Closing my hand over hers, I wrap her fingers around the concealer and gently push it away. “I know,” I say softly. “They’re my badge ofhonor.”
A few minutes later, I’m standing outside the door of Cary’s office, shifting from foot to foot, a layer of sweat building between my palm and my bouquet of yellow roses. My gown feels like it weighs a ton, although it’s as simple as it gets. Thin spaghetti straps attach to patterned lace that gradually fades down from mid chest to a straight, sheer skirt. Completely un-Shiloh. Just the way Iwanted.
Cary and I both wanted to have our wedding at the Kincaid Center. It just didn’t seem right to have it anywhere else. It’s this place that brought us back together, and holds so many memories for us. It’s the place we’ve run together three years as a team and left to go home to our apartment together aslovers.
“Last chance to back out, Snowflake,” Frankie says, straightening his tie as I link my arm around his. “I got me some wheels now. We can dip outta here right now and never lookback.”
I squeeze his arm as the music begins to play. “Not on yourlife.”
An obscenely huge smile breaks out across his face. Keeping his eyes forward, he stares down the hallway and gives a quick nod. “That’s all I need tohear.”
We leave the safety of the hallway and enter the open area of the of the Elizabeth Kincaid Community Center. As Frankie walks me down the makeshift aisle, I couldn’t tell you who smiles at me. They’re all just blurry faces in a blurry crowd. All I see ishim.
Cary is standing at the end of the aisle on a small white wooden platform in between the minister and Will. His normally wild, onyx hair is parted on the side and slicked back with just enough escaping to still look dangerous. Upon my insistence, he left his lip ring in, although we argued last night over how appropriate it was for our wedding. I don’t care. It’s him and I love all ofhim.
Here’s the thing. I’ve dated models who have graced billboards and the most sought-after magazine cover in the world. I’ve hadPeople Magazine’sSexiest Men Alive blow up my phone, begging for a second date. However, no man has ever taken my breath away like CaryKincaid.
Even when I refused to seeit.
Once we reach the end, Frankie kisses my cheek and whispers something in my ear. I giggle as he takes my hand and helps me onto the platform and to the man I’m about tomarry.
Cary entwines our fingers, quirking his lips as he runs the pad of his thumb over my blue nail polish. “What did he say toyou?”
“He told me to not let you carry me over the thresholdtonight.”
“Why the hellnot?”
I rock onto my toes, then back onto my heels, biting my lip to keep from laughing. “He said to always walk on my own two feet, otherwise I’ll always end up on myknees.”
His eyes cut to the front row where Frankie sits with a shit-eating grin. “Oh, he did,huh?”
We’re in our own little world until the minister clears his throat. “I’m sorry, but may webegin?”
There’s a rumble of laughter throughout the crowd, and I nod, handing my bouquet to Lena as I take Cary’s hands. We stare into each other’s eyes and repeat the words the minister recites for us. Lena whined when I told her we weren’t writing our own vows, but Cary and I had no desire to declare our love for each other in front of a bunch of people in personal words that aren’t meant for them to hear. Those are words we’ll say to each other tonight and know they’re promises we’ll keep. Because we earned every damn one ofthem.
With rings in place, vows spoken, and prayers said, the minister’s face lights up. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may nowkiss—”
Cary doesn’t wait for him to finish his declaration before scooping me up into his arms and devastating me with a kiss that probably has Bianca fanning herself inhorror.
I’m breathless by the time he slides his mouth from my lips to my ear and whispers in a wicked tone, “I’m carrying you out of here, so you should probably get those knees ready,Starshine.”
When my mouth drops open, Cary laughs and kisses my forehead. Just as he swings me around to face the crowd, the minister loudly announces above cheers and whistles, “I now present to you, Mr. and Mrs. CarrickKincaid.”
Just as he promised, Cary carries me all the way down the aisle and doesn’t put me down until I’m on myknees.
* * *
The clock readsfour o’clock in the morning, but time doesn’t matter much to me. I’ve been wide awake for the past few hours, watching my husband sleep, memorizing his breathing patterns, and loving the way he reaches for me if I shift to far to the edge of themattress.
There’s a full moon tonight, and the brightness of it shines through our bedroom window, highlighting my wedding dress. When we first came home, Cary tore it off and tossed it onto the floor. Not that I minded. The dress was the last thing on mymind.
It’s crazy how women spend so much time, money, and effort picking out one dress that they’ll wear for an hour, then hang in a storage bag for the rest of their lives. It seems crazy when you think about it. It’s not like they’ll ever wear it again. What awaste.
The thought rolls over and over in my head, until I eventually pull the covers back and pick up the dress, running my hands over the silk until I find myself carrying it into the bathroom. I click on the light and before I know what I’m doing, I step intoit.
As I stare at my reflection in the mirror, flashes of a grayish-purple dress, complete with a floor-length tulle skirt and a bodice covered in Australian crystals stares back at me. Tilting my head, I run my fingers across the simple lace neckline, and my beautiful, modest wedding gown comes back into focus, showing me how truly far I’vecome.
I’m not that girlanymore.
