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“That sounds like a challenge,” he says and I see that look growing in his eye. The one that both of us know I can’t resist.

“Cooper …” I warn. “I’m kicking you out.”

He takes a step back, his hands scrubbing the hormone-induced haze from his face. “No. I came to give you something.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He grins. “Get your dirty mind out of the gutter, soon-to-be Mrs. Montgomery. I’ll give you that after the ceremony. In the coat closet, on the way to the reception.” He winks. I wouldn’t put it past him for a second.

“Close your eyes.”

“Seriously, Cooper, we …”

“Just trust me. Close your eyes.”

I do as he asks. I feel him move around the room and then he’s back in front of me. “Open your eyes.”

He’s kneeling down in front of me.

“Lift.” One hand on my ankle, he guides me to lift my foot, then slips off my shoe. His finger goes to the toe and he removes the four-leaf clover I’d stashed there, but never told him about.

“But … I already tempted fate by letting you see me before the ceremony.” Panic starts to rise.

Cooper lifts my bouquet placed at the floor next to him. I hadn’t even noticed he put it there. He hands me the simple bundle of roses with a few silk ribbons cascading from the bottom. “Look underneath.”

Confused, I turn the flowers upside down. Something sparkly affixed to the top of the ribbon captures my attention. It couldn’t be. How could he ever find them?

“Are these …”

He nods. “They’re mine now. But I thought you might need something borrowed.”

My eyes sting with tears I desperately try to hold back. “I can’t believe you got these back for me.” Securely fastened to the ribbon under my bridal bouquet are my father’s lucky four-leaf clover cufflinks, the ones he had made when I was born. He wore them to all four World Poker championships—firmly believing they brought him luck each time he won. Sometime between his last win and next loss at the national championships, he lost them in a “sure thing” bet he made. A year later he died of a heart attack.

“I don’t even know what to say. I love them. You found my father’s lucky charm.”

“I’m glad you love them. But you’re wrong. I’m marrying his lucky charm in a few minutes.” He kisses my lips softly.

“You’re going to make me cry.”

“No. I’m going to spend the rest of my life making you smile and giving you orgasms.” He pulls me flush against his body. I have no doubt he’ll do both. This man is a royal straight flush. A field of four leaf clovers. He’s red skies at night. I need no other lucky charm, as long as I have him.

“Thank you, Cooper. I love them.”

“And I love you.”

Ten minutes later, at exactly eleven-eleven, on the eleventh day of November, I married the love of my life. As my husband said when he kissed me for the first time as his wife, “There’s nobody luckier than me.”

And just like that, the game was finally over.


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Tags: Vi Keeland Life on Stage Romance