"Are you insane?" Bert stared at his cousin.

Joey nodded in agreement. "It's definitely not normal, Leon. You're getting married tomorrow. Is a stunt like this necessary?"

The villa stood three stories high. A fall meant a hospital bed, not an altar.

Leon flexed his wrists, his expression flat. "Shut up. I'm taking the pipe from the second-floor balcony. Jamie is leaving the window unlocked."

"An inside job," Joey noted, slapping his knee.

Leon ignored them. He climbed to the second floor and pushed the balcony door open. Joey trailed behind him.

"Think about this," Joey urged. "You're a boxer, not a high jumper. Even a track star wouldn't jump three stories."

"Close your mouth," Leon commanded.

He gripped the stone ledge, his forearms bulging under the tension. With a fluid, athletic movement, he swung himself out.

Joey and Bert scrambled to the edge, peering into the dark. "Leon? Bro? You alive?"

"Keep it down!" Leon's voice hissed from above. "Don't wake Lucien."

The two heads tilted up.

Damn. The wolf can climb.

Leon scaled the exterior pipe with predatory precision. Within seconds, his boots hit the third-floor sill.

Inside the suite, Lucien let out a long yawn. "Jamie? Why are you still here? Go to sleep."

Jamie watched the window, his posture stiff. "Going now."

The latch clicked. Leon rolled into the room as Jamie bolted for the door. The roommate didn't want to be a third wheel to whatever "fire" was about to start.

Lucien's eyes were heavy. He started to turn off the lamp when he noticed the curtains swaying in the breeze.

Didn't Jamie shut that?

He shuffled toward the window in his slippers. Before he could reach the glass, a massive arm reached out from behind the silk drapes.

Lucien didn't have time to scream. He was hauled flush against a solid, warm wall of muscle.

"You came through the window?" Lucien gasped, his heart doing parkour against his ribs.

Leon arched a dark brow, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"You're crazy!" Lucien's voice trembled. "This is the third floor. Do you have any idea—"

Leon silenced him with a kiss.

Lucien was a "disgruntled bunny" one second and a puddle of melted sugar the next. His anger vanished. His bones went soft.

"Better," Leon rumbled, pulling back an inch.

"I couldn't wait," Leon admitted, his steel-gray eyes tracking Lucien's every tremor. "The wedding is tomorrow. I needed to hold you."

Lucien slammed his palm over Leon's mouth before the man could say anything more "explosive."

Leon kissed the center of Lucien's palm. "I won't do anything, baby. I just want to sleep. I'll leave before dawn."

Lucien looked at him for a long beat, searching for a lie. He eventually sighed and nodded.

The lights died.

They lay together, Lucien's cheek pressed to Leon's chest. The rhythmic thud of the man's heart settled the itch under Lucien's skin.

"What if I mess up the vows?" Lucien whispered into the dark.

"It doesn't matter," Leon rasped, rubbing the small of Lucien's back. "Everyone there loves us. If you stumble, they'll just think you love me too much to speak."

"Narcissist," Lucien grumbled.

"I'm the one who loves you," Leon corrected. "The most."

He kissed Lucien's forehead. "Sleep, baby."

Lucien slept dreamlessly. He woke to an empty bed and a screaming alarm.

He sat up, dazed. He touched the pillow beside him. It was still warm.

The door burst open. Jamie and the roommate charged in like a tactical unit.

"Hair first!" Jamie shouted. "The makeup artist is already downstairs!"

Lucien was handled like a delicate porcelain doll. He was dyed, curled, and painted until his head spun.

Finally, they draped him in his suit. Both Leon and Lucien had chosen white, but Lucien's lapel featured a gold-embroidered rose.

The exhaustion of the prep finally numbed his nerves. "Are we done yet?"

"Don't move," Jamie commanded, leaning in with a brush. "Your eyeliner is a science."

The stage was a masterpiece of glass and white flowers built right on the sand. It had taken half a month to complete.

Two red carpets stretched toward the center.

Lucien stood at the start of his path, taking deep, shaky breaths. The music swelled, the drums hitting like physical blows to his chest.

He walked forward. He saw Freya, Jamie, and a grinning Bert. This was his new life.

At the end of the carpet, Leon Bolton waited.

The man was a silhouette against the brilliant sun. He stepped forward to meet his lamb halfway.

Lucien looked up, his amber-gray eyes crinkling.

"Hello, sir," Lucien whispered. "Do you like watching boxing?"

Leon's voice was a low, jagged scrape. "Whose match?"

"My lover's."

Leon's expression broke into a rare, devastating smile.

Coco trotted up the aisle, a velvet box clamped in his jaws. Leon signaled the dog, and the "little master" sat perfectly still.

Leon took the rings.

They exchanged the bands in front of their friends, the silver glinting under the Caribbean sun.

"Can I, baby?" Leon asked.

Lucien closed his eyes and hummed a soft 'yes.'

Leon cupped his face and kissed him with a tenderness that felt like a vow.

Applause erupted in waves. Balloons flooded the sky.

From a nearby perch, the parrot flapped its wings, screaming the only two words it knew.

"Happy! Happy!"