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“I was just telling Heath that he’s gonna be fine.” Murphy crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. “Also, that he’ll make my sister very, very happy or suffer the consequences.”
“Yes, I can see how well that worked. He looks ready to puke in his shoes.” Daveed shook his head and sighed. “Seriously, though. I don’t know what you’re worried about. I’ve never seen two people more perfect for each other than you and Aileen. Well, perhaps except for Mel and I. You challenge each other, you support each other, you make each other better people because of your relationship. There is nothing better than that.”
Heath snorted. “When the hell did you get so wise?”
Daveed shrugged. “Maybe some of Mel’s new college education is rubbing off on me.”
“Maybe.” Heath laughed. Daveed and Mel had permanently relocated to Al Dar Nasrani a few months back. Just because Daveed had abdicated his throne for the woman he loved didn’t mean he wasn’t still deeply interested in the affairs of his island home. Between him and his two brothers they’d nearly talked his father into instituting a democracy in their tiny country and ending the monarchy that had been Daveed’s birthright. Daveed couldn’t have been happier. Add in his new wife and happy marriage and he too seemed ecstatic. Mel had since taken advantage of the free schooling available to all permanent residents of Al Dar Nasrani and enrolled in their highly acclaimed university. She was studying business and marketing last time Heath checked. “Yeah. I know I have no reason to be nervous, but I still am. Is that weird? I’m afraid I’m not good enough for her.”
“You’re not,” Murphy said, then grinned. “None of us are good enough for the women we love. But we try every day to be better. You’re a good man, brother. That’s all anyone can ask.”
“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s right,” Daveed said. “Now, the girls sent me to get you. They’re ready to start the ceremony.”
The earth fell out from under Heath’s feet and his stomach plummeted along with it. Luckily, his buddies were there to keep him upright if he fell. After a few deep breaths for courage, the trio made their way to the doors of the ballroom and stared inside. The room was packed with guests seated on linen-covered folding chairs and the low murmur of conversation helped steady Heath’s nerves.
Along both sides of the massive room, floor to ceiling Christmas trees lined the walls, spaced about six feet apart. Between them were low tables decorated with garlands and delicate glass ornaments in jewel tones. A white runner stretched down the center of the room to the front of the space, where a dais had been set up for the wedding party to stand on. The minister was there, busying herself with preparations for her readings and the vows. A large arbor had been set up and laced with white and red roses and lilies.
“Ready?” Murphy asked, standing on Heath’s right side.
“Ready,” Daveed said, flanking him on the left.
Heath took a deep breath, then nodded. “Ready.”
They walked down the aisle toward the front of the room and took their places in front of the dais on the right-hand side. The wedding was a small affair, per Aileen’s wishes—about thirty guests and just the guys and their wives as attendants. To distract himself, Heath looked out over the gathered crowd and spotted his father about three rows back from the front, his new wife on his arm. His dad had decided to leave the stress of New York behind and run his company remotely from his new ranch in Wyoming. The laid-back lifestyle seemed to suit him, given his deep tan and relaxed demeanor. Of course, the twenty-something, supermodel trophy spouse clinging to his arm probably didn’t hurt either. Heathcliff, Sr. caught his son’s eye and raised a hand in greeting. Heath waved back and smiled.
On the bride’s side of the room, amongst friends and fellow journalists, sat Aileen’s boss from The Globe. Aileen had been a bit on edge lately because the guy kept bugging her to cash in on some of Heath’s connections and score an interview with Senator Lawrence, who was currently serving a two-year sentence in a white-collar prison in upstate New York. Seemed Lawrence had sold rights to his memoirs to the highest bidding publisher to raise money for his legal fund to fight the fraud charges against him. Aileen had been adamant about not wanting to speak to Milford Lawrence again, no matter how big the scoop. In fact, lately, she’d been talking about getting out of the newspaper business entirely and trying her hand at fiction writing. Heath would support her no matter what she chose. He’d told her that and earned a nice long kiss in return.
In the front row on the bride’s side sat Fiona and Devon MacLean, the elderly couple who had helped Aileen when she’d first come to New York and the reason she’d gone undercover in the first place. In a way, Heath supposed, they’d brought him and Aileen together and he’d grown just as fond of them in the past year as Aileen was. They were sort of his surrogate parents now too, especially with his dad gone.
“Look sharp, buddy,” Murphy said, elbowing him in the side. “They’re ready to start.”
Heath looked down the long white center aisle and spotted his bride at the entrance. His breath caught and his heart stuttered. Not from nerves this time but from the sheer beauty of Aileen. She’d been sure to keep her dress a secret from him up to this point, citing traditions and old wives’ tales and some such nonsense. But now… Wow!
He swallowed hard as the string quartet he’d hired to perform the music began Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major. Mel started down the aisle first, followed by a gently-rounded Shayma. Both women glowed with excitement and only had eyes for their men.
Finally, the minister gestured and the guests rose and the string quartet switched to the traditional Wedding March. Heath couldn’t take his eyes off Aileen. In her strapless, mermaid style gown of flowing white lace and shimmering beads, she looked like his every fantasy come to life. All he’d ever wanted and nothing he deserved. A little bit of heaven right here on earth.
Her amber gaze remained locked on his the entire way down the aisle until she stood by him at last. She handed off her bouquet of flowers—matching to the ones draped over the arbor, of course—then linked arms with Heath.
As they stepped up onto the dais, Aileen leaned in and whispered, “You look so hot.”
Warmth tingled through him from the compliment, chasing away the chill of his earlier nerves. “And you look incredibly gorgeous, darling.”
Pretty pink color stained her cheeks and the diamond tiara—a family heirloom passed down from Heath’s grandmother to him and kept in trust until this special day—twinkled in her midnight black hair.
The ceremony passed in a blur. He vaguely remembered being asked questions and he must’ve answered them correctly because next thing he knew he was sliding a ring on Aileen’s finger and she was doing the same to him, both while reciting the vows they’d chosen. Finally, the minister pronounced them man and wife and a cheer rose
up from the guests as he swept Aileen into his arms and kissed her deeply.
By the time they separated, the guys were shaking Heath’s hand and smacking him on the back in congratulations and the girls were hugging Aileen. The guests began to file out of the room to head down the hall to another adjoining ballroom where the reception was set up.
Once the room had cleared, Heath stepped down off the dais and extended his hand to Aileen. “Ready to join our guests next door?”
She smiled and stepped down beside him. “I am. But first…”
Aileen turned to face him and cupped his cheeks. “Did I mention you looked hot in that tux, all disheveled and sexy?”
“You did.” He grinned, sliding his arms around her waist to pull her closer. “Then again, you requested it, so I could hardly disappoint my wife on her special day.”
