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TEN
Denver
It’s my wedding day.
I smile as I straighten my military blues out, brushing away any wrinkles as I step out of the car and make my way down the sand to the edge of the water where the ceremony will take place. The sun is just starting to set over the water, and I smile as I make my way through the rows of chairs to the flower and fabric-covered pergola. The white lace fabric blows gently in the wind and I shake the priest’s hand before I step to his left, waiting for my bride to walk down the sand after me.
We rented a house on the beach and I look over to it now, knowing that my girl is somewhere inside, getting ready. We’ll go back to the house after the ceremony to eat and have the reception. I can see the caters van from my spot on the beach and I watch as they finish carrying in dishes.
I got Emerson’s favorite Italian restaurant to cater and that was pretty much my only involvement with the wedding planning. Emerson picked out the cake, DJ, photographer, and decorations. The rest of the backyard has been decked out in lanterns, flowers, and strings of lights. There are tables and chairs set up and a little bar set up in the corner.
It’s only been a week since we got engaged but I didn’t want to wait any longer. Besides, my family was still in town from my birthday and Emerson’s dad lives in Alabama, so everyone was able to make it on short notice. We invited a few people from the base but we both wanted a small, intimate, wedding so there will only be about fifty guests in attendance.
My family stayed and helped Emerson plan everything and it feels like I’ve barely seen my girl since I proposed. I’m looking forward to spending the next week alone with Emerson on our honeymoon. We’re headed to the Caribbean and I’m looking forward to spending time watching my wife, frolicking on the beach in just a bikini. Her lush curves bouncing as she runs in slow motion towards me.
Ok... I may have been fantasizing a little too much this past week.
I hear a murmur in the crowd, and I look up in time to see Emerson and her father step out of the house and start to make their way towards us. Soft music starts to play as she walks barefoot across the sand towards me. She looks gorgeous in her long white dress. It’s strapless and hugs her curves perfectly. She’s the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen and everything else starts to fade away as she gets closer to me.
I shake her father’s hand before I slip my hand into Emerson’s and lead her back to the priest. The ceremony doesn’t take long, maybe fifteen minutes before we’re repeating our vows and I finally get to kiss my girl. My wife, I correct in my head. The crowd cheers as we break apart and we both grin at each other before we walk back down the sand and to the house. We’ll take pictures in a minute but for right now, I just want a couple of minutes alone with my wife. I wasn’t allowed to see her all day and it’s been torture. That one little kiss wasn’t enough for me and as soon as we’re in a bedroom, I throw the door closed and back her up against it.
“You look gorgeous, Mrs. Cabot.” I whisper as my lips meet hers.
“You don’t look so bad yourself, hubby.” She says back with a sweet smile.
“I love you.” I say, getting serious.
“I love you, too.”
Our lips meet then, and I try to pour every ounce of emotion that I’m feeling into the embrace. Her lips move against mine and I know that she can feel it too. We’re fated, meant to be, and I know how lucky I am to have found her. There’s a knock at the door and we both pull apart.
“We should get back out there.” She says and I can tell that she wants to stay in here with me.
I want nothing more than to get lost in my wife, but I know that she’s right. I give her one more soft kiss before we head back out to greet our guests. We spend the next five hours taking pictures, dancing, and eating. Soon, it’s time to throw the bouquet and head out to the car to go to the airport. We’re flying out of Gulfport so the ride there won’t be very long. I make sure that our bags are in the back before we say goodbye, thanking everyone for coming one last time before we run out to the car.
“Ready for a week alone together, Mrs. Cabot?” I ask. I’ve noticed that I can’t seem to stop calling her my wife or Mrs. Cabot and I wonder if she minds. Judging by the giant smile on her face, I would say that she’s more than alright with it.
“More than ready.” She says as we take off for the airport.
