Chapter 49

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

CATLIN

I spent my morning with Quinn and Layla, both of them doting over me and helping me get ready. Today is a day that I never thought would come. Especially not here, like this. How Finn managed to pull this one off will forever remain a mystery to me.

Quinn tucks the clip of my veil into my hair and spreads the sheer fabric across my back, ensuring that it’s perfect. Kneeling at my feet, Layla helps me to slip on my heels before I stand. The two of them fluff the puffy tulle of my dress. I’m so grateful for the sisters that I gained. Staring at me with watery eyes, Quinn shares, “You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

“You have to say that.” I rapidly blink my eyes, trying to hold back my tears.

“No, I’m supposed to say it.” She looks at me with warmth, love, and kindness. “But I definitely mean every word.”

“Stop!” I exclaim. “You’ll make me cry, and then Layla will have to do this makeup all over again.”

“She’s right,” Conor croons from the doorway. “You are fucking vision; absolutely stunning.”

“We’ll see you downstairs.” Layla smiles as she and Quinn grab their bouquets and make their way to the door. Playfully poking her finger into Conor’s chest on her way out, she warns, “No funny business with her.”

“No promises.” He smirks, and Layla rolls her eyes as he crosses the room to me. Reaching out a hand, he takes mine and pulls me in to place a brotherly kiss on my cheek. Holding me close and winking, he shares, “It isn’t too late, you know.”

“Too late for what?” I ask, pretty certain I know the answer.

“It isn’t too late for you to run away with me instead.” He laughs. “It would crush my baby brother. But for you, I’d get over it.”

“You sure know how to sweet-talk a lady,” I snark with a chuckle.

“Fine. You want sweet talk.” He huffs, feigning an eye roll. “We can just fuck real fast before I take you downstairs.”

“If you’re going to say sweet things like that, how could I possibly refuse?” I tease, slipping my arm into his. “Are you okay with sloppy seconds? Because I’ve already been with one Evans brother this morning.”

“Gross,” he grumbles as we make our way downstairs. “It was Liam, wasn’t it? I fucking knew he’d get to you first.”

An obnoxious laugh billows from my lungs as we reach the vestibule and stand before the doors to the nave. When they open slowly, a broad smile is still spread across my face as the organist begins to play Wagner’s Bridal Chorus.

“My brother is a lucky fucking man,” Conor warmly shares, placing his hand over mine and resting it in the crook of his arm. Giving it a gentle squeeze, he walks me down the aisle to where Finn is patiently waiting to take me as his wife, his eyes locked on mine. With every step closing the distance between us, my heart swells; his admiration painted across his face. Reaching the altar, Conor teasingly whispers, “Last chance.”

Overhearing him, Finn quietly grunts, “Really? On our wedding day?”

“I figured it was my last shot.” Conor shrugs as I slap his arm. “But for some ungodly reason, she keeps saying no.”. He places a chaste kiss on my cheek and passes me to Finn before he takes his place on the altar beside his brothers.

“You’re so beautiful,” Finn whispers, squeezing my hand as I take my spot beside him.

“You are,” Uncle Sean softly agrees before beginning the nuptial mass. I barely hear a word as I stare up at the man I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.

“I promise to cherish every bit of you—the good and the bad—unconditionally,” I vow, slipping a ring onto Finn’s finger. “That I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

“This life.” Finn slowly slides the band down my finger. “And every life after. I will spend all of eternity burning for you, piscín .”

“By the power vested in me by the great state of New York, I now pronounce you man and wife.” Uncle Sean smiles at the two of us. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Wasting no time, Finn pulls me into him, and his lips crash into mine. His fingers slide into my hair, fisting it lightly as he presses his tongue between my lips. Plundering my mouth, he moans into me with need, leaving me wanting when he quickly pulls away. I take a moment to compose myself and open my eyes, finding Uncle Sean pulling at the back of Finn’s suit jacket as he snarls, “For the love of Christ, Finnigan Shay Evans. Have some respect for my church.”

“Sorry, Father.” Finn wipes spittle from his chin and mine. Turning back toward me, he mouths, ‘ I’m not sorry .’

I snicker at his confession as he pulls me into him, and he hastily walks me back up the aisle as the recessional plays. “You’re going to find out how not sorry I am the moment I get you into the back of the limo outside.”