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The loud chimes of the chapel bell ringing the noon hour interrupted them.
‘Damn it.’ Connor glanced at his watch. ‘Is that the time already? We better get you out there.’ He patted his pockets and pulled out the twenty-four-carat-gold bands Mac had bought seven months back as soon as Juno had accepted his proposal. ‘Great, right, we’re all set,’ he said, slipping the wedding rings back into his breast pocket and wiping his brow with the back of his hand.
Mac chuckled as Connor hustled him out of the antechamber.
‘Calm down, Con,’ he said, his confidence returning as they walked into the tiny French chapel where he had once ogled Juno in her maid of honour gown. ‘No best man worth a damn gets stage fright, fella.’
He laughed as Connor cursed and shoved him into position at the front of the church now packed to the rafters with Hollywood A-listers and market-stall holders alike, all dressed in their best to wish the happy couple well.
Mac crossed himself, clasped his hands together and looked over his shoulder, eager for Juno to make her entrance. He just wanted to get this over with now so she’d be his for ever.
A satisfied smile curved his lips and he sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
Damned if he wasn’t going to have a wonderful life after all.
‘I still can’t believe you insisted on doing this when you were eight months pregnant. It’s completely mad,’ Daisy remonstrated for about the twentieth time in the last ten minutes. She stood up, propping her hands on her hips. ‘Right, you can take a look now,’ she said, whipping the sheet off the cheval mirror in the church rectory. ‘But I’m taking no responsibility whatsoever if you expose a nipple while you’re walking down the aisle.’
Juno took in her reflection and laughed. Daisy’s cream silk creation flattered her ripening figure with sleek, simple lines but dipped so low at her cleavage she blinked. ‘Oh, God.’ She clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘I see what you mean.’
‘I did warn you your boobs would get enormous,’ Daisy said, and huffed out a breath. ‘I still don’t understand why you and Mac couldn’t wait until after the baby was born. It would have been so much simpler.’
Juno turned to her friend and gripped her hand, the grin she’d been sporting for a good seven months getting wider by the second. ‘Not for us,’ she said simply. ‘You know how nervous Mac’s been getting in the last few weeks.’ She felt emotion tickle the back of her throat at how desperately he’d been trying to hide it. ‘He’d have gone into a complete tailspin if I’d made him wait a minute longer. He practically had a fit as it was when I told him the church wasn’t available till April, way back in October. He would have kidnapped me then and there if I’d even hinted we wait until after the birth.’
The memory of how desperate he’d been to get them safely wed still had the power to make her heart quicken.
Daisy stifled a giggle herself. ‘Having seen the look on his face this morning when I told him he couldn’t see you, I guess you have a point.’
The bells of the noon hour rang out across the small vestry.
‘Oh, dear,’ Daisy said, the teasing tone turning to consternation. ‘I had to promise Connor we would not be fashionably late, so he wouldn’t have to physically restrain Mac from storming down the aisle to get you.’ She gave an apologetic smile as her eyes dipped to Juno’s cleavage. ‘But that means I won’t have time to find some lace to preserve your modesty.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Juno said, still smiling. ‘The dress is gorgeous. And if the worst comes to the worst and I end up flashing the minister we’ll just have to hope he doesn’t have a heart attack or Mac really will kidnap me.’
They both laughed.
Daisy sobered first. ‘God, Ju.’ She clasped Juno’s hands tight, tears sparkling in her eyes. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘Why?’
‘Remember how panicky you were at the prospect of wearing that maid of honour gown when we were last here? Since then you’ve blossomed into the beautiful butterfly you were always meant to be. And it’s all your own doing.’
‘No, it’s not. It’s Mac’s too,’ she said, sniffing back tears of joy. ‘Anyone can be beautiful when they know they’re loved.’
As she walked down the aisle towards the man of her dreams and saw the love shining in his eyes—and the flare of arousal as his gaze drifted to her cleavage—her heart soared. How could any one heart feel so full and not burst? she wondered.
A week later, sore and exhausted after a demanding twelvehour labour, Juno had her answer as she watched her husband of eight days hold his tiny baby daughter in his arms for the first time.
‘So what do you think of her?’ she whispered, her voice weary, her heart full to bursting again.
His eyes met hers over the bundle cradled so carefully against his chest, his gaze filled with pride and awe and unconditional love.
‘You did well, Mrs Brody. She’s the most gorgeous baby in the known universe.’ A single frown line wrinkled his brow. ‘Although I may have to give you both a lecture on not missing your cue.’
She laughed, recalling how frantic he’d been when he’d woken up in the middle of the night to find her panting through her first contractions, three whole weeks early.
‘I’m sure I’ll do much better next time,’ she teased, and watched the colour drain out of his face.
‘Now, now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ he said forcefully. ‘It’s going to take a considerable time for my heart rate to get back to normal after this little one’s arrival.’ But then he glanced down at his daughter and grinned. ‘But at least Daddy’ll die a happy man, won’t he, darlin’?’
