Paige removes the veil and wraps her arms around me.
“Good luck, Emma,” she says. “I’m terribly happy for you.”
“Thanks, Paige,” I say, feeling touched. “And thanks for stopping by.”
After Paige leaves, Catherine tells me that she’s going to run out and check on a few things. As she steps out, I can’t help but feel overcome with gratefulness for her. She’s helped me so much with planning this wedding. I’d be a stressed-out calamity without her.
“How are you feeling?” asks Mom, coming over to me. She smooths a strand of my hair. “Nervous at all?”
“No. Not really,” I say. “Just excited.”
“Good. You look radiant, Emma.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“I’m proud of you, sweetie. Not for getting married. But…just…for being you.”
I give her a kiss on the cheek. “That’s really sweet of you to say.”
Mom helps me get into my dress. It’s a fit-and-flare gown made out of the most spectacular lace, and it hugs me just right. When I first saw it hanging in the bridal shop, I thought, No way. It’s too glitzy. It’s too much drama. But as soon as I tried it on, I was in love.
And, for the record, I have definitely not been wearing it around my apartment for fun. What kind of lunatic would do that?
Just as Mom is securing the last of the clasps that run up my back, Catherine pops back into the room. Catherine is wearing a pretty lavender dress, and you’d never in a million years guess that she gave birth mere months ago. I say that admiringly, though—not bitterly. Not anymore.
“Ready, Em?” Catherine asks.
“Ready,” I say.
“All right,” she says, grinning at me. “Then let’s get you married.”
Luke is more handsome than a male model in his tux—although, if you ask me, he’s pretty damn handsome in anything. What I love most, though, is the way he looks at me as I walk up the aisle. No look could express a more genuine love.
“Hey,” he says, when I reach the altar. “You look beautiful.”
“So do—I mean, you look really great, too.”
He laughs. He takes my hands. And then he squeezes them in that way I know I’ll never tire of.
Standing at the altar with Luke, everything else temporarily fades away. I’m aware of the officiant speaking, of the significance of his words, but all I can truly focus on is Luke. I get so lost in him that I miss my cue when it’s time to exchange our vows.
“Sorry, what?” I say, and everyone in attendance laughs. Myself included. “Oh—right. Yes. I do.”
Luke says his vows next (“Most definitely I do”), after which the officiant says a few last words, and then, like that, we’re married. As we kiss, I’m so overwhelmed with joy that I can’t even imagine feeling happier. When we turn to face all of our friends and family, though, and everyone is whooping and cheering for us—well, my happiness, it runneth over.
And so, as overjoyed newlyweds, we mingle; we eat our fancy catered dinner; we kiss on command when people clink their knives against their glasses. And later, when the music starts up, we dance. I dance with Luke, I dance with my sister, I dance holding my adorable five-month-old niece on my hip (who, for the record, is the cutest little blueberry ever), I dance with Paige, who, as always, has some new dance moves to teach me. I take breaks from dancing only to use the bathroom—which is a whole orchestrated thing, thanks to the infantry of clasps on my dress—and to refuel with the sweet treats that our caterer has set out in the form of a dessert bar. Naturally, one of the many dessert options available are chocolate cupcakes, each topped with a toasted marshmallow.
They are, in a word, divine.
At some point later in the night—I’ve lost all track of time—I look across the dance floor and see that Luke is getting his ear talked off by one of his cousins. He’s a nice guy, Luke’s cousin, but my God can he talk. It’s like he’s going for a world record or something.
I make my way over to Luke and thread my arm through his.
“Hi,” I say, and smile sweetly at Luke’s cousin. “Do you mind if I steal my husband away?” Husband. Yeah. I like the way that sounds. Husband and wife. Luke and Emma. We do sound good together, don’t we?
“Sure thing,” says his cousin. “I’ll catch up with you later, man. Congratulations again.”
“Thank you so much,” I say, and pull Luke away. I pull him all the way to the middle of the dance floor. The deejay is playing one of our favorite songs—Take My Breath Away—a song that we have both always loved but only recently realized we share an affection for.
Luke wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me in close, and I sling mine up around his shoulders.
“Thanks,” he says. “I owe you one.”
“Oh, we’re still keeping track, huh?” I ask.
“Always and forever,” he says.
About the Author
Rachel Arnett is a romance writer with a heart-shaped funny bone. Emma and Luke Are Totally Together is her debut novel.
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Emma and Luke Are Totally Together Page 16
