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I stop breathing. Holding the paper to my lips, I turn and my already full eyes find Cooper. He’s down on one knee, a black velvet box perched in the center of his hand.

I have no idea how my knees don’t buckle when I take the two steps to walk to him. My beautiful, confident, loving man smiles up at me before he speaks, and in the moment, he shows me how vulnerable he is. A side I rarely see from a man who goes after everything in life like he’s on a seek-and-destroy mission.

The hand not offering the ring box reaches out to me, and I place my trembling hand in his. “Kate Monroe. Even though I lose every hand to you, at the end of the day, I’m the big winner because you go home with me every night. I don’t need a chip or a four-leaf clover for all my wishes to come true. I only need you. Marry me, beautiful.”

Kate—

Four months later—

on the eleventh day of the eleventh month

The big day has finally arrived. Parting the elegant drapery just enough to peer out at the crowd on the beach waiting below, I watch as the last empty seats fill with guests. It’s certainly an eclectic enough looking crowd. Cooper’s side is filled with an interesting mix of Hollywood royalty—studio heads, directors, actors—sitting alongside lighting grips, secretaries, and security guards. Noticeably absent is one man I’d hoped to convince Cooper to invite, but he wouldn’t budge in the least.

Miles isn’t here. It saddens me the two couldn’t reconcile. They’re basically the only family left for each other. I know Miles is the one who did all the damage, but somehow I still feel guilty that it was my actions that gave him the ammunition for the gun he held to Cooper’s head.

A few more people trickle in that I don’t recognize, then a familiar face leisurely swaggers in. A few women do a double take, although he doesn’t seem to even notice. He looks great, tanned and relaxed, with his trademark long hair pulled back into a ponytail. I smile, thinking how only a year ago seeing Flynn Beckham at my wedding was unthinkable.

But Cooper slowly warmed to him. Flynn definitely earned points by coming to see him, helping us reconcile after the show. But it was our staged public break-up that solidified that the bachelor wasn’t such a Dickhead after all. As part of the deal we made so I could win the prize, Flynn and I had agreed we would say my returning to school and his leaving for tour was hard on our relationship and we were parting ways friends. But the media loved him and he knew they’d be horrible to me, blaming me for our demise with made-up stories. It also meant Cooper and I had to continue to keep our relationship quiet.

I called Flynn the day after Cooper and I reunited to thank him. The next day, Flynn took Jessica out to a very public lunch and then kissed her for a full five minutes while cameras snapped away in a frenzy. After that, I was free and Flynn was deemed a playboy who broke the girl-next-door’s heart.

“Your brother was out there at seven this morning, practicing,” Mom says, coming up behind me and looking out the window over my shoulder. Cooper had a wide wooden platform constructed that leads from the inside of the restaurant to the altar set up on the beach, so that Kyle would be able to walk me down the aisle in his wheelchair. All he needs to do is push a button to start and stop motion, but that’s not always a feat he’s capable of.

“He puts too much pressure on himself. I wish he would let someone wheel him down.”

“He wants to escort you alone. He’s stubborn. But he can do it.”

Between the experimental drugs and promising therapy, my brother has made progress. But the progress isn’t always consistent and he sometimes grows frustrated. Cooper and I had a custom wheelchair made for Kyle’s birthday last month. I might not let my generous fiancé buy me cars, but chipping in for a ten-thousand-dollar wheelchair is more than okay.

The tick of the clock growing louder, Mom helps me attach my veil. There’s a knock on the door as I take one last look in the mirror. “Who is it?” my mother asks, but the door creaks open before the response comes.

“I need a minute with Kate, Lena.”

“No! Cooper. It’s bad luck.” She tries to shoo him out and shut the door, but she doesn’t really have any idea who she’s dealing with.

“It’s okay, Mom. It’s fine. He can come in.”

Her eyes go wide as saucers. “Really? But it’s bad luck.” She can’t believe what she’s hearing. Oddly, me, the person who doesn’t step on a crack for fear of breaking my mother’s back, is actually okay with seeing the groom ten minutes before the wedding. It’s kind of shocking even to me.

Cooper opens the door and my mother leaves the two of us alone. He eyes me in the mirror I’m still facing. “You look … gorgeous.” I may not be the most beautiful woman in the world, but to him, I am at this very moment. He leaves no room for anyone else.

“Thank you. But you could have told me that in ten minutes.” I turn, placing my palms on the lapels of his swoon-worthy tuxedo. “It must be important if you’re willing to risk bad luck, knowing how I am.”

“You know that none of that’s true. You’d beat me at cards whether you had a lucky chip or not and we’ll grow old together fifty years from now.” He wraps his arm around my waist.

His nose nuzzles in my hair. “You smell good too.”

“Cooper?”

“Hmmm.”

“Did you come here for a reason? Because I am not having sex with you ten minutes before we are getting married.”


Tags: Vi Keeland Life on Stage Romance