Worth the Fall (The McKinney Brothers, #1)(98)

Matt answered with a reassuring pat on his shoulders, and Jack continued watching the doors at the end of the center aisle. So did he. She was here. She was coming. Of course every groom lived with the fear his bride might make a break for it at the last second. He wouldn’t breathe easy until he saw her walking toward him.

After taking the kids out last night, he’d driven to D.C. and been on Secretary Kedlar’s doorstep at eight o’clock this morning, papers in hand. Good thing the man liked him. Matt wanted it to be official. He wanted to hand these papers to Abby today, hopefully erasing every doubt in her mind that he wasn’t sure about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life.

Matt waited for that first note of music, the one that would have everyone standing. The one that would tell him the rest of his life was about to begin. The sight of his mom being escorted down the aisle by a teammate, Mary asleep in her arms, was a beautiful thing. They continued all the way to the front row and scooted in. His dad gave him a slight nod. Man code for all is well.

And then the music started. His sister came first, wearing a stylish black cocktail dress. All the sisters-in-law followed, each in a different style, but all wearing black. True to Abby’s nature, she’d insisted each woman wear what she felt most comfortable in.

Beth was last, holding her bouquet in one hand, a firm grip on Charlie with the other. A wise decision since his two-year-old Tasmanian devil kept bopping himself in the face with the ring-tied pillow the entire way.

Yep. A smile tugged at Matt’s mouth. Full of badness, that one. Charlie tossed the pillow like a Frisbee at Tony’s feet, then pulled away from Beth and dove into his grandpa’s lap.

Annie and Gracie walked side by side down the aisle. Their white dresses with black velvet sashes hung over white tights, almost touching the shiny black buckle shoes. Each girl wore a halo of white flowers in her hair; Gracie’s flowers were surrounded by a flurry of wild curls, while Annie’s hair was in braids wrapped around her head like a crown.

They both wore the silver heart necklaces he’d given them last night, a symbol of his love and his promise that they would always be his little girls. Gracie had gushed over the shine of her new prize, but the sparkle in Annie’s eyes had told him they’d been a good call. No bling for the boys, but he’d pinned his SEAL Trident on Jack’s tuxedo jacket. It was a toss-up as to which one of them was more proud.

The girls dropped red rose petals from the white baskets on their little arms as they walked. Annie worked in a sweeping pattern, placing one on her left, then her right, stepping as carefully as if she were traversing a minefield. Gracie filled in the gaps, flinging glorious handfuls and grinning ear to ear as they fell.

About three quarters of the way down, Gracie stopped and waved at him like she was flagging down a plane. “I’m doing my fowers,” she said in a loud kind of stage whisper, pointing at her basket and getting a laugh from the attending crowd. God, he loved her. All of them. They’d been his since the first day he’d seen them. And he’d been theirs the second Jack’s football hit his back.

Annie got to the end of the aisle, stopped, and looked into her basket. Then she upended it, dumping the unused petals in a pile. She continued to spread them into a nice wide carpet at the end of the silk runner until Beth assured her it was good and ushered her to stand close beside her.

Everyone was there. Except his bride. He concentrated on breathing in and out. No way would he faint at his own wedding. He shifted his feet, pulled Jack back against him a little closer.

The first note of the wedding march blew through the church like a blast and everyone stood. He still didn’t see her.

And then he did. She came in to view and stood just outside the church’s main doors in the narthex. The woman who’d owned his heart before he even knew her name.

With Joe and Angie on either side of her, Abby seemed to float toward him. A long cascade of silk followed the new curves of her body before flaring out at the floor. His eyes found hers and his heart beat stronger with every step she took. She was here. She was his. And he would work until he made everything okay.

The three of them stopped at the bottom step leading up to the altar and Matt was there, taking Abby’s hand, before Joe and Angie had finished the words We do, in answer to Who gives this woman? Yeah, he knew the tradition, but he was taking.

Abby’s lips curved into the sweetest smile, her eyes bright…dancing.

“I got her,” he said, folding his hand around hers, his other at the small of her back as he guided her up the three steps.

The groomsmen chuckled and Matt caught Beth rolling her eyes. Whatever. Abby was his.

Father Mike cleared his throat, ready to start. And so was Matt—more than ready to make Abby his wife.

He tried hard to concentrate on Father Mike’s words, knew they were important, but it was difficult to concentrate on anything with Abby this close, looking this beautiful. Her eyes were on the priest, like the good little Catholic girl she was. His were on her.

Her dark hair, wound up on top of her head and dotted with pretty little flowers, would be coming down later. He imagined the long strands slipping through his fingers, spreading out over his pillow. He would start at her neck, then trail his lips lower, over her breasts, and…

Huh? He jerked his eyes up to find Abby looking amused. Her head tilted slightly, her cute little eyebrows raised as if to say Really? She gave a little nod toward Father Mike, who was absolutely not amused.