Free Only Forever by Cristin Harber Page B

with.
    Ryder pours scotch for each of them and raises his glass. “To those you love, those you’ve lost, and those you’d die to see again. Cheers to getting the girl you’ve always wanted.”
    The room fills with hooah s and hooyah s, then we throw down the shots. A couple of back slaps later, I nod. “Let’s do this.”
    Emma and I opted to get married at our new home. Cally calls it her castle. Ems calls it our forever home. I don’t know if the place needs more of a name besides mine to go along with everything inside it. My house. My girls. Shit, my heart pounds in my chest, and I’m ready to claim my woman as my wife.
    We move from the living room, where the walls have Cally’s framed art and Emma’s photography hanging proudly. There’s artsy, handmade stuff all throughout as we head toward the back and pass a sign that says Ford Family, and then there’s another that we pass in the kitchen that says, “Happiness is Homemade.” But it’s not just her artistic touch that makes this place amazing—it’s that Emma struggled over every detail, from the carpet to the paint on the walls, and the result rocks.
    Just like this wedding. She wanted it close-knit and homemade, to make memories and to celebrate. I don’t need the ceremony any more than I need this house. These walls aren’t my home; my home is living and breathing. It’s my family, my life—everything I ever wanted and was too scared to go after. Emma and Cally are it for me. Where they are, I will go. They will always know how much they are loved and protected and that each breath I suck down is dedicated to making them the center of my world.
    “No, no.” Ryder’s growling voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Well, shit. Everyone out.”
    “What?” I’m pulling the tail of our group. They keep going straight to the back deck, but I turn around to see— Emma .
    Her white-lace dress is fitted down her body, leaving her arms bare, and she carries a bunch of flowers and jewels bundled together in one hand. I’m speechless. The heavy, slow thump of my heart echoes in my ears. There are no words for how I survived life to get to this point.
    “Hi,” she whispers. “Couldn’t stay away.”
    I snap out of my awe and take two steps to pull her into my arms. “You’re gorgeous.”
    Her eyelashes bat, and her cheeks blush.
    “And sexy. Christ. You’re all mine.”
    She nods, her teeth tugging on a glossy pink bottom lip. “You look handsome.”
    “I look like I’m yours.” Her pink smile lights my whole fuckin’ world. “You okay, Ems? What’s with this?”
    “Cally told me a story before she went off with my folks.” Her eyes brim with tears. “And she gave this to me, too. She wants you have it before we start.”
    Emma pulls out a picture from where she’s been holding it with the bouquet. As she unfolds it, I see our new house and, in front of it stand Cally, Emma, and me. Cally is in the middle, and we’re on either side, holding her hands, but our outside hands rise over the little figures’ heads and clasp in the air. All connected.
    “Before you first came home”—her voice shakes—“she drew me a picture of our old-new house. And on it, there I was, holding her hand, but my other hand scrawled off the page.” She closes her eyes like she’s trying to keep it together. “And tonight, she told me a story about a king who was lost until two princesses came to his rescue. Eventually, they lived happily ever after.” Tears slip down her cheeks until she laughs quietly. “Oh, and the princesses had a puppy. I think that’s her way of asking for a dog.”
    “Smart kid.” I swallow away the lump in my throat. “Our girl wants a puppy. Guess we’re getting a puppy.”
    I take the picture from Emma’s hand and fold it neatly, sliding it in my pocket, then pull my bride to my chest and drop a quick word to the guy upstairs, who I had once thought abandoned me. Hell, I thought that more than once. I prayed for a