by Shandi Boyes
With that in mind, I began planning our wedding. In just two short weeks, Emily will finally be my wife. If it weren’t for Jacob, we’d most likely be getting married with our guests’ butts planted on bales of hay. Well, not quite that bad, but it wouldn’t have flowed as easily without Jacob’s help.
He’s always been great like this, so I wish he’d give my offer to be my assistant more thought. He didn’t have to shoot me down as rudely as he did. He told me he’d rather fuck himself than become my assistant.
He thinks his refusal was the end of it. He has no clue I’ve been transferring money into his account every month since the week before my accident. He can be my assistant, even without an official title.
That’s what best friends are for, right?
Chapter 61
Emily
“Breathe, Emily.”
I clutch Jenni’s wrist as my lungs fight for air. I’m not in labor; I’m just panicked out of my mind. I guess nerves are common for brides on their wedding day. It isn’t that I have cold feet; it’s the fact I’m thirty-eight weeks pregnant and about to walk down the aisle in front of our family and friends. Please don’t let today be the day my water breaks, or if it is, can it be after I’ve seen what Noah planned?
I don’t know any details of our wedding, except that the ceremony and reception are being held in the gardens at our cabin. Noah banned me from going outside the past week. He’s lucky my heavily pregnant body hates the heat, so I’ve been more than happy to veg out in the air conditioning, watching my favorite movies.
“Here you go.”
I can’t help the smile that curves on my lips when Nicole hands me my bridal bouquet. The stems of the white lilies are wrapped in bright fluorescent yellow ribbon. It matches the fluorescent yellow dress I wore the night we became an official couple. I love all the little details Noah has included in our day. It shows how truly romantic he is.
A wolf whistle parts my lips when my dad joins Jenni, Nicole, and me in the foyer. I've never seen him in a suit, much less scrubbed up as nice as he is now. His shaggy dark hair is combed out of his eyes, showing off his murky green irises to perfection, and the long sleeves of his suit cover the tattoos on his arms. He looks handsome and put-together, which is a rarity for him.
“Ready?”
Smiling broadly, I nod. I’m more than ready. The day I’ve often dreamed about is finally here. I'm about to become Mrs. Noah Taylor. When Jenni and Nicole take their place in front of me, butterflies tap dance in my stomach. I’m not the only one shaking. I swear I can hear Nicole’s knees clanging together.
I was fine with Noah planning our wedding, but I requested permission to choose the bridesmaids’ dresses because I wanted to force Nicole out of her comfort zone. Nicole is so shy, if Jenni and I don’t give her the occasional push, she’ll live a boring, sheltered life. We don’t need her to go bungy jumping or swimming with sharks, we just want her to feel comfortable in her own skin.
When she sees everyone’s reaction to the daring dress she’s wearing tonight, I’m confident that will happen. It’s a spaghetti strap design with a fitted bodice. The back drapes drastically, stopping just before the two dimples in her lower back. She’d never wear a dress so daring, but not even she could deny how beautiful she looked in it. I’m glad she’s an accommodating bridesmaid, or things would have gotten extremely awkward.
When I exit the wooden double doors of the cabin on the elbow of my dad, I’m blinded by the flash of a camera. Thankfully, this time around, it isn’t the annoying paparazzi. It’s the cameraman Noah hired to capture our day.
The gasps of our family and friends as I walk down the steps of our cabin prick my eyes with tears. They stare at me with the same wonder Noah’s eyes hold when he looks at me. I feel loved, protected, and beautiful all thanks to their admiring glances.
After following the white-carpeted aisle around the corner, I spot Noah. He’s standing on a glass platform in the middle of our infinity pool. With lights flickering through the sturdy glass material, it’s a truly magnificent visual, although it can’t compete with the sight of Noah in a suit.
The darkness of his pin-striped suit matches the intensity of his eyes. Pair that with the midnight black dress shirt underneath, and the single white lily pinned to his chest, and you’ve got an incredibly alluring visual that wipes away the image of him lying lifeless on the pavement months ago from my memory bank.
Noah’s gaze never wavers from mine as I make my way down the aisle to him. He mouths for the entire world to see that he loves me before accepting the hand my dad is holding out for him.
Once they shake hands, he assists me onto the glass platform while whispering, “Because we have the whole world at our feet.”
Tears gather in my eyes. “Yes, we do.”
He rubs away my tears with his thumbs. “No crying, Beautiful, not today.”
Nodding, I hand my bouquet to Jenni before joining Noah in front of our celebrant. She gets straight down to business.
“Family and friends, we've joined here today to share with Noah Gibson Taylor and Emily Faye McIntosh an important moment in their lives. In their time together, they have seen their love and understanding for each other grow and blossom, and now they have decided to live out the rest of their lives as one. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together—let them speak now or forever hold their peace.”
Noah's face pales when a cough sounds from behind his shoulder. With his jaw ticking, he cranks his neck back to the person interrupting.
Jacob gives him a playful wink before dropping his eyes to mine. “Are you sure you want to marry him, Em? I’m still available.”
I laugh along with our two hundred guests. “Thanks for the offer, Jake, but I’ll stick with Noah.”
Jacob shrugs like he can’t possibly understand why I won’t run away with him before shifting on his feet to face the celebrant. “Okay, I guess you can continue.”
Everyone laughs again, except Noah. He appears seconds from strangling him.
I run my thumb along his hand clasped around mine, striving to get his focus back on me. When his dark, intense eyes land on me, I whisper, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Beautiful.” He doesn’t whisper his words like me. He declares his love for the world to hear, not the least bit embarrassed. I love that about him. That he’s not ashamed to show he’s in love. A lot of people could learn a thing or two from him.
Overwhelmed by how much I love him, I lean forward to press my lips to Noah’s. Our guests laugh again when the celebrant says, “We’re supposed to save that for after the vows, but whatever floats your boat.”
My cheeks flame with heat as I pull back. “Sorry.”
“At least we know you’re not here against your wishes.” She waits for the guests to stop laughing before starting our ceremony. “Who gives this woman to be wed?”
“We do,” declare my mom and dad from the front row.
After admiring my mom’s stunning peach-colored lace dress, I shift my eyes to Noah’s dad, who is seated next to my dad. Noah made contact with him a few weeks ago. It’s a slow process, but it feels right having him here to celebrate our day.
“Repeat after me.” The celebrant tilts her microphone toward Noah’s mouth.
An adorable gleam brightens Noah’s eyes as he confesses, “I have my own vows I want to recite to Emily.”
My lips curve into a smile. I’ve also written my own vows.
Once the celebrant gives him the go-ahead, Noah recites his vows straight from his heart. “Emily, I knew the day you were leaning against your bedroom door in a football jersey that you’d be my wife one day. I thought I could fight the inevitable, that I could resist your charm. I was wrong. You are more than I’ve ever hoped for, and more than I deserve, but I will love you until the end of time. Your face will never be marked with tears again unless they’re from happiness radiating from deep inside you. Your smile will never be washed aw
ay, not with me by your side. You’re my best friend, my lover, and now you're my wife. I promise to cherish you and love you every day of my life.”
Heat spreads across my chest, loving that he used part of the lyrics from “Surrender Me” in his vows.
“I also have my own vows,” I inform the celebrant when she angles the microphone to me. After a nerve-clearing breath, I say my memorized vows. “Noah, I loved you from the first moment I saw you, although it took you a little longer to notice than I would have liked.” I stop to admire Noah’s dimpled grin. “You’re the beat to my rhythm, the step to my dance, and the lyrics to my song. I promise to continue helping you heal, to take care of you, and to stand by your side for the rest of my life. I promise to love, honor, and cherish you every day of my life.”
“Now, we’ll exchange the rings.”
When the officiant directs Jacob to hand her our rings, I wait with bated breath for him to joke about forgetting them, so you can imagine my surprise when he simply gives them to her.
“Noah, repeat after me...” The celebrant’s words taper off when her voice is drowned out by a helicopter hovering above us.
Noah shakes his head, disgusted at the lengths the paparazzi will go for an exclusive photo of our wedding. He has no clue how close they came to broadcasting images of him in his hospital bed to the world. If it weren’t for Jacob smashing the pap’s camera before knocking out his teeth, who knows how much the media would have profited from Noah’s accident?
I’ve grown so much disdain for the media the past six months, I choked on my spit when Noah asked me to agree to an exclusive spread in a worldwide, well-known gossip magazine. I was shocked. I never thought he’d sell our wedding photos. It was only when he explained the money from the sale would be donated to a suicide prevention campaign did the reason behind his decision make sense. We both struggled with our own form of depression in our teens, so I was more than happy to support such a worthwhile cause. Noah made the donation in Chris’s honor, and that, ladies and gentlemen, is another reason I fall in love with him more every single day.
Ignoring the interruption, Noah peers into my eyes as if I’m the only person in the world. “I, Noah, take you, Emily, to be my wife. I promise you love, honor and respect, and to be faithful to you, forsaking all others, until death do us part.”
After swallowing harshly, he places my wedding ring on my finger, his hand trembling.
“I, Emily, take you, Noah, to be my husband. I promise you love, honor, and respect, and to be faithful to you, forsaking all others, until death do us part.”
Once the platinum band is slipped on his finger, the celebrant says, “By the authority vested in me, it’s my pleasure to pronounce Noah and Emily husband and wife. Noah, you may kiss your bride.”
Smiling his panty-dropping grin, Noah tilts closer to me. While giving me a torturously slow and teasing kiss, our family and friends wolf whistle and cheer around us. They have no clue how much I wish they weren’t here right now—even more so when Noah murmurs, “I can’t wait to see what you're wearing under your dress.”
I placed Noah on a two-week sex ban to make our wedding night more special. He thought it would only be hard on him, but since I’m pregnant, my appetite is tenfold. I’m struggling not to ravish him in front of our family and friends. I wouldn’t hold back if my mom wasn’t in the front row.
When I catch the gleam in Noah’s eyes, I return his tease. “In another five to six hours you might find out.”
Noah groans, just realizing we have the entire reception to get through before he discovers the strapless bustier and garter I'm wearing under my dress. The garter has blue guitars across it. Jenni gifted it to me this morning, citing it was perfect for something new and something blue.
After gathering my bouquet from Jenni, Noah and I walk down the aisle side by side. Our guests throw white rose petals at us while our photographer takes a million shots.
Several hours later when I walk into the reception tent at the back of our cabin, I gasp. The burgundy tulle draped down the white canvas ceiling matches Jenni and Nicole’s dresses to perfection. The two dozen round tables scattered around a dance floor have burgundy table runners, and the plates and cutlery covering them are gold-dipped. On top of the table runners are glass vases filled with burgundy long-stemmed roses and white lilies, and there are millions of tiny fairy lights scattered throughout the room. It’s truly breathtaking, the stuff of fairytales.
I spin to face Noah, my eyes once again watering. “How did you know the color of the girls’ dresses?”
When we picked them, I swore Jenni and Nicole to secrecy, but the color of the burgundy in our reception tent is an exact match.
With a broad grin, he taps his nose with his index finger. “A little birdie told me.” He bands his arms around my waist to tug me in as close as he can without squishing my thirty-eight-week pregnant stomach. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.” I raise my chin up high so our eyes align. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Beautiful.” He presses a kiss to my lips before dropping to his knees. “And I love you too.”
We spend the rest of the night celebrating with family and friends. Jacob and Jenni deliver heartfelt speeches before toasting to Noah and me having a long and happy marriage. We dance our first dance as husband and wife to the acoustic version of “Surrender Me” before my dad cuts in to ask for a dance, and Jacob and the guys from the band get heavily intoxicated.
Although our guests are loving the endless bar tab, Noah is stone-cold sober. He refuses to drink one drop of alcohol, believing the day he drinks will be the day I’ll go into labor, and since he refuses to drive after consuming a drop of alcohol, his veins are filled with nothing but blood.
I jump out of my skin when I’m suddenly grabbed from behind. “Emily, baby! You love my big hugs, don’t you?”
Noah laughs, finally catching on to Jacob’s antics. With Noah not biting as he usually does, Jacob ups the ante. His kiss is only a peck, but it’s sloppy and wet, launching Noah into action. “Fuck off, Jacob!”
Jacob laughs when Noah yanks me away from him. “There’s still time, Em. The ink isn’t dry yet.” The bad slur of his words reveals he’s drunker than I thought. I barely understood a thing he said.
Before I can assure Jacob not even a voided marriage certificate could steer me away from Noah, a soft voice pops up. “Congratulations, Noah and Emily.”
Heat tracks across my cheeks when my eyes collide with Dr. Miller’s. This is the first time we’ve locked eyes since she busted Noah and me getting hot and heavy in her physical therapy room. “Thank you.”
Jacob stands straighter when Dr. Miller’s eyes stray to him. “Hello, Jacob.”
“Rachel,” he greets her, no longer slurring.
My gaze shifts to Noah, wondering if he too can feel the tension in the air. He’s watching Dr. Miller and Jacob with as much interest as me.
If I’m reading things right, Lola has competition, and considering she’s seductively prancing toward Jacob as I speak, I’d say I’m not the only one aware of this.
When Lola leaps into Jacob’s arms, his first response is shock. That’s soon set aside for pleasure when Lola mashes their lips together, not caring when she’s subjected to the wrathful glare of Dr. Miller.
“What did we miss?” Noah asks when Jacob and Lola veer off in one direction while Dr. Miller stomps in another.
As confusion gurgles in my stomach, I shrug. “I have no idea.”
Jacob rarely left my side the three months Noah was in a coma, but even I’m shocked by the tension his interaction with Dr. Miller left hanging in the air.
Chapter 62
Noah
Finally, our guests are gone and I have my beautiful wife all to myself. She’s sitting on our bed, wearing nothing but a lace bustier and a garter with blue guitars around the elastic. She’s fucking ravishing, and I’m dying to taste her again, but she stretches out her arm, halti
ng my tiger-like prance.
“Stop right there.”
I cock a brow, wordlessly warning her my patience is stretched thin. I haven’t touched her sexually in two weeks. I can’t wait any longer.
As her teeth rake her bottom lip, her eyes drift over my suit. “Strip... slowly.”
The zipper in my trousers bites my cock when her tongue delves out to lick her top lip. Her confidence is at an all-time high today, and I’m loving every minute of it.
As I unbutton my suit jacket, her lust-crammed eyes watch me like a hawk. She’s panting so hard, her tits thrust high with every breath she takes, and the scent of her arousal intensifies the longer we stand across from each other fighting the tension, but loving it at the same time.
Once I have my coat removed, I drop it to the floor then yank my dress shirt out of my trousers. Emily’s lips part when I fiddle with the gold cufflinks on my sleeves. They’re engraved with our initials: N & E. When I walk to the dresser to place my cufflinks on the top, Emily’s eyes track my walk. Her eyes are full. I’ve never seen them as needy as they are now.
As my hands dart up to the top button of my dress shirt, I keep my eyes fixed on her. I go purposely slow, un-popping one button at a time, following her command to the T.
From the way she keeps fidgeting, I’m confident she’s regretting her decision. She’s so eager for me to hurry up, I haven’t even gotten the third button undone before she races across the room, grips the lapels of my dress shirt in her hands and rips them open. “
“Oops,” she murmurs when pearl buttons ping around the room.
She’s not sorry. Not in the slightest. Her eyes are smoldering more now than they were when she stripped for me.
My belt is the next article of clothing she removes. She drops it to the ground with a clatter before her index finger treks down the ridges in my stomach. Once she has my muscles bunched up, she unclasps the button in my trousers then lowers the zipper. My cock twitches when her needy eyes drop to watch it be freed from my boxer shorts. It springs out with a boing, its buoyancy compliments of the vivaciousness in her eyes.
