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“You’ll see.” She grins in the rearview mirror, then revs the engine.
We drive down Cove Boulevard as the afternoon sunshine gilds the changing leaves, parking outside of Four Cups. Normally, the café would be closed by now, but the lights are on and the door is open. We exit and hear music blasting and people chattering.
My eyes well with tears. Sebastian comes to stand next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me in to kiss my temple.
“Congratulations,” Simone tells us with a radiant smile. “We couldn’t let you go off on your wedding night without a little celebration.”
Fiona, Candice, and Trina appear in the doorway, crowding around us with well-wishes and tears in their eyes. They usher us inside, where drinks are flowing and music is bumping. Bella is in Hamish’s lap, being treated like a little canine princess by the old Scot. He informs us that he’ll be dogsitting for our wedding night, and it doesn’t sound like we have a choice in the matter. Jen appears from the back of the café, carrying a gorgeous two-tier wedding cake, and I ruin my makeup by sobbing.
My friends—the heartless jerks—just laugh at me and shove champagne in my hands. I drink, dance with my new husband and my friends, and feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
When my feet get tired, I take a seat on one of the chairs lining the dance floor. I watch Sebastian as he laughs with Grant on the other side of the room and fall in love with him for the millionth time. It seems to happen every time I look at him.
“You look beautiful, Georgia,” Mia says as she takes the seat next to me. “I’m so happy for you.”
I shake my head. “I kind of can’t believe it. I swore I’d never get married again.” I glance down at the simple engagement ring now stacked with a thin gold wedding band. “But this feels right. I can’t believe you all organized this party on such short notice.”
“Oh, it was easy,” Mia replies with a laugh. “These women are a force of nature. I wanted to help, but they’d basically already organized everything within ten minutes of deciding to throw the party.”
I laugh, remembering the way my girlfriends pushed me to open Art’s Cove. When these women put their minds to something, there’s no stopping it.
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas hobble over to me and offer their congratulations, even though it seems tinged with disappointment that I didn’t choose their grandson. Mia says nothing, but when they walk away, she rolls her eyes at me.
I laugh. “No luck with the dating app?”
“Please,” she replies. “I’ve given up. I’ll be an old maid. I’ve accepted it now.”
“Well,” I answer, “there’s always Des Thomas.”
Mia gives me a flat stare. “I’d rather eat beard clippings.”
Laughing, I glance across the room and catch Sebastian’s gaze. He murmurs something to Grant, then slices across the room toward me. Without a word, he hauls me up off my chair and throws me over his shoulder, to the delight of our very large audience.
“Get it, Sebastian!” Simone shouts, thrusting an index finger toward him. “He’s ready for the wedding night.”
Fiona laughs by her side, leaning her head against Grant’s shoulder.
“Thank you all for this,” Sebastian says, spinning around in a circle while I dangle over his shoulder. “It means the world to us. But Georgia and I have somewhere to be.”
Teasing laughter rings out all around. Blushing, I try to wriggle off Sebastian’s shoulder only to feel his arm clamp more tightly around my legs. When I give up and let my husband carry me away, the last thing I see is my friends giving me not-very-subtle thumbs-ups.
They are such dorks. I love them—almost as much as I love Sebastian.
When we exit the café, he sets me down on the sidewalk and cups my face in his hands. “I love you,” he says, then kisses me tenderly. “You ready to go home?”
I arch a brow, glancing over my shoulder at the café behind us. “Doesn’t seem like I had much of a choice.”
“You had four hours,” he grins. “Now it’s my turn.”
His words elicit shivers in every private place on my body. I smile up at the love of my life, shaping his shoulders with my palms before hooking my arms around his neck. “Take me home, Sebastian. I want to make love to my husband.”
A low rumble is the only response I get before I’m carried off across the road to the pickup truck he’d parked in front of my gallery.
In the end, we don’t actually make it all the way home. As soon as the truck is parked in front of my house, I end up straddling him right there in the driveway.
“Just like the first time,” Sebastian says with a gravelly laugh. Then our mouths are busy for a while, so we don’t talk at all.
* * *
