A Beautiful Wedding: A Novella

by Jamie McGuire

  This whole thing might play out to be a completely wonderful, beautiful disaster, but I want that if it’s with you.”

  “Like Johnny and June,” Travis said, his eyes a bit glossed over. “It’s all uphill from here, and I’m going to love every minute of it.”

  “Do you—” the officiant began.

  “I do,” I said.

  “Okay,” he said with a chuckle, “but I have to say it.”

  “I’ve heard it once. I don’t need to hear it again,” I said, smiling, never taking my eyes from Travis. He squeezed my hands. We repeated more promises, and then the officiant paused.

  “That’s it?” Travis asked.

  The officiant smiled. “That’s it. You’re married.”

  “Really?” he asked, his eyebrows raised. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “You may now kiss your—”

  Travis took me in both arms and wrapped me tightly, kissing me, excitedly and passionate at first, and then his lips slowed, moving against mine more tenderly.

  Chantilly clapped with her petite, chubby hands. “That was a good one! The best one I’ve seen all week! I love it when they don’t go as planned.”

  The officiant said, “I present to you, Ms. Chantilly and Mr. King, Mr. and Mrs. Travis Maddox.”

  Elvis clapped, too, and Travis lifted me in his arms. I took each side of his face into my hands and leaned over to kiss him.

  “I’m just trying not to have a Tom Cruise moment,” Travis said, beaming at everyone in the room. “I now understand the whole jumping on the couch and punching the floor thing. I don’t know how to express how I feel! Where’s Oprah?”

  I let out an uncharacteristic cackle. He was grinning ear to ear, and I’m sure I looked just as annoyingly happy. Travis set me down, and then glanced around at everyone in the room.

  He seemed a little shocked. “Woo!” he yelled, his fists shaking in front of him. He was having a very Tom Cruise moment. He laughed, and then he kissed me again. “We did it!”

  I laughed with him. He took me into his arms, and I noticed that his eyes were a little glossy.

  “She married me!” he said to Elvis. “I fucking love you, baby!” he yelled again, hugging and kissing me.

  I wasn’t sure what I expected, but this definitely wasn’t it. Chantilly, the officiant, and even Elvis were laughing, half in amusement, half in awe. The photographer’s flash was going off like we were surrounded by paparazzi.

  “Just a few papers to sign, a few pictures, and then you can start your happily-ever-after,” Chantilly said. She turned and then faced us again with a wide, toothy grin, holding up a piece of paper and a pen.

  “Oh!” Chantilly said. “Your bouquet. We’re going to need that in the pictures.”

  She handed me the flowers, and Travis and I posed. We stood together. We showed off our rings. Side by side, face-to-face, jumping in the air, hugging, kissing—at one point Travis held me up in his arms. After a quick signing of the marriage certificate, Travis led me by the hand to the limo waiting for us outside.

  “Did that really just happen?” I asked.

  “It sure as hell did!”

  “Did I see some misty eyes back there?”

  “Pigeon, you are now Mrs. Travis Maddox. I’ve never been this happy in my life!”

  A smile burst across my face, and I laughed and shook my head. I’d never seen a crazy person be so endearing. I lunged at him, pressing his lips against mine. Since his tongue had been in my mouth in the chapel, all I could think about was getting it back there.

  Travis knotted his fingers in my hair as I climbed on top of him, and I dug my knees into the leather seat on each side of his hips. My fingers fumbled with his belt while he leaned over to press the button to lift the privacy window.

  I cussed his shirt buttons for taking so long to undo, and then began working impatiently on his zipper. Travis’s mouth was everywhere; kissing the tender parts of skin just behind my ear, running his tongue down the line of my neck, and nibbling my collarbone. With one motion, he turned me onto my back, immediately sliding his hand up my thigh and hooking my panties with his finger. Within moments, they were hanging off one of my ankles, and Travis’s hand was moving up the inside of my leg until he paused at the tender skin between my thighs.

  “Baby,” I whispered before he silenced me with his mouth. He was breathing hard through his nose, holding me against him like it was the first and the last time.

  Travis pulled back onto his knees, his ripped abs and chest, and his tattoos on full display. My thighs instinctively tensed, but he took my right leg in both of his hands, gently moving them apart. I watched as his mouth hungrily worked from my toes, to my heel, my calf, my knee, and then to my inner thigh. I lifted my hips to his mouth, but he lingered on my upper legs for several moments, far more patient than I was.

  Once his tongue touched the most sensitive parts of me, his fingers slid between my dress and the seat, gripping my ass, lightly tugging me toward him. Every nerve melted and tensed at the same time. Travis had been in that position before, but he had clearly been holding back; saving his best work for our wedding night. My knees bent, shook, and I grabbed at his ears.

  He paused once, only to whisper my name against my wet skin, and I faltered, closing my eyes and feeling as if they were rolling to the back of my head in pure ecstasy. I moaned, making his kisses more eager, and then he tensed, lifting my body closer to his mouth.

  Every passing second became more intense, a brick wall between wanting to let go and needing to stay in that moment. Finally, when I couldn’t wait any longer, I reached up and buried Travis’s face into me. I cried out, feeling him smiling, overcome by the intense jolts of electricity bolting throughout my body.

  With all of Travis’s distractions, I didn’t realize we were at the Bellagio until I heard the driver’s voice over the speaker. “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Maddox, but we’ve arrived at your hotel. Would you like me to take another drive down the Strip?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Finally

  Travis

  “No, just give us a minute,” I said.

  Abby was half-lying, half sitting on the black leather seat of the limo, her cheeks flushed, breathing hard. I kissed her ankle, and then pulled her panties off the toe of her high heel, handing them to her.

  God damn, she was a beautiful sight. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her while I buttoned up my shirt. Abby flashed me a huge grin while she shimmied her panties back over her hips. The limo driver knocked on the door. Abby nodded and I gave him the green light to open it. I handed him a large bill, and then lifted my wife into my arms. We made it through the lobby and then the casino in just a few minutes. You might say I was a little motivated to get back to the room—luckily having Abby in my arms provided cover for my bulging dick.

  She ignored the dozens of people staring at us while we entered the elevator, and then planted her mouth on mine. The floor number was muffled when I tried to say it to the amused couple closest to the buttons, but I saw out of the corner of my eye that they’d pushed the right one.

  As soon as we stepped into the hall, my heart began to pound. When we reached the door, I struggled with keeping Abby in my arms and getting the keycard out of my pocket.

  “I’ll get it, baby,” she said, pulling it out and then kissing me while she unlocked the door.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Maddox.”

  Abby smiled against my mouth. “My pleasure.”

  I carried her into the room and lowered her down to stand at the foot of the bed. Abby watched me for a moment while she kicked off her heels. “Let’s get this out of the way, Mrs. Maddox. This is one article of clothing of yours that I don’t want to ruin.”

  I turned her around and then slowly unzipped her dress, kissing each piece of skin as it was exposed. Every inch of Abby was already ingrained in my mind, but touching and tasting the skin of the woman that was now my wife made it new all over again. I felt an excitem
ent I’d never felt before.

  The dress fell to the floor, and I picked it up, tossing it over the back of a chair. Abby unsnapped the back of her bra, letting it fall to the floor, and I tucked my thumbs between her skin and the lacey fabric of her panties. I grinned. I’d already had them off once.

  I leaned down to kiss the skin behind her ear. “I love you so much,” I whispered, slowly pushing her panties down her thighs. They fell to her ankles, and she kicked them away with her bare feet. I wrapped my arms around her, taking a deep breath in through my nose, pulling her bare back against my chest. I needed to be inside her, my dick was practically reaching out for her, but it was important to take our time. We only got one shot at a wedding night, and I wanted it to be perfect.

  Abby

  Goose bumps formed all over my body. Four months earlier, Travis had taken something from me I’d never given to any other man. I was so hell-bent on giving it to him, I didn’t have time to be nervous. Now, on our wedding night, knowing what to expect and knowing how much he loved me, I was more nervous than I had been that first night.

  “Let’s get this out of the way, Mrs. Maddox. This is one article of clothing of yours that I don’t want to ruin,” he said.

  I breathed out a small laugh, remembering my buttoned-up, pink cardigan, and the pattern of blood spatters down the middle of it. Then I thought about seeing Travis in the cafeteria the first time.

  “I ruin a lot of sweaters,” he’d said with his killer smile and dimples. The same smile I wanted to hate; the same lips that were making their way down my back right now.

  Travis moved me forward, and I crawled onto the bed, looking behind me, waiting, hoping he would climb on. He was watching me, pulling off his shirt, kicking off his shoes, and dropping his slacks to the floor. He shook his head, turned me onto my back, and then settled on top of me.

  “No?” I asked.

  “I’d rather look into my wife’s eyes than be creative . . . at least for tonight.”

  He brushed a loose hair from my face, and then kissed my nose. It was a little amusing watching Travis take his time, pondering how and what he wanted to do to me. Once we were naked and settled under the sheets, he took a deep breath.

  “Mrs. Maddox?”

  I smiled. “Yes?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to call you that.”

  “Good. I kind of like it.”

  Travis’s eyes scanned my face. “Do you?”

  “Is that a real question? Because it’s kind of hard to show it more than taking vows to be with you forever.”

  Travis paused, confliction darkening his expression. “I saw you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “In the casino.”

  My memory instantly went into rewind, already sure he had crossed paths with Jesse, and he’d possibly seen a woman with him who resembled me. Jealous eyes play tricks on people. Just when I was ready to argue that I hadn’t seen my ex, Travis began again.

  “On the floor. I saw you, Pidge.”

  My stomach sank. He’d seen me crying. How would I possibly explain that away? I couldn’t. The only way was to create a diversion.

  I pushed my head back into the pillow, looking straight into the eyes. “Why do you call me Pigeon? I mean really?”

  My question seemed to take him off guard. I waited, hoping he would forget all about the previous topic. I didn’t want to lie to his face, or admit what I’d done. Not tonight. Not ever.

  His choice to allow me to change the subject was clear in his eyes. He knew what I was doing, and he was going to let me do it. “You know what a pigeon is?”

  I shook my head in a tiny movement.

  “It’s a dove. They’re really fucking smart. They’re loyal, and they mate for life. That first time I saw you, in the Circle, I knew what you were. Under the buttoned-up cardigan and the blood, you weren’t going to fall for my shit. You were going to make me earn it. You would require a reason to trust me. I saw it in your eyes, and I couldn’t shake it until I saw you that day in the cafeteria. Even though I tried to ignore it, I knew it even then. Every fuckup, every bad choice, were bread crumbs, so that we found our way to each other. So that we found our way to this moment.”

  My breath faltered. “I am so in love with you.”

  His body was lying between my open legs, and I could feel him against my thighs, only a couple of inches from where I wanted him to be.

  “You’re my wife.” When he said the words, a peace filled his eyes. It reminded me of the night he won the bet for me to stay at his apartment.

  “Yes. You’re stuck with me, now.”

  He kissed my chin. “Finally.”

  He took his time as he gently slid inside of me, closing his eyes for only a second before gazing into mine again. He rocked against me slowly, rhythmically, kissing my mouth intermittently. Even though Travis had always been careful and gentle with me, the first few moments were a little uncomfortable. He must have known that I was new to this, even though I’d never mentioned it. The whole campus knew about Travis’s conquests, but my experiences with him were never the wild romps everyone talked about. Travis was always soft and tender with me; patient. Tonight was no exception. Maybe even more so.

  Once I relaxed, and moved back against him, Travis reached down. He hooked his hand behind my knee and pulled up gently, stopping at his hip. He slid into me again, this time deeper. I sighed, and lifted my hip to him. There were much worse things in life than promising to feel Travis Maddox’s naked body against and inside of mine for the rest of my life. Much, much worse.

  He kissed me, and tasted me, and hummed against my mouth. Rocking against me, craving me, pulling at my skin as he lifted my other leg and pushed my knees against my chest so he could press himself into me even deeper. I moaned and shifted, unable to keep quiet while he positioned himself so he was entering me at different angles, working his hips until my nails were digging into the skin of his back. My fingertips were buried deep into his sweaty skin, but I could still feel his muscles bulging and sliding beneath them.

  Travis’s thighs were rubbing and bumping against my backside. He held himself up on one elbow, and then sat up, pulling my legs with him until my ankles were resting on his shoulders. He made love to me harder, then, and even though it was a little painful, that pain shot sparks of adrenaline all over my body. It took every bit of pleasure I was already feeling to a new level.

  “Oh, God . . . Travis,” I said, breathing his name. I needed to say something, anything to let go of the intensity building up inside me.

  My words made his body tense, and the rhythm of his movements became faster, more rigid, until beads of sweat formed on our skin, making it easier to slide against each other.

  He let my legs fall back to the bed as he positioned himself directly over me again. He shook his head. “You feel so good,” he moaned. “I wanna make this last all night, but I . . .”

  I touched my lips to his ear. “I want you to come,” I said, ending the simple sentence with a soft, small kiss.

  I relaxed my hips, letting my knees fall even farther apart and closer to the bed. Travis pressed deep inside me, over and over, his movements building as he groaned. I gripped my knee, pulling it toward my chest. The pain felt so good it was addictive, and I felt it build until my whole body tensed in short but strong bursts. I moaned loudly, not caring who might hear.

  Travis groaned in reaction. Finally, his movements slowed, but they were stronger, until he finally called out. “Oh, fuck! Damn! Agh!” he yelled. His body twitched and trembled as he pressed his forehead hard against my cheek.

  Both out of breath, we didn’t speak. Travis kept his cheek against mine, twitching one more time before burying his face in the pillow under my head.

  I kissed his neck, tasting the salt on his skin.

  “You were right,” I said.

  Travis pulled back to look at me, curious.

  “You were my last first kiss.”

  He smiled, pressed his lips agains
t me hard, and then buried his face against my neck. He was breathing heavily but still managed to sweetly whisper, “I fucking love you, Pigeon.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Before

  Abby

  A buzzing pulled me out of a deep sleep. The curtains kept out all but the slivers of sun bordering them. The blanket and sheets were hanging halfway off our king-size bed. My dress had fallen off the chair onto the floor, joining Travis’s suit that was scattered all over the room, and I could only see one of my high heels.

  My naked body was tangled with Travis’s, after the third time we consummated our marriage we passed out from sheer exhaustion.

  Again with the buzzing. It was my phone on the nightstand. I reached over Travis and flipped it over, seeing Trent’s name.

  Adam arrested.

  John Savage on the list of dead.

  That was all he said. I felt sick as I deleted the messages, worried that maybe Trent didn’t offer more because the police were at Jim’s now, maybe even telling their dad that Travis might be involved. I glanced at the time on my phone. It was ten o’clock.

  John Savage was one less person to investigate. One more death for Travis to feel guilty about. I tried to remember if I’d seen John after the fire broke out. He was knocked out. Maybe he’d never gotten up. I thought of those frightened girls Trent and I saw in the hall of the basement. I thought about Hilary Short, who I knew from calc class, and was smiling as she stood next to her new boyfriend near the opposite wall of Keaton Hall five minutes before the fire. How long the list of the dead really was and who was on it was something I’d tried not to think about.

  Maybe we should all be punished. The truth was, we were all responsible, because we were all irresponsible. There is a reason why fire marshals clear these kinds of events and safety precautions are taken. We ignored all of that. Turning on a radio or the television without seeing the images on the news was impossible, so Travis and I avoided them when possible. But all this media attention meant investigators would be all the more motivated to find someone to blame. I wondered if their hunt would stop with Adam, or if they were out for blood. If I were a parent of one of those dead students, I might be.