Needing Carrie: A Savage Brothers MC Novella(17)

I walk to my position beside the preacher and wait. The music slightly changes and here comes Skye dressed in a pale pink dress that leaves her shoulders bare and ends just below her knees. Bull is holding her close. My brothers may have refused to wear suits, but seeing Bull in jeans and his Savage cut, I like it. My family. I wish I had worn mine, but Carrie deserves her prince. I’ll never be that. Hell, I’ll probably always be a troll like in that silly fairytale I made up. Yet, for Carrie, I’m trying. Bull escorts Skye to her spot and kisses her before coming to me, grabbing my hand in his. The f*cker squeezes a bit too hard, but I understand. He’s happy for me. For all the shit he likes to give me, I love the motherf*cker.

Next, Crusher and Dani walk down the aisle. If any of the women have made major changes these last few years, it’s been Dani. She looks so relaxed and happy now. Moving to Tennessee has been good for her and my brother. Dani is special to me. She helped me more times than I can count when I was working my head around shit and trying to come out of the darkness for Carrie. Maybe because she’s been there, she knows the demons I deal with. Whatever the reason, I probably talk to her more than I do Crusher. Since they’ve moved Dani and I touch base at least once a week, before I hand Carrie the phone. She went through a small rough patch when they thought they weren’t going to get to adopt Dakota, but she’s taken to being a mother like she was made for it. Crusher says they’re going to adopt a little girl soon. Dani deserves that. She deserves all the happiness she can find in this world, and I love my brother more for hanging in there and making sure she gets it.

The music shifts again, and I look up as Dragon and Nicole walk…no…strut down the aisle. Dragon never just walks, anywhere, I think with a smile. Nicole’s dress is a shade darker than the others, her long blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. She keeps looking up at Dragon and smiling. From the first moment I watched these two together, I knew what they had was special. I resented it at first—because I’m an *. Then, I was jealous of it. After I finally stopped pushing Carrie away, I realized that I always had that kind of relationship in my reach. I’m f*cking glad Carrie never gave up on me.

When Dragon finally takes his spot beside me, clapping me hard on the shoulder, those f*cking nerves I’ve been fighting with return with a vengeance. The music changes again, to the opening chords of the wedding march. My stomach tightens as Jazz comes into view. She’s wearing a beautiful white dress that Mary helped me get made. It looks just like the one Carrie will be wearing. Jazz is a miniature Carrie and that’s just how it should be. I love that she’s growing up to be as beautiful and giving as her mother. Of course, when she gets older I’m going to f*cking kill any of the boys who try to touch her. It’s my job as her father.

Jazz gets about half way down the aisle. She’s throwing little pink petals out and staring intently at the basket. Then she looks up—and it’s over.

“Daddy!” she yells and takes off running to me. I barely have time to bend down and grab her in my arms before she makes contact. Everyone is laughing, but me. This moment changes things for me. The nerves disappear. The worries disintegrate. I inhale the scent of my daughter. Sweet, gentle, Jazz mixed in with the baby lotion Carrie has always put on her. There’s nothing for me to worry about. My girls are just that. Mine. Everything is good. It’s better than good. I hold Jazz to me.

“Daddy loves you, Princess,” I whisper to her, feeling that all the way to my toes.

“Come to Uncle Dragon, so Daddy can pay attention to the preacher man,” Dragon says from behind me, and with one last squeeze I hand her over and turn, waiting for Carrie to walk to me.

I must have been holding my breath, because the minute I see her standing there, taking that first step I exhale so hard it hurts my lungs.

“You’re a lucky bastard,” Dragon says from behind me. I can’t tear my eyes away from Carrie to even yell at him for cursing in front of Jazz. I don’t want to miss a minute of her walking to me. She walks slowly, in time with the music. There’s the veil covering her face and as much as I wanted her to wear it—I now hate it. Carrie said it was a tradition that was slowly fading and she wanted to wear one. She liked the idea of her husband lifting it away. I understand that, but right now I want to see her eyes. The minute she gets to me I fix it so the veil is pulled up out of the way.

Her beautiful green eyes are shining at me. There’s tears rolling down her face, but those beautiful lips of hers carries the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.

“You’re not supposed to cry, Care Bear,” I tell her, my thumb trying to catch the next tear as it falls.

“I can’t help it. I’m marrying my, Prince,” she whispers. “I love you, Jacob.”

“I love you too,” I tell her, leaning down and taking her lips with mine. The taste is slightly salty from her tears, cherry from her lip gloss, and all Carrie. I drink from them, sucking them into my mouth, wondering how a woman you have been with for years now still manages to taste brand new with each kiss. Wondering how she can still feel innocent and like light itself to me, but she does, and I know she always will.

“Son, we’re not at that part yet,” the preacher whispers, while the others laugh. Carrie hands Nicole her bouquet of daisies I had made, and turns back to me, holding my hands.

“Maybe we should hurry this along then Pastor Jones?” she says, her eyes not leaving mine. That makes everyone laugh, including me.