Page 95
June
Three months later
“I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t wait any longer before doing this.” I look down at where Emily is adjusting my train. A long train, the exact sort of train I always imagined having on my wedding day. I mean, I’m a romance writer. Of course I’m going to either go big or go home.
And I have no intention of going home.
“What do you mean?” Most of my family has pointed out how rushed the engagement was; this is the first time someone has suggested my timing was good. I’ve been questioned for three solid months. Who is this guy, where did he come from, how did you meet him? Why the hell are you marrying a man you barely know? The judgments about a shotgun wedding have really put a damper on everyone else’s excitement for my big day.
At least my parents approved of Adrian’s new business: a small personal-security company he started right after he moved to Florida. My parents were still not thrilled when we announced us living together right away.
But Emily has always been on my side, the way she’s been all our lives, which is the reason I told her the truth. She is the only one who knows about what really happened, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. “Duh, because you wouldn’t be able to fit into this dress much longer, the way you’re growing.”
“I’m not the one who’s growing. It’s the baby.”
“You know what I mean.” She stands, pink taffeta floating around her to match the pink roses she’s carrying. Big, luscious blooms, they add to the romantic vibe I’m going for today. I want this wedding to be a visual representation of the love exploding in my heart every single day.
“Thank you.” Throwing my arms around her, I give her a squeeze. Carefully, since taffeta wrinkles so easily. “I love you. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“You know I’ve got your back, always. And Adrian’s pretty cool,” she allows. Coming from Emily, that’s pretty much the highest compliment anyone can ask for. “Even considering his past.”
There’s a soft knock at the door to the bridal suite. “Come in,” I call out while giving my hair one last spritz of spray to hold it in place. The stylist worked so hard to get every curl looking perfect, pinning them up and creating an elaborate but classic look. I don’t want her work ruined.
“It’s just me.” Dad ventures into the room, looking bashful but handsome in his tuxedo. The silver at his temples makes him look distinguished too.
“You clean up pretty nice, Dad,” Emily tells him with a thumbs-up.
“So do you,” he tells her, nodding in approval when she does a twirl.
“They can call off the search for the next James Bond,” I decide. “You’ve got the part.”
“Are you kidding?” he asks with a chuckle, removing his wire-rimmed glasses to wipe them on his pocket square. “I would be shit at handling a gun.”
“Then I guess it must run in the family,” I say before thinking.
“Huh?”
“Huh?” I echo before giggling nervously. “Nothing. I mean, I’m just so happy!”
When he looks at the two of us, he wears the sort of fond, loving expression every girl wants to see from her dad. “How did I get so lucky? I have the two most beautiful daughters in the world.”
“Watch it,” I warn with a shaky laugh as I turn away from the mirror in my floor-length satin gown, overlaid with beaded lace. “You know how emotional I am nowadays. Don’t make me ruin my makeup.”
“I would never.” His quivering chin tells another story.
It’s time for somebody to lighten the mood. “How’s Mom? Has she stopped crying yet?” I ask.
“She’s chatting with Adrian and his brother. I think they’re both trying to keep her from becoming too hysterical.”
“Good luck with that,” Emily snarks. “If she cries any more, she’s going to dry up and blow away like a dead leaf.”
“Then I guess we had better get this show on the road before that happens. What do you think?” Dad offers a loving smile, the same smile he’s given me every day of my life. How lucky am I to have known so much love over the years?
And now I’ll get to pour all that love into my child. I couldn’t have written a happier ending than the one I’m facing now, as Emily hurries from the room to take her place after letting the officiant know we’re ready to start. We decided to hold the ceremony in the garden of a hotel downtown. We’ll get married in a flower-filled gazebo overlooking a pond where swans glide across the water. It really couldn’t be more perfect.
“Are you ready for this?” I guess it’s a father’s job, asking questions like that as we make the walk down a long hallway, the open doors ahead revealing the white runner and the chairs set up on either side. Our guests are ready and waiting, their chatter floating on the afternoon air.
“I’m as ready as I’ve ever been for anything.”
