Hard to believe that we’ve actually done it. Gotten married. A shotgun wedding – right down to the groom.
This isn’t how I imagined my happy-ever-after starting, but I know it’s the best I could have ever hoped for. A man who loves me, without question, without concern, without rules or regulations – just as I am, from the moment he met me. When he proposed up in Denver, I didn’t expect us to tie the knot so soon, but three months later, here we are.
I know that it’s going to take my father a while to come around to this, but he’s already starting to see the good side of the Men of Valor – they've been helping get him to his rehab appointments now he’s back in town, most of them as determined as I am to show that Shotgun is the best son-in-law he could have asked for. And, as for Todd, well – he's been out of the picture ever since he figured out for good that he was never going to get into my pants.
The wedding was a small affair at the courthouse. My dress was white, and I was carrying a bouquet of tulips. It was just us and a few witnesses – Knight as Shotgun’s best man – just enough to make it legal. Just enough that I could look into his eyes and call Shotgun my husband and mean it.
We’re not going to have a whole lot of married life alone together before our little boy comes along, but I am just fine with that. Shotgun has been doing up the spare room as a nursery, and it’s already looking amazing. I can hardly wait to bring our son home for the first time – but for now, with just the hint of a baby bump under my wedding dress, I’m going to enjoy him.
We drive to Midnight Oil, where our reception is being held. The Men of Valor insisted on throwing us a big old party. My father is even coming out, and some co-workers from the daycare. I don’t need anything fancy, but I must say, it feels pretty amazing to be a part of this big family of bikers, who swore to protect one another come hell or high water.
Shotgun offers me a hand as I hop off the bike. I’m wearing sneakers under my dress, so that I don’t have to worry about falling over myself in heels. He pulls me against him, plants a kiss on my lips, the kind that makes me knees weak.
"You remember our first date here?" he murmurs to me. I nod and smile.
"How could I forget?"
"And you remember what happened after our first date?” he teases playfully.
I giggle. "Hmm, I might need a little reminder of that," I tease as he scoops me up into his arms.
“Oh, Tulip, I promise to remind you when we get home tonight.”
Home. In Shotgun’s arms, I’m already there.