Authors: A. L. Jackson
Lizzie peeked back at me. Her long black hair was all tied up in an elegant twist. It was beautiful and made her look much too old, but she insisted that she have her hair done like mine. She was almost seven, but today, as she paused and looked back at me with a meaningful smile, her mouth so soft and her blue eyes softer, I knew my little girl fully grasped what this day meant to us.
At the end of the sandy path, she veered off to the left and took her spot.
Our guests all stood and turned to face me. There were few, just two short rows of chairs situated on each side. This was the way Christian and I wanted it.
The wedding we’d missed almost a year ago was supposed to take place in a large church overflowing with all the people we knew—friends, family, and acquaintances.
Today there were only those closest to us, those who really understood what we’d gone through to make it here today.
On the left, my sister, Sarah, was surrounded by her husband and two children. Carrie, my youngest sister, smiled at me from within the mix. And my mom, she was there, her expression so kind, so gentle in the backdrop of the rough woman who had worked her entire life to take care of us. There were just a couple others, my aunt and a few cousins.
I looked to the right. Christian’s aunt, a woman I had only met this week, stood there beaming, flanked by her husband who had his arm around her waist. They’d said they wouldn’t have missed this, not for the world.
My attention traveled to the front row and settled on Claire. A wistful smile lifted one side of her trembling mouth. Our eyes met. Hers were glassy and red. She was already crying, twisting a handkerchief in her fingers. She mouthed, “Thank you.”
Emotion expanded my chest, filled it so full, it made it difficult to breathe. But the loss of this breath was not pain as it used to be. This was joy.
It was I who owed her thanks, the one who I would be grateful to for the rest of my life for her son.
My attention was drawn to him. This beautiful man who stood there, staring at me, waiting for me, as if I were his life.
I knew I was, just as assuredly as he was mine.
Never again would I run from him.
The cellist shifted, the strings striking with the song we had chosen for this day. It wound with the wind, crashed with the waves, a soft love song that rose to a beautiful crescendo that called me home.
My steps were slow as I began to walk toward the man who had loved me through my darkest hour, my stride deliberate as my bare feet sank into the sand. The flowing gown swished around my ankles, the back brushing the ground.
Maybe my steps were slow. Maybe it was because I was relishing each one, like each represented an obstacle we’d had to climb, the trials we’d had to overcome. Maybe each one was a triumph, each a celebration.
Even though each step was measured, in reality, I was running toward him.
Running toward my forever.
Because I realized I didn’t have one without Christian.
He was my all.
I stopped a foot from him. He smiled that smile, that stomach-flipping, heart-lurching, earth-shattering smile.
The one that was only for me.
Softly he tilted his head to the side, so many words spoken in his expressive eyes, his love and his devotion, his hopes and his dreams. He cupped my jaw and ran his thumb along my cheek. “You beautiful girl,” he whispered into the wind.
I covered his hand with mine, pressed it closer as I closed my eyes.
And I cherished.
I cherished this man.
My eyes fluttered open and I caught Matthew’s expression from where he stood behind Christian, standing up as his Best Man. What else would he be? He’d stood beside me, beside us for so long. He was our best friend, our family. His kind brown eyes swam in a soft affection, in a relief and a joy of something he’d wished for me for so many years. He’d always told me he just wanted me to be happy.
And I truly was.
Christian slipped his hand from my cheek to my neck, his palm warm against my cool skin as he dragged it down the expanse of my bare shoulder, over my elbow, all the way to my hand.
Chills flashed across my skin, his touch igniting deep within me. No longer was it unknown. This need I knew well. It was something only found in him, a safety and a charge of desire.
He knotted our fingers together as we turned to face the minister who stood in front of the simple floral arbor.
Natalie stepped forward, kissed my cheek as she took my bouquet. My Matron of Honor stepped back behind Lizzie. Her
smile was wide, as if she were fighting a grin, uncontained delight rising in her as she looked at Christian and me, as we began a new leg of the journey we’d started so many years ago.
And with my family surrounding me, the people who’d seen me through so much, I promised my life to Christian.
Our vows were simple.
I will stand by you forever
.
We already knew what that meant, that there would be difficulties we would face, that there would be sorrow. But there would also be joy.
And I was going to live every day of those with Christian.
The minister pronounced us husband and wife. Christian turned to me, and for a few moments, we just stood there looking at each other. This beautiful man who had touched me, who’d changed me and shaped the person I had become.
His hold was gentle as he reached out and took my face between his hands, his fingers splayed wide as he tilted my face up to meet his penetrating gaze.
The wind gusted around us, the smell of the ocean riding on the cool, spring breeze. Errant strands of my hair blew all around us, whipping at our skin and stirring up our spirits.
Blue eyes blazed as they looked down on me. For a flash, his hold tightened, and in it, he made another promise.
I will never let you go
.
Then his mouth descended on mine, his hands on my face and his grip on my soul. This kiss was slow, maddening, fire and ice, always too much and never enough. My fingers found their way into the jacket of his tux as he bent me back. Passion ripped through us before we tripped into this consuming joy. And then he was grinning at my mouth, and I was laughing and crying as I wrapped my arms around his head. He pulled me off my feet and into his arms, spinning me around.
“I love you, Elizabeth Davison.”
I leaned back so I could see his face. “I love you, Christian. Forever.”
Lizzie giggled, rushed to our side as Christian set me back on my feet. He hoisted her up in his arms. Today, she didn’t seem to complain, but just grinned as she wrapped herself around his neck, Christian’s grip firm around my waist.
I stood there swaying in the arms of my little family. Cheers rose up from the small gathering, those who were there because they loved us, because they wished the best for our lives, as they showered us with their blessings, supported our hopes and these undying dreams.
And I was happy. Intensely. Wholly.
Giggles rolled up my throat as I buried my fingers in Christian’s hair. I lifted my face to the mirrored ceiling, his mouth at my neck. He had me pressed up against the elevator wall as it lifted and sped toward the top floor of the hotel.
“Mmm…you smell so good.” A brush of his mouth, a nip of his teeth.
I moaned as I tightened my hold.
A groan rumbled in his chest, and he kissed along my collarbone.
The elevator dinged and the doors parted. Christian’s head shot up, just as fast as the smirk shot to his face. He grabbed my hand, hauling me behind him as he fumbled for the keycard, as if he couldn’t make it to our room fast enough.
He suddenly swung me around in front of him and whisked me into his arms. I yelped before I snuggled into the perfection of his hold, winding my arms around his neck.
He maneuvered so he could slide the keycard into the slot, and then kicked the door open wide.
“Aren’t you supposed to carry me over the threshold of our house, not our hotel room?” I flashed a teasing grin up at him, my mouth curved with the force of this love.
He angled to the side so we could fit through the door. Amusement sparked in his eyes, glinted with his joy. “Well, I’d be happy to do that, too. But tonight, I’m carrying my wife through this door, and once I get her behind it, I’m going to make love to her again and again. You don’t have a problem with that, do you, Mrs. Davison?”
I laughed a little more, not able to comprehend this bliss, the way I felt, a buzz of energy burning below my skin as Christian carried me into the suite at the highest point of Downtown San Diego.
He brought us into the expansive suite. Candles glowed all around the living area, flickering as they jumped and twinkled against the floor-to-ceiling windows facing the bay. Black waters rippled and danced in the moonlight that hung low in the darkened sky.
“Who did this?” I whispered.
“I might have had a little help from your sisters and Natalie. That’s why they left the reception a little early.”
I bit my lip to bite back my awe, turned my red face into the collar of his white button-up and breathed in this magnificent man. Hours ago, he’d rid himself of the stuffy jacket and pulled off his tie.
I still couldn’t decide if I liked him better in a tux or in his low-slung jeans.
His dress shoes echoed on the marble floor as he crossed the living area into the bedroom. Here, too, candles sat on every surface. Flames flickered and danced, casting shadows across the large bed covered in plush, white linens, the bedding turned
down and waiting for us, and a mass of floral bouquets filled the space.
In the background, our song played.
“I didn’t need all of this,” I whispered into the calm of the room.
“No, but I can give it to you, so why would I not?” His expression shifted, his jaw held taut. The playfulness that had followed us all the way from our reception party, into the limo, and here to our suite faded away. In its place was a distinct intensity, his expression severe. Lines deepened on his brow. A dense weight filled the room, and, in the short flickers of the flames, I watched the emotion gather on his face.
Slowly he lowered me to my feet.
A thick knot formed in my throat when Christian stepped back, his brazen gaze caressing my body.
The hair piled high on my head was beginning to fall apart with the play of this evening, the dancing and the kisses and the hands that Christian couldn’t seem to keep out of the intricate twist. Pieces hung loose, brushing down over my bare shoulders and tumbling to the top of my strapless gown.
It was the same dress that had hung in a garment bag in the back of my closet for many months, the one I’d been so eager to stand before Christian in as I promised him my life. It had to be altered, the dress originally made to accommodate my swollen belly, but this dress had always been for him.
I felt beautiful wearing it in front of him now.
He trailed his fingertips down my jaw, let them linger at the hollow of my neck. “You are the most exquisite woman, Elizabeth. No one compares to you. Not a single soul.”
I trembled at his touch, shook with his words.
How was it possible he still made me feel this way?
He took me by the shoulders and guided me to turn. His breath washed against the back of my neck.
The fine hairs at my nape lifted, and chills sped down my spine.
Adept fingers worked on the tiny pearl button at the top of the gown’s zipper. Goosebumps flashed across my flesh as Christian freed it and began to drag the zipper down, my skin slowly exposed.
The gown pooled in a heap at my feet.
“Beautiful,” he whispered.
I wore a white bustier that dropped low in the back, the satin-lined bodice pressing my breasts together in the lift, matching panties that were all satin and lace, and a pair of white heels I’d slipped on when we left the beach.
For a moment, we just stood there, Christian’s presence burning into me from behind.
Finally, he touched me, his palms gliding down my hips to my thighs, before he trailed them back up, applying pressure as he turned me around. His mouth curved in gentle affection when he took my hand and helped me step from the mound of fabric bunched on the floor.
Christian took a step back, let his eyes wander as he contemplated every inch of me.
A blush blossomed across my chest and spread all the way to my cheeks. The man had seen me at my worst and seen me at my best, and he’d made love to me countless times. Still, his gaze slipped over me in a slow appreciation, as if he were undressing me for the very first time.
A strip of bare skin was exposed between the bodice and my panties, and Christian’s attention dropped to it. He reached out, his right thumb making a tender pass over the tattoo that rested on the front of my left hip.
The tiny black bird had spread her wings, her spirit free.
My Lillie.
Christian had one that matched.
We’d gone together, another step that felt as if we were slowly healing. I’d come to realize that I was scared that moving on meant I had to let her go. Now I knew that wasn’t true. Even though we hadn’t been allowed to keep her here, she would forever live in our hearts.
Our forever.
She would always hold a piece of that.
I would always feel the loss of Lillie. Her memory would always hurt, but I’d learned to find joy in her, in the love that Christian and I shared for her, in the unending hope that I realized we needed to carry on in her name.
Christian cupped my face between his hands, a storm of intensity brewing in his eyes. “I love you, Elizabeth. More than you will ever know. You have absolutely made me the happiest man alive.”
I smoothed my fingertips against the sharp angles of his jaw, let them flutter up to trace the curve of his lips. “But I do know, Christian. Because there is no way to love you more than I love you now. No greater joy than this.”
His hands slid down my neck and over the cap of my shoulders. He leaned to reach behind me, ticking off the little clasps that held together the lingerie.
A rush of cool splashed against my skin, and my nipples pebbled as they met with the air. Christian dipped his head, took over my mouth, his kiss strong and slow as he circled my breasts with the pad of his thumbs.