Malena did an awesome job. But I think most of this wedding came together because of the small town of Bronze Bay. They drop everything to help one of their own, and the fact is we didn’t want anything fancy.
The band came from the next town over and we have the restaurant hook up already. I’m wearing my uniform, and Caroline’s dress is a remake of her mother’s that the town seamstress updated for this decade. For something so impossible, it came together effortlessly, like this was how it was always supposed to happen.
My buddies shout out from the corner bar when the band starts the familiar twang of our song. She wraps her hands around my neck and presses her lips into a thin line. Someone is clinking their glasses, signaling they want us to kiss. I lean down and give her a chaste peck and she narrows her eyes.
I laugh. “We can’t give them too much. That’s ours, remember? After we finish up here?”
The reminder sets her on fire. I know what to say and it thrills me to no end. “Mrs. Holiday.”
“I’m like Mrs. Claus now,” Caroline jokes.
I lean over and lean into her ear. “Ho. Ho. Ho.”
She gasps. “You’re Mr. Holiday, tonight.”
I swallow hard. “You’re my wife. Thank you, Caroline. Thank you.”
The music slows. “Thank you for loving me.”
“I never had a choice in that,” I reply. “First, I took over the beach. The one you took your first steps on. Then I took over your airport. The one your family owns. The next logical step was to love you. For the rest of my life.”
Holding her face with my left hand, I hope she feels the platinum band rest on her cheekbone. “You’re so suave sometimes,” she says. Resting the side of her face on my chest, she stays that way for a few moments.
“Sometimes?” I mock. “I feel like you’re shortchanging me.”
“All the time. Fine. When you’re not being silent and stoic, that is.”
“That’s a defense mechanism,” I argue. “It’s how I try not to fall in love.”
“Remind me of that when you’re being stoic with your friends,” she says, smirking.
I laugh. “You’re feeling frisky tonight.”
“In more ways than one.”
I glance at my watch. “Not long now,” I soothe. Rubbing her exposed back.
The moment crystalizes as my time in Bronze Bay comes together. The utter awful feeling of being sent to a satellite base, to the sheer joy of exploring the small town, to falling in love. With not just Caroline May, but with this this place, my new home. The people surrounding us have played a part in our relationship in some form. My buddies from San Diego flew in for the occasion, and seeing them and their wives gives me more than hope, it gives me proof that real love survives anything.
It has to.
Because I won’t survive without her.
Not without her friendship, and surely not without the commitment we made today.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Caroline
The suite in the Inn is something out of my wildest dreams. One of his friends from San Diego stopped him in the hall. Several of them are staying here tonight. We had the extra space so it was perfect, even if right now, it’s inconvenient. They were bro hugging and talking about something related to guns and bad guys, so I smiled politely and took my leave. This isn’t the room that Tahoe was staying in when he asked me to marry him, this is a few rooms that were renovated into a gargantuan room that overlooks the bay. It was far later than we wanted it to be when our guests started dispersing, so the late hour lends a blueish tint to everything it hits.
The ceremony was beautifully simple. We exchanged vows on the dock. I teared up, and staying true to character, Tahoe was serene and well spoken. There were cheers, and wild shouts when we kissed, and for that one second, all was right in our world. There was nothing on my mind but the love we shared. My cheeks, honest to goodness, hurt from smiling so much. We finally snuck away when the rental company arrived to tear down the big, white tents. Now there’s electricity running through my veins where blood once raced. I’m buzzing with excitement and anticipation—the anxiety I feel at finally knowing what it feels like to have Tahoe in all ways.
There are white candles scattered everywhere. White lilies are in vases, covering every surface, even a few bouquets in large displays on the floor next to the arched window. It takes my breath away. It’s so eloquent. It’s so special. But I knew he wouldn’t treat this any other way, not after all we went through to keep this moment intact.
I sense rather than hear, when he’s behind me in the doorway. “What do you think? Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect, Tahoe. I can’t believe you did all this for me.”
