“Yeah, she did,” I say with a laugh.
Dima walks over carrying a crate full of vodka and whiskey bottles. “Let’s go get you married,” he says with a grin.
I follow him out, waving a goodbye to Natalya who’s handing a very hungover looking Viktor a bottle of water. I’m not at all sorry to be turning my back on my bachelor life. I’ll happily trade it all in for a life with Moira and our baby. Just knowing I have a family now makes me want to turn into one of those emotional saps that I always swore I’d never become. It wasn’t because I didn’t want what they had, though. It was because I’d never met anyone I was even remotely tempted to want to spend the rest of my life with. Moira just came out of nowhere and completely knocked me on my ass, and I couldn’t be happier that she did.
When we’re on our way, Dima looks over at me and asks, “Is it true that Moira sent a wedding invitation to Paddy?”
I laugh and shake my head yes. “Not only that, but she also told him the club burned down and that she’s pregnant with my baby. The poor old fucker probably had a heart attack when he read it.”
“God, I wish I could’ve seen his face when he got it. You’re tainting the Irish bloodline, Kolya,” he says with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah,” I groan. “God forbid we add some Russian genes to the mix. In our defense, we make really cute babies.”
“Damn straight we do. My son is adorable.”
I laugh, grateful that Dima’s able to take my mind of how anxious I am to hear Moira sayI do. It seems to take forever, but less than an hour later, I’m standing behind all the seated guests in the waterfront building we rented with Dima standing as my best man next to where I’ll soon be. I watch him look over and wink at Gina who’s standing across from him as Moira’s matron of honor. Aleksei is behind Dima as my groomsman and Jamie is standing beside Gina as a bridesmaid. Adam and Stacy sit in the front, holding Sergei who’s wearing his very first suit. I had no idea they made them so little. When I’d first seen him, I’d laughed while he screamed with joy and tried to lunge at me. It may be a small wedding, but everyone is here because they want to be and because they’re truly happy for us. That’s all that matters to us.
The decorators we hired have strewn fairy lights all over the place and the photographer is taking shots of everything. I gave her a very nice tip in advance and asked her take as many photos of Moira as she possibly could. She’d smiled, taken the money, and then reminded me that she also does babies. If she does well today, then she’ll have a repeating, prosperous relationship with the Sokolovs.
I’m standing in the back, waiting for my future wife because she doesn’t have anyone to walk her down the aisle, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to make her do it alone. Besides, no one is giving her away like she’s a damn animal. We’re joining our lives together, and we’re going into this as equals.
When I catch movement from the corner of my eye, I turn my head and my breath catches in my throat. Moira walks toward me in a gorgeous, white, strapless gown. She’s wearing the diamond and emerald necklace I got her with the matching earrings, but none of it can even come close to comparing with her beauty. She’s always been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but she’s glowing in this moment, and it’s stunning to behold.
I’m still speechless by the time she reaches me. I run my eyes over the way Jamie has woven little jewels into her long, chestnut hair and the way she’s made the green in her eyes stand out even more.
“You take my breath away,” I finally manage to say.
She smiles, showing me the dimple I’ll never get tired of seeing and holds her arm out for me. I wrap mine through hers and walk her down the aisle. The ceremony is a quick one since neither one of us is religious, and I’d be hard pressed to say anything about it except how Moira had looked during every second of it.
When I slide the delicate band on her finger and she says, “I do,” I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes, and I have to force myself under control before I start crying in front of the men who work under me. As soon as the officiant pronounces us man and wife, I cup her sweet face and press my lips to hers. It’s a sweet kiss, a tender kiss, and when I pull back, I press my forehead to hers and whisper, “My wife.”
“My husband,” she whispers back, making me the happiest man in the world.
The cheers around us make us both laugh as everyone moves into the other room for the reception. Music is already playing from the DJ Dima surprised us with who specializes in ‘80s music, and I hear the clinking of glasses as the party gets started. We’re surrounded by friends who come up to hug us and wish us all the best. I’m grateful for it, but the first second I can, I pull Moira into the side room and grab the fur coat that’s hanging up as we make our escape out the back door and to the pier that stretches out onto the lake.
When we’re walking down the pier, I tighten the coat around her so she’s warm enough. “You look absolutely stunning.”
“So do you.” She grabs onto my hands and pulls me closer. “You must be freezing,” she says, bringing my hands up so she can blow on them.
“I’m too happy to be cold.” I run a finger down her cheek, memorizing every detail of her face.
“Thank you for all the presents, Kolya. Everything is so beautiful.”
“You’re what makes them so beautiful. They’d be nothing without you.”
She blushes at the compliment and kisses my hand.
“I have one more present for you.”
She starts to protest, so I quiet her with a kiss. It was just supposed to be a quick peck to stop her reasons for why I shouldn’t spoil her, but the second our lips touch, it turns hungry. She lets out a soft moan and runs her tongue along mine, setting my body on fire like only she can. When I finally pull back, we’re both gasping, our breaths clouding around us from the cold.
“I can’t fuck you outside in the cold because you’re pregnant and I’d feel bad. Although,” I say, eyeing her in the black fur, “it’s tempting as hell.”
She laughs and cups my face, stroking my cheek with her thumb. “I can’t believe you’re my husband. I feel too lucky, like this is some sort of joke and you’re going to start laughing and then bring out your gorgeous, blonde, Russian wife.
I laugh because it’s so damn preposterous that I have a hard time taking it seriously. “You’re adorable,” I say, laughing again when she scowls at me for not taking this to heart. “If it makes you feel any better, I feel the same about you. I keep waiting for you to say, you’re too old, Kolya, I’ve found myself a young stud and we’re going to run off together.”
She laughs at the image. “A young stud, huh?”