His Blushing Bride_The Cocktail Girls

by Emilia Beaumont

  “I haven’t been thinking about that, the inheritance wouldn’t matter. It just pisses me off that the condition was put in there in the first place. But even with it, I still wouldn’t have her.”

  My mother reached across the table and took my hand. “Do you love her, yes or no?”

  I looked up with glossy eyes. “Yes.”

  “Then do whatever you need to do, if you want to fight for her, then fight!”

  I could already feel my resolve building. My mother had pretty much given me her blessing. So why was I still sitting here? Everything I could ever want awaited me if only I would reach out and reclaim my wife!

  “There should be joy in this home again, like there used to be. It should be filled to the brim with happiness and love, that’s what I want. What do you want, Ethan?” my mother asked. She reached over to the purple flowers in the middle of the table to brush them tenderly. “You know, I’ve always wanted a daughter…”

  I looked at the flowers that Peach had picked for her and began to put a plan in motion. The fight was only just beginning. Nial may have won the battle, but I was going to win the war as well as Peach’s heart.

  14

  Peach

  To my disappointment the chapel looked closed when I arrived. Why I felt the need to return to the scene of the crime, the place where Ethan and I had drunkenly exchanged wedding vows, all for it to go to hell, was a mystery to me. But regardless, my feet had led me there. Something deep inside had me come back, like it was tugging on an invisible string, not letting go till I was outside the chapel doors.

  I debated whether I wanted to go inside now that I was actually here. Would it hurt too much? But curiosity got the better of me. I had never seen it closed before, it was always brimming with love and excitement. But tonight it was devoid of the usual bustling activity. I stepped up to the doors and peered in through the stained glass. There was movement inside and someone in a coral dress was talking to the receptionist.

  Shocked I did a double take and almost pressed my nose to the glass to have another look. It was April of all people. I knocked on the window and she turned to see me. She had an expression of equal surprise. She quickly said something to the receptionist and then came outside to see me.

  “Peach, what are you doing here? I thought you were at work… you’re early,” April said her eyes darting away as if nervous.

  “Please, don’t mention work. I just got fired.”

  “Oh god, what happened? Maximo I guess? I’ll give that bastard a piece of my mind.”

  “Well I kinda already did that. I told him to go to hell.”

  “That’s my girl,” replied April, hugging me.

  “Wait, why are you here?” I asked. “Why are you dressed like that? Don’t tell me you’re getting married, why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

  “Breathe, honey. Breathe. And no, I’m not getting married.”

  The receptionist was suddenly in the doorway. “You can go in now,” she said.

  April nodded then smiled broadly at me. “Don’t you worry, I think things are going to be okay.” She hugged me tighter.

  “What on earth is going on?” I tried to ask but April was having none of it, and shushed me.

  “Just stand there and look pretty,” she demanded, and fluffed my hair. I felt like I was on candid camera, and turned to make sure there wasn’t a whole crew of people behind me.

  April pushed me forward, then skirted around me to help the receptionist peel back the inner chapel doors.

  What was revealed I could never have imagined, not in a million years.

  Normally, I’d be greeted by the familiar sight of the ornate carved altar at the very end of the aisle, with several pews on either side guiding the way, a giddy couple, with their hands clasped together, holding on to each other. Sometimes there’d be a few people sat watching the ceremonies, invited guests watching their friends get married, or crazy kooks like me just there to soak up all the love.

  However this time the place was empty of people.

  Except for one man.

  There down on one knee was Ethan. He held a beautiful bouquet of peonies, a variety of pastel peach shades. The look in his eyes was all I needed for my heart to swoon. But my head was still in control.

  I looked around, trying to find understanding in my surroundings. My eyes were met by more peonies than I had ever seen before. They spilled from displays around the door and throughout the chapel. The whole place was decked out. Peach ribbons adorned everything, the seats, the flower displays. It was as if all the happy ceremonies I had ever seen here had combined together into one joyous occasion.

  “Ethan, what are you doing?”

  “Peach, my darling, I can’t—”

  “Ethan. Stop. You shouldn’t be here,” I found myself saying. My words practically trying to push him out the door.

  “No. This is exactly where I need to be. And I’m going to have my say whether you like it or not. You’re not going to run from me this time. They have orders to lock us in here if needs be.”

  “You can’t be serious?”

  “Well, no… That bit I lied about. Though I wouldn’t put it past your friend, April. But please. Stay. Listen to what I have to say?”

  I sighed, and tried not to smile. “Okay… let’s hear it.”

  “This is harder than I thought.” Ethan got up and took a couple of steps closer. “Peach, I know I shouldn’t have taken so long to come and find you… what happened I think caught us both off-guard, and maybe we both needed time to lick our wounds. But these past few days have been torture. I haven’t known what to do with myself… I think I nearly drove my mother and Gertie crazy.”

  “Ethan—” I started, knowing the exact same feeling. Like somehow my feet had lifted off the ground, my body drifting, at the whims of the air currents, being blown to and fro without knowing how to get back down. Unable to figure out how to feel whole again.

  “Right, yes. I should get to the point. Peach, I can’t live without you. I love you completely, I have from the start. I know this started as something quite different, but I think we both know it is so much more. I want to tear up that annulment document… I want you.”

  “But the vineyard, your family. You can’t give that up for me.”

  He took another step forward. “My family knows everything, there is nothing that can come between us ever again. I promise. I choose you.”

  “Even though you found out about what I did?”

  “Baby, we all have a past. I don’t care about that. All I know is that I want a future, with you. So… What do you say to starting over, doing everything for real, Mrs. Dalton? Renewing our vows?”

  I gasped at his use of my married name. Then he said it again for good measure.

  “Mrs. Peach Dalton, will you marry me again?”

  I laughed and wiped a tear of happiness from my eye. “Yes, I say yes!”

  Ethan handed me the bouquet and I managed just in time to remove it from his forward momentum, wrapping my arms around his neck, as his hand circled my waist.

  “I will love you forever,” whispered Ethan, before his eyes dipped to my lips.

  “Kiss me, husband,” I demanded in reply and sank into his embrace.

  “Is this what our marriage will be like? You ordering me about?”

  “Oh shut up, and kiss me!”

  Ethan laughed then dipped me down, his lips descending upon mine for much longer than was appropriate. It was a kiss I would remember for the rest of my life.

  “You know, I don’t think I could’ve planned this any better,” I joked when our lips finally parted.

  “I learned from the best,” grinned Ethan, “which is something we will be talking about, my darling wife.”

  15

  Epilogue: Ethan

  The day of the summer solstice that year was the perfect day to get married… again. The valley was basked in a peach blanket, the sun wrapping its rays around everything it touched. />
  But I barely had time to register the glory of the view. I only had eyes for her.

  My blushing bride.

  This time we were doing it the right way. This time I would remember every detail. The way her ivory dress hugged her curves and flowed around her ankles. The way the sun glinted in her hair, making her strawberry blonde locks look like spun gold. But especially the way that each time I looked into her dazzling eyes that I realized how lucky I was.

  For the last few months together we’d taken over the running of the Dalton estate, and with Peach’s ideas and organizational skills, and my experience and contacts we’d launched the business to the next level. We made an incredible team. Of course, occasionally we had to put up with a few interfering suggestions from my mother, who hadn’t been quite ready to let go of the reins. But with my two ladies by my side, who I adored more than anything in the world, I felt like we could accomplish anything.

  Only a couple of weeks ago did we put the finishing touches on the disused barn, that now would serve as an illustrious wedding venue, accompanied by the bespoke restaurant I’d always wanted alongside. The idea for the barn had been all Peach’s doing, and with her running that side of the business her dreams of becoming a wedding planner had come true.

  And today was time for another dream to come to pass; to give her the wedding she’d always dreamed of.

  We were the first to get married in the new barn, christening it with our love. We exchange our vows unable to take our eyes off each other, holding hands and never wanting to let go.

  Finally she was mine. And though the first time around was just as legal, this felt real. We’d stood up in front of our friends and family, not shied away from our past impulsiveness, and declared our love to the world.

  As we emerged from the ornate doors of the refurbished barn, the crowd around the pavilion cheered and showered us with an explosion of colorful confetti. Another cheer went up when I pulled Peach into my arms and kissed my bride.

  “Now this is what I call a wedding,” I said. “We’d be hard-pressed to forget this one.”

  “You better not,” she laughed, her fingers playing with the hair at the back of my neck. “But just in case, I wouldn’t be adverse to renewing our vows again and again…”

  “Maybe not every year though, huh?”

  “Every ten?” she countered.

  “Deal! Next time on a beach perhaps?”

  “Ooh, I like the sound of that.”

  “Anything for you, gorgeous. Which reminds me, I have a surprise for you.”

  “What is it?” Peach asked with wide eyes. “You’ve already given me so much.”

  “This I think you’ll love.” I pointed across the valley to the new bit of land I’d recently purchased. “See those trees over there? That’s your very own orchard… I figure it’s about time we diversified. How about your very own brand of peach schnapps?”

  “Oh my god, Ethan, really?”

  I nodded.

  Peach kissed me hard, her hands pressed up against my chest. “You spoil me too much. But I have a little surprise for you too…” Discreetly Peach guided my hand up her thigh. Beneath her dress I could feel the lines of a garter beneath.

  “I hope it’s not something borrowed cause I’m going to tear it off with my teeth when I get you alone,” I said my grin widening, my cock stiffening.

  “No, not borrowed. But you’ll have to wait till later to see if it’s something blue… or pink,” she replied with a wink.

  Before I could find a response, we both gasped, startled when doves flew up from the edge of the pavilion, followed by many cameras flashing as the sun started to set.

  “Did you arrange that?” I asked, looking to Peach.

  She shook her head. “No… did you?”

  “Nope.”

  We both glanced around trying to decipher where the lovebirds had come from, when I noticed a certain mischievous gleam in my mother’s eye. She raised her glass, filled with a distinctive pink cocktail, and came closer. “Your father would be so proud… of you both. So am I. Dalton winery is in very good hands.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Now, go on. You two have a party to enjoy.”

  I nodded and led Peach to the center of the dance floor as music began to play.

  “I think this is going to be the start of something wonderful, don’t you?” I asked as I kissed Peach’s cheek.

  “I do!” replied my blushing bride.

  The End

  Meet the other Cocktail Girls!

  Get Drunk On Love

  The Cocktail Girls is a shared world between 14 of your favourite romance authors. Each novella is a stand-alone story set in the city of sin.

  Grab your kindle, a cocktail, and get ready to meet our new swoon-worthy alphas. Bottoms up, ladies!

  His Old Fashioned by Frankie Love

  His Mimosa by Jamie Schlosser

  His Irish Coffee by Jessica Lake

  His Whiskey Sour by Kim Loraine

  His Champagne by Dori Lavelle

  His Manhattan by Tracy Lorraine

  His Blushing Bride by Emilia Beaumont

  His Perfect Martini by Angel Devlin

  His Long Island Iced Tea by Roxy Sinclaire

  His Hurricane by Alexis Adaire

  His Sloe Screw by Alexandria Hunt

  His Vegas Bomb by Derek Masters

  His Redheaded Slut by Vivian Ward

  His Gin and Juice by Alexx Andria

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  Also by Emilia Beaumont

  For an up-to-date list please visit:

  www.emiliabeaumont.com/books

  Reigning Love Series

  Royal Master

  Royal Daddy

  Expecting & Loving Series:

  Expecting my Billionaire Stepbrother’s Baby

  Loving my Billionaire Stepbrother’s Baby

  Forbidden Desires Series:

  Snake

  Vulture

  Shark

  Damaged Series:

  The Play Book

  The Curve Ball

  The Love Game

  The Lucky Draw ~ coming soon

  Stand Alones:

  Billionaire Stepbrother

  Kiss Me Again

  Hitman’s Revenge

  Dream Daddy (a Dark Daddy’s Best Friend Romance)

  Daddy Ever After (a Billionaire Romance)

  Royal Bastard

  Bad Boy’s Wedding

  Five Night Valentine

  Mail Order Bridesmaid (a Fake Fiancée Romance)

  Coming in Handy (a Single Daddy Romance)

  About the Author

  Emilia Beaumont is a full-time writer, originally hailing from England. She now lives in Ireland with her husband and a house full of cats. Surrounded by peaceful emerald fields she always has a pen and notebook to hand ready for when the next saucy idea strikes. Emilia is also an avid comic-book reader and a wildlife advocate.

  Emilia’s Newsletter: http://smarturl.it/BeaumontNewsletter

  

  Connect with Emilia

  @emiliabeaumont

  authoremiliabeaumont

  www.emiliabeaumont.com

  emilia@emiliabeaumont.com

  Royal Master Teaser

  Sophie

  My heart raced as I shut the door, closing myself inside the room, alone with the prince. My new nemesis. I had a moment of doubt when I wondered what on earth I was doing there. But I quickly reminded myself I had a job to do.

  I was fortunate to be friends with the royal publicist, who had rang me to give me a heads up as soon as she’d heard of William’s accident and subsequent admittance to King Frederick IV’s hospital.

  Ignoring the late hour and after throwing on some clothes, I hurried to the hos
pital in the middle of the night, fearing the worst. I’d managed to get there in time to hear the last bit of His Majesty’s conversation with his son, giving him an ultimatum and painting him into a corner that I knew Will would be livid about. But in all the years I had worked for the royal family, I had never heard the king so angry.

  The shouting ended and the king shut the door with a tremendous amount of force as he left. I stepped aside, nodded and curtsied as he passed by, not expecting him to address me.

  “Your turn. I hope you can talk some sense into him, Sophie.”

  “I’ll do my very best, Your Majesty.”

  Now, in William’s hospital room, I was dealing with an equally angry royal, who was looking at me like I was his worst enemy. Maybe I was. After all, I was in charge of shaping him into someone who was worthy of the crown. I felt out of my depth.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked, cautiously ignoring his earlier outburst, and came to stop at the foot of the hospital bed.

  “How do you think?” he shot back, impatience and anger written all over his face alongside the tiny cuts that marked his left side. “Are you here to tell me that I’m a disappointment as well?”

  Well, his mouth was working fine, I thought. Shame.

  But he didn’t seem too banged up. I looked at him and noted the contradicting waves that seem to radiate from him. He was pissed off, that was clear to see, but he was oddly vulnerable at the same time, lying there like that, tucked under the crisp white sheet. He reminded me of a child I once knew, sick and utterly dependent upon carers and the kindness of others.

  “I don’t think you’ve had a fair shot in proving what you can and cannot do.”