“I got it again!” Gram shouted.
A collective groan echoed inside the marbled foyer.
Libby spun around to see the older woman lift the bouquet over her head like she was a champion boxer. “How . . . ?”
Noah laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “She and Nana Ruby walked in the door just as you threw it. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.” He called over to the two women. “Maybe you really are destined to get married in Vegas, Gram!”
Libby had to wonder if Noah might be right. “Congrats, Gram! I can’t wait to meet your groom.”
Nana Ruby scowled. “Don’t encourage her.”
The two grandmothers wandered off in the opposite direction, which was probably for the best considering several of the younger women in the crowd looked like they wanted to tackle Gram.
They walked to the elevator in silence—the only sounds around them were the voices of the people passing by and the swish of her skirt. A sudden sense of dread filled Libby as she thought about the taxi driver’s words. To her horror, she realized he was right. She’d spent so much time thinking about getting married, she hadn’t stopped to consider marriages could be ended. They might be married now, but he wasn’t permanently attached to her. He could walk away at any time.
Blair and Garrett’s profession was proof enough of that.
Noah’s hand squeezed hers. “Lib, you okay?”
The elevator door opened and she was surprised to find an empty car. They walked inside and she kept her gaze on the doors as they closed, her stomach tying into knots.
“Lib, talk to me.” The anxiety in his voice caught her by surprise.
What should she tell him? That she was still scared to lose him? Did she really want to sound so pathetic on their wedding night?
She put her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes, searching for answers to the questions she was too scared to ask. She lifted up to kiss him and he covered her hand with his.
“Lib?” He was more insistent this time, and his face was pinched with worry.
“I just can’t believe you’re mine,” she repeated his words. He pulled her into his arms, kissing her so senseless that it took her several moments to realize the doors had opened and an older couple was waiting to get into the car.
“Sorry,” Libby said as Noah pulled her to the side.
He grinned down at her. “I’m not,” he whispered.
She smiled back. This was Noah. Her Noah. She knew they were perfect for each other—that she couldn’t find a man who would suit her better.
Even if her own palm told her differently.
Sometime between Megan and Blair’s weddings, she’d fallen in love with him. She’d been too foolish and scared to admit it to herself, but some part of her had known for a while.
Now that the curse had worked out after all, should she worry about the destiny on her palm? Was their marriage already destined to fail?
The elevator stopped at their floor and Noah tugged her off the car and toward their room.
She had a choice—she could let her worries consume her and ruin their night, or she could let it go and consummate her marriage to the man she’d never thought she could have.
She chose to celebrate her new life.
Noah held the door open with his foot, and with a wicked gleam in his eyes, he bent down and swooped her up into his arms.
“Noah!” she squealed, laughing. “You’re going to break your back!”
“Not a chance.” He grinned, looking down. “The bigger threat is me tripping on your dress and crushing you.”
She pulled up the fabric and shot him a wicked look of her own. “I prefer to have you on top of me in bed.”
The intensity of his kiss caught her by surprise. So much so she barely noticed Noah swinging the door shut behind them and lowering her until her feet touched the floor. Her arms still clung to his neck and he pulled her so close she couldn’t catch her breath.
She dropped her hands and unbuttoned his jacket, spreading her palms across his chest, the cotton of his shirt rough under her fingertips. She wanted to feel his bare skin. She wanted to taste it. She wanted to feel it pressed against her own naked body.
He groped at the rise of her ass and she realized he was fumbling with the lacings of her dress. He cursed under his breath and she couldn’t help laughing.
“You’ll never get it like that.” She turned around and presented her back to him. “It’ll go faster if you can see what you’re doing.”
He paused for a moment, then she felt his hands at her lower back. “You and this dress are going to be the death of me, Libby St. Clair. I’ll die from oxygen deprivation because all the blood that goes to my brain has gone somewhere else.”
“Maybe it’s Libby McMillan now.”
“Not helping,” he grunted as he turned her around and kissed her again. One of his hands cradled the side of her face as the other worked on the strings at the base of her spine.
She pulled back, grinning. “Who knew changing my name would make you so happy.”
“You can keep St. Clair if you want, but I have to admit I like the idea of you taking McMillan.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be just one more piece of proof that you’re mine.”
She gave him a gentle kiss and then spun around to show him her back. “Let’s get this off so you can see more proof of what’s yours.”