He staggered to the bathroom door and found Gray trying to put the wrong leg on the wrong stump.
“You dumbass,” he chided. “Should I call Jules to come get you?”
“No!” whimpered Gray. “She beats me!”
“She will today, you dumb grunt.”
He hauled Gray into a sitting position and helped him get his legs on right. Then he called Jules who turned out to be just five doors down the hall. If I’d thought about it last night, I might have remembered that.
Two minutes later, Jules knocked on the door, looking fresh and angelic in a pale pink summer dress.
She took one look at Gray, who might have hoped for sympathy, then gave him a bawling out that had me and Jack retreating to the balcony to give them some privacy.
“Is that what you’re going to be like when we’re married?” he asked, looking worried.
“Yep, it’s in the manual. Shoulda read the small print.”
There’s nothing like someone else’s hangover to make you feel chipper, I thought, smiling at my poor wounded soldier.
Then the shouts died away and the sounds of murmured endearments followed as the door slammed behind them.
“Can I get an aspirin now?” Jack begged, feeling sorry for himself.
“Sure,” I said cheerfully. “In your own bathroom. You’re not supposed to see me before our wedding, so get your cute lil ass moving, Marine!”
Muttering to himself, but not able to stop a smile creeping over his full lips, he staggered to the door.
“Meet you at the altar, Sarge!” I called after him. “I’ll be the one in white!”
I had a leisurely breakfast sitting out on the balcony, staring at the ocean. Despite what I’d said to the guys, I could only tolerate a couple of pieces of dry toast and a lot of weak tea.
I was so nervous, my stomach swooped and lurched as if I was on a funfair ride, and my hands felt cold and clammy.
I wanted to marry Jack, but I was less sure about marrying into the Marines. I also knew I couldn’t have one without the other.
I wanted my mom. I badly wanted to talk to her, to have her love and quiet wisdom. And even though my dear friend Marc was walking me down the aisle, I wished and wished it was my father.
Tears were always close to the surface when I thought about my parents, but my sadness was interrupted by a knock at the door.
I opened it to find Evelyn standing there, looking beautiful and serene in a blue silk skirt suit.
“Hello, Maggie darling,” she said warmly. “Ready to marry my son?”
I nodded and wiped my eyes.
“Oh honey! What’s wrong? You . . . you’re not having second thoughts, are you?”
“No,” I sniffed, trying to find a tissue. “I just wish my mom and dad . . .”
She wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly.
“You want your parents here, of course you do. Oh sweetheart, I know how hard it is. I’d give anything for Jack’s father to be here. He’d have loved you so very much.”
Then she reached into her purse for a tissue.
“Sugar lumps! I promised myself I wouldn’t cry this early in the morning,” she murmured.
Snorting, laughing and crying, we dabbed our eyes and sat on the balcony, Evelyn in the shade while I soaked up some winter sun.
She leaned forward to take my hand.
“Let me just say this and I promise I won’t mention it again . . .”
“Okay . . . ?”
“When I first met you, I wasn’t sure about this. I liked you, but I didn’t think you were right for Jack.”
I sucked in a sudden breath and tried to pull my hand free.
“No, hear me out. I knew that he was in love with you, any fool could see that, and I knew that you cared for him. But you’ve turned your life inside out and upside down to be with my boy, and that tells me everything I need to know. I admit, I was very wrong. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him smile so often or be so truly happy, and that’s down to you. I hate the term mother-in-law; I always think it sounds like someone you’d want to arrest. But . . . I’ll be proud to be your mother-in-law. And although I can never replace your own dear mother . . . if you feel you’d like to . . . I’d be honored if you’d consider me to be your mama, too.”
She squeezed my hand tightly as tears burned behind my eyes.
“Oh my dear,” she said. “We’ll both be needing waterproof mascara!”
Another knock on the door proved to be the hair and makeup team that Lucy had insisted was necessary.
Realizing I was in danger of running late, I threw myself in the shower, shaved my legs carefully, and moisturized every inch of flesh. Then I wrapped myself in an enormous fluffy robe and let Carrie and Shelby get to work.
Shelby slapped on something cooling to take the puffiness out of my eyes, dabbed a silky foundation cream over my cheeks, chin and nose, then gave me subtle, smoky eyes and glistening lips. Carrie curled my hair, weaving in a corsage made up of tiny white rosebuds and a silvery feather that I adored.
Allison, Lucy, Lee and Jules arrived looking gorgeous, Lucy wearing a pale apricot bridesmaid’s dress that suited her peaches and cream complexion.
While I slid between the folds of my satin dress, the others opened a bottle of champagne, promising a couple of glasses would calm my nerves.
“How was Gray when you left him?” I called from the bedroom.
“Upright, front and center,” Jules smirked. “He knows he’ll be in the dog house if I hear so much of a whimper out of him today. Tough love!”
“Sebastian was suffering as well this morning,” smiled Lee. “He swore blind that all they did was have a few drinks with the guys from Jack’s platoon. He did have trouble explaining why a red leather thong had been slipped into his jeans pocket and a phone number from someone named ‘Ginger’. I left him sweating.”
We all laughed.
“Not going there! I’ll be a happy woman if Jack never finds out about me shimmying on stage with Carlton the Cowboy.”
“He had a great body,” sighed Lucy.
“Jack’s is better!”
“Ugh! Don’t talk about my brother like that!”
Then I stepped out of the bedroom and Evelyn started to cry again.
“Oh, Maggie! You look so beautiful! Even more beautiful, honey!”
“You sure scrub up nice, boss!” smiled Allison as her voice cracked.
I stared at myself in the full length mirror, shocked to see a bride staring back at me.
Nothing would ever be the same again.
MY WHITE SATIN dress is floor-length, sleeveless, and with a scooped neckline. Tiny seed pearls have been sewn onto the bodice in the shape of miniature rosebuds, matching the corsage in my hair. I hold a bouquet of white and apricot roses, smiling at the happiness I see in my reflection.
“Jackson is gonna bust a gut!” Lucy whispers, dabbing at her eyes. “Oh my God, you’ll make such pretty babies!”
“Hush,” says Evelyn, watching me out of the corner of her eye as I blush. “No one has said anything about babies.”
I smile at them, but don’t speak. That is a bridge for Jack and I to cross in the future. But not very far in the future.
Everyone starts squawking when another knock raps on the door. The others hurry to find purses and fix their lipstick while I take one final gulp of champagne.
Marc is standing at the door, looking handsome in a tailored black tux with a dark apricot cummerbund and matching bowtie.
He takes my hand and kisses the knuckles gently
“You looking stunning, ma chère. I will be most proud to escort you to your waiting bridegroom.”
Then he lowers his voice.
“It was heaven and hell being surrounded by so many beautiful men last night,” he confides. “I can’t wait to do it again tonight.”
I laugh as he kisses me on the cheek.
“And I have a gift from your divine Jackson.”
“Oh! Oh, it’s beautiful!”
Reverently, Marc pins it to my dress. My husband-to-be is a Marine, and I truly am marrying into the Corps.
Then arm in arm, we sweep out of the room.
Two limousines carry us to the Marine Memorial Chapel at Oceanside, where Jack is waiting for me.
As I climb carefully from the car, my bridesmaid and maids of honor crowd around me, smoothing the wrinkles in my dress, drawing out the small train. Wishing me luck, Allison, Evelyn and Lee tiptoe inside the church, while Lucy stands breathless behind me.
“Are you okay, chérie?” Marc whispers, unnerved by my silence and pallor. “The car is still here . . .”
I turn to him and smile, squeezing his hand.
“No, I’m ready.”
I take his arm, longing to see Jackson. The few hours we’ve been apart have been too long.
The music begins, stately, formal, but joyous too, and slowly, we walk up the aisle. I know our friends are watching us, but I have eyes only for Jack.
He stands at the altar, tall and proud, his eyes matching the dark blue of his uniform, his smile as bright as the sun pouring through the stained glass windows.
There is no doubt, no fear, no shadow of uncertainty, only the complete knowledge that ahead of me stands the man with whom I will spend the rest of my life.
It’s all there, shimmering in a beautiful future: a family, a home filled with children, working for something I believe in, Jack and I growing old together, living our lives shoulder to shoulder as we walk into eternity together.
Our story started in the churning yellow dust of an Afghan village and somehow, against all the odds, with shared scars of life’s battles, it has led us here, to this moment. This perfect, wonderful moment.
But it isn’t an ending, it’s a beginning. Today, our wedding day, our story is truly starting.
My lips tremble as Marc places my hand in Jack’s. I see tears of joy glistening on his long lashes and I know that our love will last a lifetime.
Jack, my Jack. My lover, my friend, my confidante, the love of my life, and soon, very soon, my husband.
THE END
I really hope that you enjoyed Jack and Maggie’s journey—it turned out to be a longer short story than I’d expected! Originally, the first chapter was a short story, but so many of you said that you wanted more, I couldn’t refuse. Not that I tried very hard, because Jack and Maggie had found their way into my heart, too.
Reviews are love! Honestly, they are! But it also helps other people to make an informed decision before buying this book.
So I’d really appreciate if you took a few seconds to do just that at the following link www.amazon.com. xx
Thank you!
The Education Series
An epic love story spanning the years, through war zones and more . . .
The Education of Sebastian (Education series #1)
The Education of Caroline (Education series #2)
The Education of Sebastian & Caroline (combined edition, books 1 & 2)
Semper Fi: The Education of Caroline (Education series #3)
The Traveling Series
All the fun of the fair . . . and two worlds collide
The Traveling Man (Traveling series #1)
The Traveling Woman (Traveling series #2)
Roustabout (Traveling series #3)
Carnival (Traveling series #4) coming soon
The Traveling Series (Boxed Set 1–3)
The Rhythm Series
Blood, sweat, tears and dance
Slave to the Rhythm (Rhythm series #1)
Luka (Rhythm series #2)
For standalone titles, click here
“Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none”—this is one of my favourite sayings. Oh, and ‘Be Nice!’ That’s another. Or maybe, ‘Where’s the chocolate?’
I get asked where my ideas come from—they come from everywhere. From walks with my dog on the beach, from listening to conversations in pubs and shops, where I lurk unnoticed with my notebook. And of course, ideas come from things I’ve seen or read, places I’ve been and people I meet.
Jackson Connor is a fictional character but some of the things he went through as a Marine are not. That’s why I support these charities:
www.felixfund.org.uk—the UK Bomb Disposal Charity
www.eodwarrriorfoundation.org—the US Bomb Disposal Charity
www.nowzad.com—helping servicemen and women rescue stray and abandoned animals in former and current warzones
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If I truly had to ask everyone who’s ever helped me, I’d have to start with thanking my parents for reading to me a lot of years back, my kindergarten teacher Mrs. Peck and . . . well, you get the picture.
Wanting to write, being a writer, it’s a lifelong lesson, and one that I’m still learning. But there are a number of people who have helped guide and sculpt this book. So I’ll start with these women, all amazing in their own rights, all different, all supportive.
To Kirsten Olsen, friend, confidant, editor, whose support and judgement never fails me.
To Sheena Lumsden for many things, but most of all, unwavering friendship.
To Trina Miciotta for her editing, friendship and support. Why do you know so many hot models?
To Neda Amini of Ardent Prose for coordinating book launches and so much more.
To Sybil Wilson, Pop Kitty Designs for her cover artwork. Thank you for being prepared to try so many things to match the picture I had in my mind. You’re fab!
To Amélie White Vahlé, who came up with some lovely French phrases for Marc.
To all the bloggers who give up their time for their passion of reading and reviewing books—thank you for your support.
To Kathryn Magyar who begged and pleaded for Maggie and Jack to get their HEA. Yes, she begged—and I do love that in a woman ;)
To Krist Webster for beta-reading at short notice.
And to Erin Spencer of the Southern Book Belles who asked me to write a short story for the Hard Rock Café signing in Tulsa, OK, back in 2015, and ended up with 20 chapters. Love ya!
Thank you Stalking Angels. This story is yours. You told me how much you loved that first chapter when I introduced Jack and Maggie. If it weren’t for all of you falling in love with them, this book would never have happened.
You know how much you mean to me and you never let me down. You are my go-to gals, advising, supporting, making me laugh when I need it, reporting pirates, and generally being the best reader group and friendship group I could want. I love all your messages, and thank you so much for being my eyes and ears out in our amazing book world while I hide in my writing cave.
Battle Scars Page 21
