“Hey, they understand. I know they do. Gage told me to tell you that they’re thinking of you and can’t wait to meet the baby.”
“I hope they can stop by before they leave for their honeymoon. If the baby will even be born by then,” I say with an exasperated sigh.
“The baby will be here by then,” Archer says assuredly, leaning over so he’s looking me directly in the eyes. “Have faith, babe. It’s all going to come together. Trust me.”
As I stare into my husband’s eyes, I know I trust him one hundred percent. I’m just tired and scared and eager. Eager for all of this to be over with, so I can hold my child in my arms and welcome him or her into this world.
“Hello.” The obstetrician strides into the room, the tails of his white coat flying behind him as he approaches the bed. “I hear you’re about to have a baby. You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I answer, offering a smile in Archer’s direction.
He smiles in return, handsome despite the circles ringing his eyes and his messy hair. “Me too, babe,” he says, not even looking at the doctor. No, my husband’s gaze is only for me. “Me too.”
Chapter Three
* * *
Gage
I’M NERVOUS. I didn’t think this would happen. I’ve been the cool, easygoing eye of the storm that has been my poor stressed-out fiancée. But now that the moment has come, and I’m standing with Matt by my side, in front of our guests, as we all wait for Marina to make her appearance, I feel like I might faint.
Yeah. Not good.
Locking my knees, I swallow hard and try not to fidget as the music plays. A crisp breeze washes over us, cooling my sweat-dampened forehead, and I give it a subtle swipe, noting that my palms are clammy.
I’m a freaking mess.
“Calm down, dude,” Matt whispers out of the side of his mouth. We’re standing so close our shoulders are practically touching. Wonder if he’d catch me if I fall. “You look like you’re gonna drop.”
“I feel like I’m gonna drop,” I tell him, feeling like an idiot but not really caring. He’s my new best man, so I need him to step it up. If I pass out, it’s on him.
“Your girl is going to make her appearance at any minute.” Matt nods toward the beginning of the aisle where no one stands. Where are the girls? We already made our walk down the aisle, Matt walking Marina’s mom to her seat, me walking my mother.
“Hope she shows up soon,” I mutter, meaning it. I feel antsy. My suit is too tight. My throat is dry. I’m dying for a drink. Preferably booze.
Probably not a good idea.
The flower girl suddenly struts down the aisle, cute as can be in a white lacy gown. Louisa is one of Marina’s cousins. She has about a bazillion of them.
Almost all of them are sitting in the crowd, watching me. Probably pissed because Marina and I both agreed that we didn’t want a huge, ridiculous wedding party. We blew their chance to wear bridesmaids’ gowns.
Then Bryn appears, a freaking vision in pale yellow. She walks down the aisle slowly, a coy smile on her face as she shoots me a glance, then trains her gaze on Matt. As her smile disappears, her eyes widen, and I look at Matt, who’s staring at Bryn like she’s the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen in his life.
Poor dude is straight up in love with Bryn. Like a complete and total goner. I get what he’s feeling.
The music fades and a new song starts—a low, melodic tune played to perfection by the small group of musicians set up off to the right. I straighten my spine, clasp my hands behind my back as I wait for my bride to make her appearance.
And then . . . there she is. Her arm curls around her father’s, who looks respectably intimidating in his tuxedo. A frothy veil covers her face, and the skirt of her gown is wide, nearly as wide as the aisle they’re walking down.
Tears threaten, and I blink once. Hard. Damn it, I’m not going to cry. I’m happy, not sad. But I’m also overwhelmed, filled with love for this woman whose about to become my partner in life.
They approach and stop just before us, turning to each other so her father can lift the veil, revealing her face to me for the first time. He leans in and kisses her cheek as the minister asks who gives this woman to this man, just as we rehearsed yesterday. Her father says I do, his deep voice a little shaky and my sympathy goes out to him.
I’m still feeling pretty shaky myself.
Marina steps up to stand beside me, and I take her hand, unable to stop from leaning in and brushing a quick kiss against her cheek. “You look beautiful,” I murmur, my voice just as shaky as her dad’s.
But I don’t care. I have no shame. I’m getting married, damn it. I’m allowed to cry. To smile. To laugh. I’m making this woman mine.
Forever.
Marina
WE STOP AT the beginning of the aisle, waiting for the cue from the music. Dad lays his hand over mine and gives it a squeeze. “You look beautiful, Marina. Your mom and I are so proud of you.”
I nod, not trusting my voice. I’m afraid I’ll start crying, and I don’t want to do that. Not yet.
“I’m going to have a talk with Gage. Tell him he better treat you right or he’ll have to answer to me,” Dad continues.
“Oh, Daddy.” My voice cracks, and I press my lips together for a brief moment to keep the sob in. Once I have it under control, I whisper, “He loves me. I know he does.”
“I know he does too, princess.” Dad pats my hand just as the music gets louder. “That’s our sign, sweetheart. Let’s do this.”
I let Dad lead me down the aisle toward Gage. He looks so handsome, the sun shining down on him, making his dark hair glint. He smiles when our eyes meet, though I know he can hardly see me through the veil.
That was the plan. I wanted to draw it out. Make him anticipate me.
When Dad lifts the veil and kisses me, I see the way Gage’s eyes widen, the sheen of tears in their depths. Oh God, if he’s going to cry, I’m definitely going to cry, and I don’t know if I can take this.
Dad hands me over to Gage, and I take my place beside him, surprised when he drops a kiss on my cheek.
“You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice trembling. My heart skips at his words and the sincerity behind them, the love shining in his eyes.
“So do you,” I say, because he does. My groom is gorgeous in his tux, his hair perfect, his expression nervous. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He brings our clutched hands to his mouth and kisses my knuckles, earning a disapproving noise from the minister that makes us both smile.