Reign (The Sainthood - Boys of Lowell High #3)(50)



“Babe.” Caz knocks on the door, but he doesn’t open it. “It’s nearly time to leave. You almost ready?”

“I’m ready.” Blood rushes to my head, and butterflies swoop into my belly. I knot my hands in an uncharacteristic surge of anxiety. Tugging at the layers of tulle on my skirt, I pull the tight crop top down, smoothing out any last-minute wrinkles. My tongue is almost glued to the roof of my dry mouth, as anxiety continues twisting knots in my stomach, and that fluttering feeling in my chest accelerates until I fear I’m about to have a coronary.

Get your shit together, Harlow.

I give myself a silent pep talk, breathing deeply until the panic has subsided and I’m more in control.

Drawing a brave breath, I march toward the door and swing it open, stepping confidently into the main room as my composure returns.

Four pairs of heated eyes dart to mine, and time stands still. I stop breathing, sucking in a gasp as I drink in the sight of my gorgeous guys.

Caz is wearing a white button-down shirt with dark jeans, both items hugging his muscular body in all the right places. His eyebrow piercing and lip ring are in, and his dark hair is styled back from his face. His warm brown eyes glint with heat as his gaze rakes over me, and he smiles in appreciation.

Theo is wearing gray skinny jeans, a rocker T-shirt, and a fitted black jacket with a patterned trim. Bunches of bangles and leather ties adorn his wrists. His hair is freshly washed, hanging loose around his face, and my fingers twitch with a craving to touch the silky strands. Theo gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he drinks his fill of me. He blows me a kiss, mouthing I love you, and my heart speeds up.

My eyes flit to Galen, and I smile at my dark prince. He’s wearing a tight-fitting black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing the ink on his arms. The top few buttons are undone, highlighting his toned chest and the colorful ink running up one side of his neck. Black fitted pants and new black boots complete his sexy look. His hair is artfully styled in a mess of tumbles on top of his head, and his green eyes radiate happiness as he stares at me in awe.

Saint steps forward, and I suck in another gasp. Our eyes connect, and I stop breathing again. He is the epitome of sex on a stick in his fitted black suit with black button-down shirt. Unlike Galen, his shirt is buttoned to the top, hiding the ink on his chest.

He closes the gap between us, standing directly in front of me. “Princess.” His voice is all choked up, and it inflames the messy ball of emotion churning in my gut. Lifting his hand, he gently touches my face, tipping my chin up. His tattooed fingers lightly hold me in place. Adoration and something much deeper swim in the depths of his beautiful blue eyes as he stares at me. “You are breath-taking and we’re the luckiest bastards alive.” He takes my hand, lifting it to his mouth, and kissing across my knuckles.

“Wow.” Caz steps forward and Saint passes my hand to his, stepping aside. “You look so fucking hot. I want to live inside you and never resurface for air.”

I giggle, peering into his fiery brown eyes as he too kisses the back of my hand. “Thanks. I think.”

Theo is up next, and he can’t contain the ginormous grin lighting up his face. “Madonna’s got nothing on Harlow Westbrook.” He presses a feather-soft kiss to my cheek, careful not to smudge my makeup. “You’re stunning, babe.”

I’m fighting tears by this point, and we haven’t even gotten to the ceremony yet.

“You’re a knockout, angel,” Galen agrees, threading his fingers in mine. “And you couldn’t be any more perfect.”

Saint hands me a simple bouquet of white roses, the short stems securely wrapped in white ribbon, and I almost lose it. “Stop it!” I smile through my tears. “You’re going to ruin my makeup.” I laugh to deflect the potent emotion consuming me. “And you are all so handsome and so fucking hot. If anyone’s lucky, it’s most definitely me.”

We snap a few pics, including a group selfie, before we head out. We guzzle some more champagne in the limo en route to city hall, and I’m grateful when Theo passes me a bottle of water, because I’m feeling a little tipsy, and I want to be fully coherent when I say my vows.

The justice of the peace we booked is waiting for us when we reach the designated room in city hall, and he wastes no time getting started. I hold Saint’s hands as we face one another with the guys standing close behind us.

Much of the ceremony is a blur because I’m transfixed by the man unraveling before my eyes. I’ve never seen so much emotion on Saint’s face before, and to know it’s all for me is mind-fucking-blowing.

He stumbles over his vows, and tears well in my eyes as I watch my brave, broken, sexy boy commit himself to me. My vows ring out confident and clear, and I keep my eyes on Saint, as I recite the words, until the very end when I purposely lock eyes with Caz, Theo, and Galen too. We exchange rings, and I get tingles sliding the black band on Saint’s finger, knowing he’s mine for life.

Saint kisses the shit out of me when the officiant confirms we are husband and wife, and I’m barely breathing when I finally come up for air.

The poor officiant almost keels over in shock when I kiss each of my guys in turn, and I’m waylaid as a fit of giggles accosts me. I double over laughing, because the look on his face is priceless, and I’m betting this is one wedding he won’t forget in a hurry.

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