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I smile, caressing my bump.
“Thanks, Grandma.”
“Have the two of you made any decisions about her name yet?” she asks. I shake my head.
“No. We’ve got a few ideas, but nothing for certain.”
“She could always be named after your favorite grandmother,” the elderly lady says, winking. “May is a classic name, you know.”
I laugh. “Yes, Grams. I know.”
The gray-haired woman finishes helping me tie a bow around my back, and then helps me put on a string of pearls I borrowed from her. Then comes the final touch: a delicate lace veil that flows down over my curls. We both gasp upon looking in the mirror because I look mysterious, romantic, and utterly radiant, even behind the lace.
A knock sounds at the door. “Is everyone decent?”
“Yes! You can come in,” I sing.
Bruce, Peter’s brother, pops his head in. “We’re all set out here if you are.”
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face because today, I get to marry the love of my life. “Thanks Bruce. I’m ready.”
The handsome man offers his arm to Grams and leads her out to take her seat, and then he comes back for me. He looks very male and very charismatic in a black suit that complements his dark hair and bronzed complexion. There’s a definite resemblance to my soon-to-be husband, but they couldn’t be more different personality-wise. My fiancé has never banged a woman at work, whereas Bruce makes a habit of it, although I understand Peter has since banned that particular activity at the corporate offices.
“Last chance to ditch my brother and upgrade to marry me,” Bruce jokes, flashing a cheesy smile and a wink at me.
I shake my head, laughing. He might be a player, but he does make me giggle. “One day some woman is going to come along and knock you off your feet, Bruce Wilshire. But I’m afraid Peter is it for me, so that’s a no go.”
He feigns a broken heart as I thread my arm through his.
“Damn. I might as well commit suicide then.”
I let out a snort from behind my veil.
“More like you’ll meet a pretty girl or two at this wedding and be up to no good within hours.”
He winks.
“Make that twenty minutes. Now, let’s get you hitched, future sister-in-law of mine.”
I smile beatifically.
“Yes, let’s.”
We step into the chapel and my eyes go straight to Peter, locking with his charismatic blue gaze. For a second I forget how to walk and I pause, just taking him in. My fiancé is gorgeous, waiting for me by the altar in his black suit, with a blue flower pinned to his lapel. That azure stare meets mine, and immediately my knees go weak. However, Bruce knows what he has to do and escorts me to the front of the chapel before handing me off to his brother.
“She’s all yours,” he whispers with another wink.
Meanwhile, Peter takes both of my hands in his and leans in to nuzzle my ear. “You look gorgeous, baby girl.”
“So do you.” He really does, and I can’t take my eyes off him.
“I believe you both wrote your own vows?” the officiant interrupts kindly.
“Yes,” Peter says. Then the handsome man meets my eyes and grins while reading from a paper pulled from his breast pocket. “The first time I met you, Angela Jane Richardson, you opened your mouth and I knew I was yours. You were sassy, fierce, and a wildcat all at once, but I loved it. Since then, you’ve held my heart in your hands, and you will hold it forevermore. Thank you for loving me. I promise to cherish you forever and I’m honored to be by your side for the rest of our lives.”
I’m smiling through my tears, and Peter gently wipes them away for me. Then, I take a deep, shuddering breath and begin to recite my own vows. “Everything about you, Peter Wilshire, has been unexpected. From the unorthodox way we met, until the moment you told me you loved me and we made our child. Adoring you wasn’t something I planned on, but it’s the best thing I’ve ever done, and I promise to love you forever. I can’t wait to spend my life with you and our baby, and I know our lives will be wreathed in happiness. I love you.”
Before the officiant has a chance to say anything, Peter pulls me close and begins to kiss me, slow and sweet. I melt into his arms, uncaring that we’re making out in front of all the guests.
“They got to it a bit early,” the officiant chuckles, and I hear Grams and Bruce laugh with mirth. “But now, by the power vested in me by the State of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may continue to kiss your bride.”
Peter pulls back just a bit and smiles down at me. “I love you, Mrs. Wilshire.”
