She swallowed and prayed the torrent of tears waiting to fall held back a little longer.
“I love that you’re you. I love that you’re my destiny. I love that you’re my daughter’s mother. I love the way you love and how your first thought is always positive.” He gently squeezed her hand. “And I love that you’re willing to stand there, after everything that’s happened, and take my hand in front of our families.”
A single tear escaped and slid down her cheek. She didn’t care if her makeup got messed up. All she cared about was the wonderful man gazing up at her with love and eternity shining in his eyes.
“Summer Leigh Warren, I adore you.”
He kissed her hand and let it go to reach into his pocket. Holding up a ring she couldn’t see through her tears, he asked the big question.
“Sunshine girl, will you marry me?”
Nodding, she gasped for breath as her emotions broke. He slid the ring on. It was a perfect fit. He kissed it to seal the deal.
“This was my mother’s ring,” he told her with hushed reverence. “She’d want you to have it.”
He started to get up, but she sank to her knees and fell into his arms.
They knelt, clinging to each other. She cried. So did he.
What they almost lost no longer haunted her. The fates had a little fun at their expense, but they came through it with their love intact and a glorious future opening up before them.
He helped her up like a gentleman, shared his handkerchief, and then turned to the people watching.
“She said yes. Can you believe it?”
“Actually, Arnie,” Dottie chirped in a gleefully snarky tone. “There wasn’t a yes. She nodded, and you assumed.”
Summer rocked back in her heels and exploded with laughter. “She’s right! Bwah ha ha!”
“Woman,” Arnie playfully snarled, “what have you to say?”
“Yes,” she hooted. “Y-e-s.”
He picked her up. Her dress billowed around them as he swung her.
Dottie filmed the whole thing.
Reed brought the baby to them. He congratulated her with a warm hug and a kiss. He soberly shook Arnie’s hand. “Well done.”
“This calls for champagne,” Senior announced with obvious glee. He popped the cork on the ginormous bottle and filled the glasses.
“I suppose a few sips won’t hurt,” she said out loud.
Arnie smiled into her eyes. “By the way, the champagne?”
She nodded. “Yeah?”
“I got the magnum bottle in your honor.”
Oh yeah, they were definitely headed for a custom-made happily ever after.
Stan made the first toast. “To Summer and Arnie. May your love remain as beautiful as the baby girl you made together, and may your lives be forever filled with laughter, good times, and family.”
“Seconded,” Reed said.
As a chorus of good wishes floated into the air on a glorious winter evening in Montecito, Summer, Arnie, and Arianne stepped into the future surrounded by love and family.
It couldn’t get any better than this.
The End.
Epilogue
Arnie looked up when Dottie came through the door lugging a large binder and dragging a rolling file cart behind her. He was in the family room, looking at a formal business plan for Aloha Designs. A real one this time. Not something made up on the spur-of-the-moment for an undercover scheme.
She stomped up to him and slammed the binder onto the game table where he and Summer had taken to playing cards with Darnell Senior and his therapist-gal pal, Bethany.
Nine days had passed since he and Summer got engaged. Nine fantastic, blissful days. Every morning, he woke up excited to meet a new day, and each night, he had the unbelievable good fortune to fall asleep with the love of his life, safe in his arms. And Arianne. My god. She was everything to them. He’d never forget these special days when the rest of the world was on hold. The family bonding time they were enjoying was precious.
But the hold was coming to an end—or rather a screeching halt, all because he absolutely insisted they marry immediately. And when he demanded the wedding take place straightaway, he wasn’t fucking kidding.
“What are you wearing?” he asked her.
“It’s a jumpsuit,” she bit back. “Straight from your aunt’s shop.”
Yesterday, on a whim, Dottie whisked Summer off to Los Angeles for a shopping spree. Giving Quickie access to a charter helicopter was asking for trouble. She took gleeful delight in it and made the most of the pricey perk.
He scratched his nose and canted slightly to the left for a better view. What she usually wore wasn’t anything close to what she had on. It wasn’t so much the wide-legged, long-sleeve slinky jumpsuit or the elaborate metal belt; it was the open-toed platform shoes. Dottie rolled for comfort and practicality. She was far likelier to rock a pair of Adidas or even tactical boots than designer-looking footwear.
“I thought the plan was shopping on Rodeo Drive.”
“Well, that was my preference, but your fiancée declared most of what we found to be old-school. In case you’ve forgotten, your relationship doesn’t sink to cradle-robbing, but you can’t pretend a playground wasn’t involved.”
“Did you just waste two dozen words reminding me I’m old?”
Dottie grinned. “I did! Summer insisted we check out West Hollywood and drop by Lou’s shop.”
This was news to him. A smile broke loose inside and spread to his face. In the aftermath of their engagement, it took his sunshine lady a day or two to find her footing, but once she did, holy cow. He wasn’t sure why or how, but Summer’s initial resistance to the money issue evaporated in the blink of an eye. She still planned to clip coupons and look for the best deal, but one perk of marrying a very wealthy guy was her new ability to indulge in gift giving. Summer loved people, and she was down for spending money if someone else was the recipient, and since buying shit for others usually led to personal purchases, he was here for it.
“And with Lou, being Lou,” Dottie continued, “she wouldn’t let Summer buy knockoffs for herself. I almost wet my pants when that crazy aunt of yours took Summer aside and explained why it was her duty to burn through as much Wanamaker cash as she could manage.”
He chuckled, imagining the scene. Aunt Lou was a piece of work, and he loved her the way a kid cherished a shiny penny. She was eccentric and had quirks out the wazoo. In a way, he met Summer because of his aunt’s atrocious taste in footwear.
“There’s a tea service coming your way. Not a wedding present. Lou called it a housewarming.”
“She’s the only person who had a true dog in the fight over Rose Hill. I don’t need to know the particulars, but you can bank on Senior having given her first right of refusal. There’s no way he’d just give me the family estate on a whim.”
“Oh lord.” She laughed. “Can you imagine that beautiful house and property under her control? She’d turn it into a boho amusement park. There’d be a Ferris wheel in the courtyard, and the formal dining room would get made over with a Mad Hatter’s tea party vibe.”
They cracked up. Every word Dottie said was accurate.
“So did my fiancée get everything she needed? When you guys came back, all she had with her was a tiny bag.”
Dottie arched a brow and fixed him with a look. He felt the blush start in his feet and shoot onto his face. How stupid was he? Pretty goddamn stupid. She probably knew all about the itty-bitty bag.
He gulped, remembering his hot bride-to-be removing identical fire engine red G-strings from the bag, holding them up, one dangling from each hand, and informing him one pair was for him and his big paws to rip to shreds and the other to always remind him how much of a beast he could be.
His flaming red face gave Dottie the reaction she wanted. Crowding way too close, she pinched his cheek as if he was a five-year-old and gave him a playful smack.
“She enjoyed flashing the platinum card.”
<
br /> “That’s good, right?”
Dottie gave him a pitying look. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Idea?”
“Between the cost of Summer’s trousseau and what you’re spending on the wedding, I’d say your net worth took a little nosedive.”
He had to look up what a trousseau even was after Summer kept using the word. It was an old-fashioned term having something to do with what a bride brings to the marriage. When he tried to point out Ari was enough, she got all annoyed and pouted. Did he make love to her in an effort to put a smile back on her face?
One hundred.
“I told you, don’t worry about the cost.”
“Oh, I’m not.” She cackled with far too much delight. “Just pointing out how much you’re about to drop. Anyway, let’s get down to business. The thirteenth will be here before you know it, and we’ve still got details to pin down.”
She made quite a production of paging through the ginormous binder, picking a tab, and then slamming it open with a thud.
Her words came at a thousand miles an hour. He shifted on his seat and tried to follow along. Kicking the chair next to his, he snarled, “Can you sit down? It makes me nervous when you hover.”
Her huff was loud and unambiguous, but she lowered onto the chair with objection rolling off her in waves.
“Your grandfather missed his calling,” she began. “He should coulda been a top-notch party planner.”
A flash visual of Darnell Senior as a party planner left him grinning.
She winked. “Senior gave Benjamin Waterston a nudge. Stan’s suggestion was brilliant! Turns out, the Malibu estate wasn’t just available for rental, it was already empty following a six-week movie location shoot.”
“I know, Dottie. You’ve told me this a couple of times. The estate is wedding perfect. That’s what you said.”
“Yes, well, I’m glad you remembered.” She pointed at a page in the binder showing the estate’s interior layout. “I’ve made zones to accommodate our needs. The bride and her attendants have three suites. You get a closet.”
He sniggered because if he knew Dottie at all, she was serious.
“The wedding guests are all coming from out of town so the middle of the downstairs is for them to gather.”
Dottie was a logistics genius. Coordinating people, locations, and equipment was a useful skill she acquired during her years of government service.
If she missed something or was ignoring an important detail, he wouldn’t know. Weddings were like State dinners. Nothing could be left to chance and he just wasn’t that guy. All he focused on was making sure Summer got the wedding she wanted.
“Did you line up the catering?” His mind started ticking off the long list of wedding details in his head. “And the photographer? You booked Walt, right?”
“Easy, recruit. Don’t blow a fuse. I’ve got this. Lynda Gerry is in charge of the photographer. Her friend is chomping at the bit to get there and start taking background shots. Since they’re right there in Sherman Oaks, it’s nothing to drive out to Malibu. They’ll be the first to arrive. Tomorrow, in fact.”
“And when does everyone else arrive?”
“The NIGHTWIND jet is due to land this hour. They rented a huge house. Ten bedrooms. Avery and I have a fancy suite at Shutters in Santa Monica. He’s multitasking.” She chuckled. “Touching base with some of his Marine buddies.”
Arnie reeled back his demand to know everything. The logistics nightmare of transporting a hundred people from one coast to the other made him unnecessarily anxious. As long as he made his wishes clear and so did Summer, Dottie and his father would move heaven and earth to give them everything on their unconventional wish list.
He couldn’t help asking one more direct question. “And the music? Is that under control?”
“Ah, the music,” Dottie murmured. “I love a challenge. Lorelai weighed in. Considering what you’re asking for, her celebrity DJ suggestion was brilliant. I’m having a back and forth with Sasha and Beckett. They’re definitely interested.”
He started wide-eyed and slack-jawed. “Wait. Do you mean Sasha and Beckett from Surrender Hope?”
Surrender Hope was the latest cable series to take the TV wars by storm. When he was deciding on a Halloween costume back in October, he considered dressing as Ryland Whyffe, the half-man, half-wolf character played by English actor, Beckett.
One-name celebrities were so Hollywood.
“That would be epic,” he drawled. “Do you think the celebrity duo as our wedding DJs will make Summer happy?”
She laughed and laughed. He frowned, trying to figure out what was so damn funny.
“Well, Arnie, considering who the bridesmaids are, I wager the paparazzi targets masquerading as DJs are in for quite a surprise. Summer will either laugh with the rest of us, or she’ll question your sanity.”
She had a point. He grinned. Yep, yep. This was gearing up to be one hell of an occasion.
“Wait, wait,” Summer implored through a wheezing cackle of laughter. “He told you he had bionic balls?”
She couldn’t help the waves of hilarity crashing into her. Video chatting with the ladies of NIGHTWIND was like all the best amusement park thrill rides rolled into one with a team of comedians offering commentary. If she didn’t get control soon, there was a real likelihood of peeing her pants.
Dawn Maddison made it very clear she thoroughly enjoyed Arnie—the way a sister enjoys a brother. She found his grinning cocky charm endearing. Dawn’s partner in wifely antics done NIGHTWIND style was Lorelai Weston. Both ladies were newlywed and pregnant.
Lorelai sat forward and got closer to their laptop’s camera. She flashed her pearly whites and winked. Summer liked her mischievous vibe.
“Your fella is a shameless flirt.” Lorelai chuckled.
Dawn squawked, “Lola! Don’t tell her that. What if she believes you?”
Summer gave them a farcical grin and acted put out when she responded. “Relax, ladies. He’s adorably oblivious to his effect on the opposite sex. I didn’t get it at first, but now I do. His inner voice is an awkward geek. For reasons I’ll never understand, he doesn’t realize how hot he is.”
Dawn and Lorelai laughed and slapped palms. “It must be a NIGHTWIND thing because King is likewise unaware, and Jon, well, he’s just blind as a dingbat. Probably a good thing because we don’t seem like the type who’d put up with a wandering eye.”
Word. If Arnie ever so much as looked twice at someone else, she’d have to turn homicidal.
“I can’t wait to actually meet you guys,” she gushed. “It’s gonna be so cool to finally have sisters.”
“We’re so bummed we can’t do the bridesmaid thing for you, Summer.” Lorelai looked like she might cry. “Dawn’s too pregnant, and I’m having some issues. My doctor wants me off my feet as much as possible.”
Anxiety pinged her emotions. Summer didn’t like what she just heard.
“Is everything okay?”
Dawn smiled. She put an arm around Lorelai. “She’s fine. Not to worry. We share the same OB/GYN. She’s got a bad case of around-the-clock morning sickness.”
“Hyperemesis gravidarum?”
“Exactly,” Dawn murmured and nodded.
“Sucks,” Lorelai snarled. “All day, most days. Jon is beside himself. He manages his stress by cooking,” she explained.
Dawn cut in, “Jon doesn’t just cook. He’s a self-made chef who deserves to have a James Beard award hanging in his home kitchen.”
“Oh, I see,” Summer murmured. “And the smell of food makes your hyperemesis worse?”
Lorelai made a pained face and nodded. “My poor husband.” She then chuckled. “He took over Dawn’s big kitchen to make soup from scratch. And by scratch, I mean starting with a fresh, organically raised chicken.”
“My friend Lynda makes chicken matzo ball soup from scratch. She calls it Jewish penicillin—a recipe from her Bubbe.”
“Oh, how won
derful,” Lorelai exclaimed. “Believe it or not, Jon has a recipe for Cajun-style trinity matzo ball soup. In whatever form it comes, chicken soup really is a tonic for the soul. But not so much for my brand of morning sickness. I felt so bad.”
“And now I have three huge containers of soup in my freezer.” Dawn gestured with her fingers.
Lorelai playfully nudged her friend and made a face. The two laughed, and then Dawn looked into the camera.
“You didn’t get us in your wedding party, but you are getting my kids. Jack is taking his ring bearer job quite seriously. He and King have practiced and everything.” Dawn’s smile stretched across her whole face. “They’re so cute!”
“And then there’s Nic,” Lorelai drawled. “Oh my dear sweet baby Jesus. That little girl loves her some Uncle Arnie. Mm mm mm.”
Dawn giggle-snorted. “True that. Lucky for you, she already knew about you, Summer, or she might not be so welcoming.”
“Knew about me? What do you mean? I don’t understand.”
“That big, ole teddy bear was having tea with my daughter when the subject of Arnie’s love life came up.”
“Excuse me?”
Dawn and Lorelai grinned at the camera.
“That’s right,” Dawn replied. “I was there when they had their tea party. Not with them—I just mean I was home while my precocious preschooler entertained a gentleman caller in her bedroom.”
Lorelai laughed so hard she had to move out of view to blow her nose with loud laughing honks.
“This was pre-wedding for us, and according to Nic’s report of the encounter, she was bitching about wanting King and I to have a baby. Somehow, the topic changed, and while Uncle Arnie expressed his appreciation for dancing, he became sad. Nic asked if he was okay, and he replied with a story about a girl named Summer who lived far away. She named you, Princess Sunflower.”
Summer blinked a few times and squinted at the screen. She shook her head to see if it helped her understand what she was hearing.
Finding Summer (Nightwind Book 3) Page 71
