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  I can’t help but laugh at his assessment of the common tradition of the father’s role in a wedding. It is a little heartbreaking if I think about it, though.

  As we approach the entrance to the chapel, the bridal march music starts and we step into the main room. The pews are full of our friends and family, and I’m shocked since I thought this would just be a small, intimate affair. When my eyes scan the crowd, I’m more than shocked to see Travis, Mike, Kale, and Drew sitting on one pew. Cami, Crystal, Leslie, and Jada are also here. Several of the guys from Pop’s gym are here, too.

  My eyes sweep up to Luke’s, and he’s smiling brightly. He arranged this and kept it all a secret to surprise me. I’m so lucky to be marrying a man who has put his complete trust in me. Even to the point of inviting another man, one who matters to me, to our wedding. Travis is important to me, as a friend, and I want him in my life. But Luke is the love of my life and I can’t live without him.

  As we approach, Luke’s eyes rake over me from top to bottom, then bottom to top, over and over. I can’t help but smile because I know what he’s thinking. I may have tortured him over the past couple of weeks, but I really want our wedding night to be special in every way. If I hadn’t put the brakes on, we’d have never left the bedroom to even prepare for the wedding.

  Great. Now I’m thinking about rushing through the service so we can get to the honeymoon. I’ve tortured myself as much as I’ve tortured Luke. It’s a good thing that we never get our fill of each other because we now have a lifetime to feast on each other.

  So mesmerized by my husband-to-be in his tuxedo, I barely hear what the pastor says until it’s time to give my vows.

  “I understand the bride and groom have written their own vows. Andi, please recite your vows to Luke,” he states.

  “Luke, I am so completely in love with you, and I promise to spend my life showing you just how much. I promise to give all of my love to you every day. You will never question whether I need you. In good or bad times, happy or sad days, in sickness or in health, there is no one else for me. I need you. I want you. I love you. Everything I do will be to make our lives together better,” I promise as I slip the ring on his finger.

  “Now Luke, please recite your vows to Andi,” the pastor instructs.

  “Andi, you make me want to be the best man I can possibly be. Your love is an inspiration, and I will do whatever it takes to be worthy of your love every day. Wherever you are, whatever you need, and whatever the cost to myself, I will be standing next to you. All I want in life is to make you happy, show you that you’re so very loved, and spend every day with you. I promise you will never regret being my wife,” Luke says as he slides the ring onto my finger.

  Looking at our hands, I see our tattoos peek out from under our rings, reminding us that our love for each other will never fade, will never wash away, and will never die.

  True love doesn’t die. It only grows stronger, regardless of the circumstances and storms that circle around us. When we pull together, we are much stronger than we could ever be standing alone. There’s nothing that can come against us that we can’t weather. We may bend, but we will never break.

  The preacher announces us man and wife and we kiss. Luke’s frustration is obvious as he takes too much pleasure in our first kiss as a married couple. It isn’t an appropriate, light tongue kiss—it’s a take-me-upstairs-and-do-me-now tongue. At least our guests get a big kick out of it.

  As we move to the reception area, Luke sweeps me up into his arms and carries me across the threshold. “I know we’re not home yet, but I didn’t want to miss the chance to hold you.”

  “I’m all yours. You can hold me any time you want, Mr. Woods.”

  “Why thank you, Mrs. Woods. I will take you up on that. Frequently.” He smiles seductively.

  He makes me weak in the knees when he does that.

  He’s right about one thing. That’s my smile. It was never anyone else’s.

  We dance, the champagne flows, and everyone enjoys the party. During our dance, I thank Luke for inviting the bands, including Travis.

  Luke shrugs. “I can’t blame him for being in love with you, baby. I’m so head over heels in love with you, I understand how others will be, too. I still can’t believe you chose me.”

  “It was never a choice, Luke. I’m where I belong and where my heart always knew I should be. It’s always been you,” I assure him.

  “That’s why I’m okay with Travis being here. It’s always been you for me, too,” he says before kissing me. “I believe you and I trust you with my heart and with my life.”

  “Is this party over yet? I’d like to be alone with my husband now,” I coo.

  “Party’s over. Everyone out. We need to leave,” Luke announces, and the crowd erupts in laughter.

  “You haven’t even cut the cake yet!” Brandon laughs.

  “Lucas Woods, you are not leaving your wedding reception without pictures, cutting the cake, and Andi dancing with Mack and with Sam. The foot is down, young man,” Linda exclaims.

  “Yes, Mom,” Luke agrees.

  This is my family. This is my life. I love it—every last crazy bit of it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  LUKE

  March

  We had the best honeymoon in the history of honeymoons. Training camp had just ended, and I had plenty of extra time before the next round of hard-core training began. When I finally got rid of our family and friends, and got my wife alone in our suite, I made sure Mrs. Woods screamed my name repeatedly.

  At one point, hotel security knocked on the door just to make sure I wasn’t hurting her. She assured him, with a permanent smile on her face and a sheet wrapped around her toga-style, that I was doing anything but hurting her. He left our door with a red face and an uncomfortable cough. My laughter could be heard echoing down the hall even after we closed the door.

  Taking Andi back to the bedroom, I lay her on the bed and stripped the sheet away from her beautiful body. Taking her nipple, I sucked on it until the hardened peak formed in my mouth. Taking the other one between my thumb and middle finger, I gently rolled it back and forth as she moaned appreciatively under me.

  Moving to the other side and lavishing it with the same attention, I moved my free hand down between her legs. “So ready for me, baby.”

  Slowly sliding my finger back and forth over her core, spreading the wetness and readying her for me, I made her wait like she made me wait. Sweet torture, increasing her anticipation, I teased her by only sliding the tip of my finger inside her.

  “Now, Luke,” she demanded, grabbing my hair and pulling it.

  “What, baby? What do you want me to do?” I asked.

  “I need you inside me, Luke. I need you now,” she begged.

  Quickly sliding one finger completely inside her, I felt her muscles grab on to me as she took what I offered. Repeating my movements, I felt her body climbing higher and higher to that peak. As I added a second finger, she unraveled before my eyes.

  “You’re mine now, Andi,” I growled at her. “You’re so fucking beautiful, I can’t wait anymore.”

  “Then don’t wait. Take me now,” she gasped, pulling me to her.

  Pushing forward fully into her, I groaned at the feeling of her wet, soft inner walls gripping me firmly. Her back arched then her hips lifted, giving me full access to her. I surged into her as I pushed her legs forward to increase the angle of my penetration, and she screamed loudly in pleasure as I emptied myself into her.

  The next day, we left for a two-week honeymoon at the Four Seasons in Bora Bora. We made love every day and every night. We barely saw the ocean that surrounded our room. We barely left the bedroom to even eat. I had a lot to make up for from the time that we were apart and then the weeks when she made me wait.

  Our time away was absolute perfection. The stresses of everyday life were left behind, and we were able to focus on just our relationship. During one particular night of lovemaking, tears
leaked from her eyes, running down her temple. I stopped and just gazed into her eyes.

  “What is it, baby?” I asked.

  “I love you, Luke. You have no idea how much I missed you. I thought I’d lost you forever,” she cried.

  “You never lost me. You’ll never lose me because I know I don’t want to live without you. I tried it, and I’ve never been more miserable in my life. You make my life worth living. No one can ever take your place in my heart.” I comforted her.

  “No one else would ever put up with me, either,” I added, prompting a smile from her. “I love everything about you, Andi. Your heart, your smile, how you’re fearless, your trust, your beautiful voice, your gorgeous face, your rocking body. And I especially love this tattoo,” I said, holding up her ring finger with my name on it. “See this little pinky finger right here? You have me completely wrapped around it. I’m never going anywhere.”

  “You’ll never be rid of me, either. If you try to leave me, I’ll just follow you wherever you go. I’ve learned to depend on you, let you protect me, and thoroughly love me. You broke down the walls I’d built around myself, and now that you’re inside, I can’t let you leave,” she replied.

  The day we left from our honeymoon, Andi looked around the island oasis and smirked at me. “We’ll have to come back here soon. We didn’t get to see much of the scenery outside of our room over the last two weeks.”

  “Anytime you want, I’m with you,” I agreed.

  One month after we returned from our honeymoon, Andi met me at the door when I got home from the gym and handed me a plastic stick. When I looked at it, I got the surprise of my life.

  PREGNANT.

  “Really?” I asked and she nodded, beaming as bright as the sun. Gathering her in my arms, I picked her up off the floor and held her tightly.

  “Are you happy?” she asked pensively.

  “I’m more than happy, baby. I’m thrilled,” I told her as I released her. “Maybe it would’ve been better if we’d waited and had more time alone first, but I wouldn’t change it now for the world. It happened because it’s meant to be. Are you happy?”

  “I am, Luke. I’ve always wanted a big family, but we haven’t even had a chance to talk about it yet. I don’t know what you want or how you see us as a family in the future,” she said.

  Feeling her uncertainty, I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her until I felt her body relaxing again. “Baby, listen to me,” I said, leading her to the couch. Pulling her into my lap, I continued. “My whole life revolves around you and making you happy. I’d love to have a house full of kids with you. I’ll love your pregnant belly, your midnight cravings, and every milestone along the way.

  “But whether we have just one kid or fifteen, it won’t change anything. You are my life, and everything else is just the icing on the cake.”

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you now, Luke,” she admitted. “I know I fought you a lot on giving up my control, but I finally realized I’ve never had control when it comes to you. My heart has always made the decisions, no matter what my head said. I’m so glad it did because my head is crazy if it thinks I can do this without you.”

  The morning sickness hit her pretty hard soon after the doctor confirmed her pregnancy. “Morning” is apparently a subjective term because she was sick day and night for the first four months. One day, it just stopped and she was back to her normal self. From then on, there was no keeping food in the house for any length of time.

  Lying in bed one night, she was putting lotion on her expanding belly when I walked in. Seeing her like that really revved my engines more than I ever realized it would. “I may just have to keep you barefoot and pregnant all the time,” I said as I took the lotion from her.

  Coating my palms with the cocoa butter lotion, I began massaging it into her skin. Everywhere. Starting with her stomach, I worked my way up her torso, removing her shirt as I went. Paying special attention to her breasts before moving to her arms, I noticed that she was just as affected as I was. Moving to her legs, I ensured every square inch of her was properly worshiped by my hands. My lips and tongue may have had a small part of this impromptu massage.

  I’d heard that pregnancy hormones can make women friskier than usual, but I wasn’t prepared for the attack I had to endure. It was pure torture, the way she took advantage of me, used my body for her pleasure, and took what she wanted. When she was finished with me, I propped my spent self up on the pillows and smirked at her.

  “I feel so cheap and used,” I teased.

  “Get used to it. I still have five months of pregnancy to go through. You’ll be used many more times before it’s over,” she retorted.

  “Yep. Definitely keeping you pregnant all the time,” I laughed.

  She smacked me with a pillow. “Caveman.”

  “Oh, I love it when you talk dirty to me. Do it again.”

  “It’s time for a shower,” she demanded.

  “I just finished putting lotion on you,” I protested. “You want a shower now?”

  “Yep, and you’re coming with me. Then you can lotion me up again afterward.”

  “Yes, ma’am. If you insist,” I said as I rushed to start the water. I heard her laugh from behind me. She knows she has me wrapped around her little finger, and I’m damn proud of it.

  At our first ultrasound appointment, I tried to talk Andi into finding out the sex of the baby. She wouldn’t have it. She wanted both of us to be surprised when the baby was born so we didn’t have any preconceived notions of what our family is supposed to be. I think she read that in a new parenting magazine.

  At about seven months along, she got a little neurotic about fixing up the nursery and couldn’t make a decision on what decorations she wanted to use—because she didn’t know the sex of the baby. I couldn’t help but laugh, and that got me put in the doghouse for a couple of days.

  “Come on,” she announced. “We’re going to the doctor’s office.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, somewhat panicked. We didn’t have an appointment that day.

  “I called them,” she said nonchalantly. “I need to know what we’re having.”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” I teased. “It’s been seven months of waiting, you can wait two more months.”

  “No, I really can’t. The paint has to be completely dried before my baby can sleep in there. To know what paint color to get, I need to know if it’s a girl or a boy. So we’re having an ultrasound today to find out,” she explained patiently.

  “Andi,” I said, trying to reason with her. “You and I both know that the baby won’t be sleeping in the room alone for quite some time. That’s why there’s already a bassinette beside our bed.”

  “Luke,” she cooed as she put her arms around me and pressed her adorable belly against me. Before she had a chance to continue sweet-talking me, the baby kicked and hit me in the stomach.

  Squatting down in front of her, I placed my hands on her belly and talked to our baby. “Are you trying to tell me something, little one?” It had become a daily ritual for me to talk to Andi and then drop to my knees in front of her to talk our baby.

  “Yes, the baby would like to be addressed as a him or a her and not as an ‘it’ anymore,” Andi clarified.

  “Fair enough. Let’s go find out if we’re having a boy or a girl,” I said, secretly thrilled that she finally agreed.

  Sitting in the ultrasound room, Andi waited—impatiently—for the tech to finally get to her. After she took the usual measurements and confirmed that the baby’s growth was still on target, she finally moved to the main reason why we were there. Andi’s patience was really wearing thin by the time the tech started to look for evidence of the baby being a boy or a girl.

  “I’m sorry, the baby just isn’t giving us a good view. The cord is right in the way, and no matter what I do, the baby won’t move in the right direction,” the tech said after twenty minutes of trying.

  Sighing, Andi looked up at m
e and shook her head. “Already taking after you,” she muttered.

  I laughed openly and replied, “I don’t think I’m the most stubborn one here.”

  Andi smiled, knowing I had her there. “Whatever.”

  Today is the big day. Andi woke me up just before four this morning to tell me she was having contractions. After calling the doctor, she showered and dressed while continuing to time her contractions. After they’d remained consistent for over an hour, we left the house and headed for the hospital.

  “This is so surreal,” I say for the hundredth time since we arrived. “We’re about to be parents, baby.”

  Smiling brightly at me, she replies with the same reply each time. “I know! I’m scared and excited and scared. You’ll be a great dad, Luke.”

  Mack and Shane walk in just as a major contraction hits. “Do we need to leave?” Mack asks, clearly uncomfortable.

  “No, pull up a seat and stay a while,” I encourage them. During the actual delivery, Andi and I want to be alone, but we want to be surrounded by family and friends until then.

  Shane walks over and kisses Andi on the cheek. “Hey, sis. How are you feeling?”

  “Great now,” she says when the pain subsides. The needle on the monitor goes back to the normal range, and she visibly relaxes against her pillows. “You’re going to be an uncle soon, Shane. And you’re going to be a grandpa, Pop!”

  “Ugh,” Mack says in reply. “Can’t we stick with ‘Pop’ for this little one, too?”

  We all have a good chuckle at Mack’s reluctance to being called “Grandpa.”

  “Whatever you want, Pop.” Andi smiles. She’s been the only person who can get away with calling Mack by that name. Now it’ll be used as if it’s his given name.

  My parents, brother, sister, and brother-in-law all arrive at the same time. “Did all of you ride together?” I ask.

  “No, we just coordinated our arrival time,” Mom explains.

  “Come on in and grab a seat for the show,” I joke.