“She’s outside,” I said to John.
“Wait for her, brother.” He pushed his hand against my shoulder.
I shoved his arm aside and headed down the aisle between the rows of questioning faces. I glared at those faces with their silent offensive inquiries as I walked past. Elle was more than I deserved, and they all knew it. Were they wondering if she had backed out on me?
I knew that she had not.
I broke through the pair of wooden doors and found her waiting for me. My breath caught. I was remotely aware of Thomas coming towards me and my mother, the children, and our guests filing out of the church behind me.
My angel sat on top of a majestic gray horse. She was wearing a white fur cloak over her wedding gown, its fullness draping beautifully round her body, hiding everything from me except for her gloved hands and her face.
The remaining leaves on our wishing oak fluttered in the cold wind. Fallen leaves crunched beneath my shoes. White ribbons swayed from the branches as large snowflakes fell lazily from above and floated round the church garden. The first of the season. Maybe the last. One snowflake landed on the tip of Elle’s nose and another on her bottom lip. Envy gripped me. I wanted to be the one kissing her there.
She removed the fur hood from her pretty head and locked her gaze into mine. Her jewel-encrusted wedding tiara shined brilliantly, but that wasn’t the beauty that captivated me. It was her perfect smile. A striking combination of mischief and innocence marked her lips and her eyes and stabbed me in the heart, leaving scars there and on my brain.
Elle’s words ended the silence. “Marry me, Will.”
As she reached for me with both arms, daring to fall from the horse’s back into my arms, a sense of calm washed over me. Like those fucking snowflakes, that peaceful moment deep within me was unexpected. I didn’t know how to make it last. Didn’t know how to capture it and preserve it. It hit me then. Only one thing mattered, and it wasn’t how to manage my own heart but rather what I would do to protect hers.
I caught her in my arms, but before her feet touched the ground, I kissed her lips.
“Nothing could stop me, baby. I’m going to marry you right here, right fucking now.”
“Can’t wait,” she whispered.
3
Will
Wedding Night
Our wedding reception was a lovely blend of dinner, dancing, and caroling. It had been Elle’s idea to get
married on Christmas Eve. The woman who was the absolute center of my world preferred to avoid being the center of anything else, so she used the holiday season as a buffer to alleviate her discomfort. I rolled with it because all that mattered to me was giving her whatever she wanted.
Elle’s plan failed just as I knew it would. My beautiful wife’s soul would always be the most brilliant light in every room, on every occasion, in every season.
I watched her while throwing back another double shot of whisky. She stood several feet away from me in the center of the great hall, talking and laughing with Jessica and another young woman who was from the fashion house where her wedding gowns had been made.
Elle held a glass of champagne and Lissie’s hand. Her eyes sparkled as she raised the crystal flute to her lips for a sip of her favorite vintage. Lissie’s small face was beaming with curious wonder as she watched, her quiet exhilaration making it seem as if she’d fallen through a looking glass into an enchanting new world.
“Ease up, mate. You’re going to burn a hole through her with that stare.” Ben Scott was my best friend, and he could read me better than most. “Jess said Ellie’s anxiety is well in hand. There’s no doubt you’ve made her happy today. It’s quite clear that she’s in love with you.”
It wasn’t that, I told him. I knew that she loved me, and I understood the gifts she had given me, the sacrifices she had made to spend her life with me.
“The lies, the worry, your new business plans . . . all that shit will still be there in a few days. So, as your third best man, I demand you let it all go for now.”
I grinned. “Fuck you, Scott. You know my brothers always come first.”
It was rare for Ben to use humor since losing his wife three years earlier. But he was involved with Jessica now, and her fondness for humor and sarcasm was beginning to influence him. It was good to see him lighten up.
He gripped my shoulder and flashed a smile. “Go on, then. Take your bride upstairs.”
As if prompted by Ben’s words, the string quartet started another set, transforming one of Elle’s favorite love songs into an intimate musical ballad.
I put down my empty glass and closed the distance between my wife and me.
Restraining my desire and not hauling her against my body was a difficult undertaking. I needed the rush that pulsed through my blood when we connected, when she became part of me. At the mere thought of touching her, my cock hardened. I resisted, though, straightening my arms at my sides to give her one last opportunity to choose me before I took everything and possessed all of her.