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We lay there, breathing hard, before she lifts her head and laughs. “I think you’ve convinced me. I’m ready to set some new records.”
I fully agree and spend hours that night setting several new barriers for us to break on our wedding night.
25
No Substitute (Grace)
For the tenth time today, I pinch myself in the thigh.
I’m not taking any chances that this is a dream.
Part of me worries that one morning, I’ll wake up and none of this will be real.
Barely a month after Ridge asked me to marry him, we’re back at the hotel, in the banquet room, saying our I do’s.
Dallas comes out again in full, and so do many of his high-profile friends from Hollywood. This time, when I enter the crowd-filled room, I’m beaming with happiness.
Dad walks me along the red carpet that’s been laid out from the huge door to where Ridge stands on the stage. They’ve turned it into an altar, complete with an archway covered in yellow roses.
He’s in a lady-killer tux again. Black with a gold cummerbund.
I swear, a hotter man never existed on this planet. In this galaxy. In this freaking universe.
“It makes me smile to see you this happy, Gracie,” Dad says with a sniff I pretend I don’t notice. “Some days, I just can’t believe our luck.”
“I feel the same way, Dad.” My heart swells with love as each step brings me closer to Ridge. “We’ve been through hell and back and have a lot to be proud of.”
“We sure do, Gracie-girl. Your mother wouldn’t believe it.”
The sun shines in through the window, soft gold highlighting my groom in his full glory just then.
I’d be a fool to miss the symbol.
A light.
My guiding light to happiness.
My wish, finally coming true.
“If you’ve got a light, you’ve still got a wish,” I say, mostly to myself.
Dad chuckles. “You remember that, huh? Haven’t heard that old saying in years.”
“Every day,” I whisper. “Every single day.”
I should do more than remember.
After today, I should believe it with all my heart.
It took Ridge Barnet to restore my shattered faith in wishes. Love truly doesn’t have any boundaries.
The ceremony is as beautiful as our commitment for life.
More memories than I could ever hope to hold spill out in every moment. I don’t think we’re up there for more than ten or fifteen minutes with everybody’s eyes glued to us.
I’m so stuck on Ridge, I barely get to glance around at the tears falling out of my bridesmaids, Amy and Alicia, or the solemn nods of approval from Faulkner, Grady, Joel Andrews, and Drake, Ridge’s groomsmen.
I do catch Tobin, Ridge’s best man, quickly flicking aside his glasses to catch a tear, then straightening his suit like nothing ever happened.
It’s so hard not to smile until it hurts.
I wish I could brand every second into my brain for life.
The fierce way he says I do with his midnight-blue eyes blazing with promise.
The sweet, oh-so-possessive way he slides the ring on my finger.
The unbelievable way he lifts me up and gives me a kiss that sears my soul.
It happens about half a second before the pastor finishes the famous call to kiss the bride.
If there’s a glitch anywhere, I never notice. I’m too focused on Ridge, now my husband, to have and to hold for the rest of my days.
The reception that follows is the perfect celebration of our new life together. We slip away while the band plays on, drinks keep flowing like water, and finally Ridge carries me over the threshold of the hotel’s honeymoon suite.
And yes, I’m sure he’s thrilled that we finally break that record for our clothes coming off.
No easy feat when I’m decked out like a white bell with laces that give his fingers the ultimate MacGyver test.
We both groan at the pleasure when he enters me for the first time as my husband, and again as he plunges deeper, to the hilt, claiming my depths.
God.
My nails rake down his back, and I can’t stop my legs from shaking to save my life.
He fills me, thrills me, and languishes in these slow, focused thrusts. They unite us fully, just like each feral kiss, fully intent on marking each other for life.
“Damn, darlin’, how do you stay this tight?”
He thrusts harder, sexy precision, taking me to a happy place where I can’t think of anything except the building fire, leading to a climax that’s out of this world.
When the crescendo comes, I shout his name, feeling it down to my bones.
I’m glad he’s there with me, burying himself so deep he stretches my walls, growling his release in my ear as his thick heat pours into me.
Holy hell.
It’s like riding a wave, reeling in aftershocks that have my pulse echoing in my ears, my body jolting at the brilliance of how good it feels to come together.
