layla needs.” My voice was firm, but I tempered my expression so I didn’t seem overly harsh. “I’m her husband.”
“But-but I’m her mother!” she sputtered, flapping her hands like a bird.
“Thank you for always being there for her and raising such an amazing woman. But she’s mine now. I let you have an extra month to plan the wedding, agreed to have it in this church in Old Bridge, and let you talk me into the groomsmen not wearing their cuts. But from now on, unless Layla comes to you with a request, I will be the one to take care of her. Now, I’m going to go dance with my bride and enjoy some damn peace and quiet.”
Tracey stared at me with her mouth wide open, her husband standing at her side with his lips pressed together and his shoulders shaking while Layla giggled.
I tucked my woman into my side and guided her out to the dance floor.
“That was kind of hot,” she said with a snicker.
I grinned. “Yeah?”
She nodded. “I love it when you get all growly and protective.”
“Is it time to leave yet?” I grumbled.
Layla laughed and snuggled deeper into me. “A little longer.”
After a couple of songs, she needed to use the bathroom, so I escorted her to the door and waited outside. Mac and Bridget walked up, and she rolled her eyes at us before going into the restroom.
“Mac.”
We both looked up as a furious Phantom stormed over to where we lounged against the wall.
“I need help.”
Mac frowned and pushed off the wall. “Whatever you need, Phantom. What’s goin’ on?”
“I saw…I met…fuck!” Phantom cursed as he ran his hands over his head. “My woman. I found her. But…there were bruises. Shit. I have to get to her.”
“We’ll handle it,” Mac assured him. “You talk to Grey or Hack already?”
Phantom nodded. “Grey’ll start searching as soon as they get back to the hotel tonight. I’m headed back now so I’m ready when he finds out anything.”
Mac nodded, but he didn’t say anything since Bridget and Layla stepped out of the bathroom. He kissed his woman’s forehead and smacked her ass. “I’ll meet you by the cake, baby.”
Bridget looked around as us, then patted Phantom on the shoulder as she passed. “Your turn, huh?”
Layla looked at me with a question in her eyes, but I just shook my head and took her hand. I’d explain later. “Let me know if I’m needed,” I said to both men before walking away with my bride.
“Have I told you how fucking gorgeous you are, wife?” I asked, my voice gruff from pushing back my desire for her.
“Not in the past five minutes.” There was a note of mock censure in her tone, and I couldn’t help laughing.
“So fucking cute,” I teased as I cupped her face between my palms. “I love you more than anything, Layla Cross.”
Her eyes turned dreamy, and she smiled up at me. “You’re my whole world, Roman Cross. I love you.”
“Can we finally ditch this place so I can fuck my beautiful bride?” I growled.
“Yes, please.” Layla’s voice was breathless, and it went straight to my already hard shaft.
I lifted her into my arms, holding her a little lower so she hid the tent in my tux pants as I stalked to the exit.