Free Let Us Prey: BBW Military Paranormal Romance (Wild Operatives, #2) by Vivienne Savage Page A

her failure to complete college, but singing never made the conversation. She had a beautiful voice.
    “Leigh used to be the best in the choir before...” Richard’s voice trailed.
    It became crystal for me then, and I was able to understand everything about the sorrow on her face during the service. I finally knew her reasons for attending despite their unwelcoming behavior.
    “Would they let her in the choir again now? Look, I know you don’t much like her the way you used to, but even you have to admit she’s paid her dues. What do we have to do to get this town to accept it?”
    They looked at each other. “I think everything has to start with us, Ian.”

Chapter Seven
    ~Leigh~
    M y husband-to-be arrived in jeans. He wore them well, but I couldn’t help but mourn the loss of the classic fairy tale wedding from my childhood fantasies.
    In my dreams, I’d wear an exquisite white gown with trailing lace while a half dozen bridesmaids beamed proudly from beside the altar. They wore blue, my favorite color, with wine-colored sashes around their waists. I had flowers in my hair and a piano player skillfully announcing my arrival with the wedding march. His hands would glide over the ivories and I’d emerge to find a captive audience who melted before my beauty on my special day. My father would lead me down the aisle to a handsome man in a flawless tuxedo, join our hands, and give me away with tears in his eyes.
    The crushing reality was a Wal-Mart dress from the clearance aisle and two of Ian’s friends in their Sunday best. My dad died two years ago from throat cancer and my friends scattered like cockroaches when the shit hit the fan after Sophia’s birth.
    One glance at the man beside me sped my pulse rate to a jackhammer pace. Ian was a good-looking man, a kind man, and there were worse guys to marry. I’d hoped his kindness would soothe the butterflies in my belly, but it didn’t. I nervously smoothed my fingers over the edge of my yellow and white sundress.
    “It’s not too late to change your mind,” Ian whispered in my ear.
    “I should be telling you that.” It was his crazy idea, after all.
    “Nah, I’m good.”
    The simple ceremony lacked fanfare. An old tape player running in the background provided our Wedding March and the magistrate stood by a long table where our wedding license waited. He spoke a few solemn words regarding the sanctity of marriage before asking if we each accepted the other. Then he had us sign the papers. Envying Ian’s steady handwriting, I tried to script my own name without my pen shaking all over the line. He was unwavering, steel nerves and perfect composure.
    “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”
    Instinctively, my eyes shifted from the judge to my new husband and found Ian closely watching me in return. Before I could concoct a phony excuse or claim modesty, Ian’s mouth lowered against mine.
    Ian swept me away with his intensity. My fingers threaded through his silvering hair and anchored him in place as surely as the arms around my waist held me to his military-honed physique. Years after his retirement, he was still built like a soldier at the peak of his career.
    His tongue darted between my lips, prompting me to open my mouth in acceptance. My nipples tightened beneath my strapless bra and our audience vanished from my memory. Only the tangle of our tongues mattered, along with how much I wanted to guide Ian’s hand from my waist to my breasts, or better yet, to place it between my thighs where my panties dampened.
    I came away from the kiss breathless and red-cheeked, the heat spreading all the way to the neckline of my dress like a badge of embarrassment for everyone to see. From the corner of my vision, I caught sight of Ian’s strange champagne-colored eyes with a smirk on his face, watching me.
    Seconds after we exited the courtroom, I twisted to whisper in his ear, “Did you really have to kiss me that way in front of