WORTHY, Part 1 (31 page)

“I don’t mean your family,” I said, batting his hands away. “I mean Lucy or Winston or someone.”

“I sent them all home,” he said. “It’s the holidays, after all.”

“Has that ever been done before?” I asked, laughing incredulously. It would seem like the Whartons would want even more luxury surrounding themselves this time of year.

“Apparently not,” he said, shrugging. “They said it was the best Christmas bonus they could’ve wished for. I said it was the best present they could give me—an empty house with the woman who’s going to be my wife.”

I gasped. “Does this mean—even the chef is gone?”

“Yeah, why?”

“To the kitchen!” I yelled, barreling off the couch.

We explored unabashed, two children set loose for a night. I fixed us a dinner—my first time cooking since I’d come to the city—and it was like a limb that had been long asleep coming back to life. It was therapeutic and delicious.

Then, as a Christmas gift to both of us, we began to see just how many places we could have sex in before we couldn’t bear another thrust.

He kissed my neck by the fireplace in the den, ravished me on the pool table in the game room, took off my sweater and left it on the dining room table as he massaged my back, and pulled my leggings off on the stairs, spanking me playfully as I scampered up to get away from him.

He brought me to the edge of orgasm in the elevator, riding up and down, then claimed me for his own over the surface of his desk. We finally came together on the bathroom floor, rolls of towels surrounding us, before heaving ourselves into the shower.

“Best damn Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jonathan groaned, both of us barely able to stand.

“You don’t know that,” I reminded him, my head balanced on his shoulder.

“No, I’m sure of it,” he said. “But next Christmas will be even better.”

“How’s that?” I asked. “I don’t think we’ll ever be able to beat this record.”

“Next Christmas you’ll already be my wife,” he said, kissing me.

“Sooner than you think,” I said, smiling.

Everything was just perfect on the day of the wedding. Jane had told me not to worry about a thing, and so I was doing my best. As much as Amelia didn’t like me, she was a control freak about events. She had everything well in hand, from the band to the caterer to the guests.

Since it was her plan, Jonathan and I had kind of just let her have at it. I didn’t really care that neither of us knew the vast majority of the guests. I was going to get married to my true love.

After the first of the year, the months had flown by. I learned quickly that I couldn’t worry about anything—it stressed me out too badly. I simply focused on my classes and gave my input about the ceremony, reception, and food when asked.

At the wedding, Rowan had me styled and in my dress nearly thirty minutes before the ceremony was supposed to start.

“I thought we’d have more of a problem,” she said. “You don’t understand, honey. I style a ton of bridezillas.”

I laughed. “You thought I was going to be a bridezilla? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“I had to plan for that contingency,” Rowan said, kissing me on both my cheeks. “You look amazing. Simply amazing.”

“I hope you’d say that about your own work,” I teased, feeling overjoyed and not in the least bit nervous.

“So who’s giving you away?” Rowan asked. “Everything I used is waterproof, so boo-hoo away, honey. Is your dad a big crier?”

I’d never seen my father cry. My memories of him were of laughter. I wondered how he would have behaved if he had been alive to walk me down the aisle.

“Collier’s giving me away,” I said, my smile a couple of watts dimmer. “I don’t think he’ll cry.”

“No, he doesn’t seem like the type, does he?” Rowan mused. “You want me to bring Jane in?”

I could hear Jane laughing outside the tent with some of the friends she’d gotten to invite. I was just relieved that I had been able to stand up for myself and insist on only having a maid of honor and a best man—Jane and Brock. I didn’t want a big wedding party, and I’d even managed to dodge the bachelorette party.

“You know, I think I’d like to be alone until the ceremony,” I said. I didn’t think I could face Jane and her cackling. I was sure she’d insist on her friends joining us for the festivities in the bridal tent, anyways.

“Sure thing, honey,” Rowan said, smiling at me a little too knowingly. “I’m sure she’ll let you know when it’s time.”

When I was alone, I took a good, long look at myself. Jonathan had talked me out of plastic surgery, but Rowan had done her magic with the airbrush. I looked very close to flawless and very much a bride. The dress really was the one—and had been well worth the wait.

What was missing, of course, was my family. If only my parents could’ve been here to see their daughter grow up. My eyes shimmered with tears, and single fat droplet rolled down my cheek. I grimaced as I lunged for a tissue, soaking it up before it could splash on my dress. True to her word, Rowan’s makeup stuck to me like glue. There would be no smearing today.

I really wanted to be with Jonathan right now. I knew the groom’s tent was adjacent to the bride’s tent. I knew that if I asked for him, I’d get fussed at. I didn’t understand what the big deal was about seeing the bride in her dress before the ceremony. He was going to be my family. I wanted him.

I sneaked a peek out the side door of the tent. There were only service workers on this side, running flower arrangements and gauzy bows to the seating area. Farther away was the kitchen tent. Already, yummy smells were wafting their way to me on the cool breeze. I could see the side entrance to the groom’s tent from where I was. Would anyone try to stop me?

Padding along in my comfy flats—thank God I had been able to stick up for them against Jane’s pick of mile-high strappy stilettos—I arrived at the side door and poked my head inside.

“Look, divorce isn’t that big of a deal anymore,” Brock was saying. “If it doesn’t work out, I’m just saying that you have plenty of options.”

“You’re so fucking morbid, man,” Jonathan said. “I’m not worried that it’s not going to work out. This is the real deal. I’ve just got nerves, is all. Now, shut the fuck up and pour me a drink.”

I ducked away as Brock walked to another side of the tent, then poked my head back in.

“Hey,” I stage whispered.

Jonathan looked up immediately and brightened up considerably. He gave a quick glance in Brock’s direction before hurrying over to the door.

“Where you going, man?” Brock asked.

“Fuck off for a while,” Jonathan said over his shoulder. “I’ll be back.”

Then, he was out of the tent, and we were safe on the service side of the wedding. We got a few sidelong glances, but no one told us anything.

“What are you doing here, baby?” Jonathan asked, looking at me up and down, his eyes wide. “You’re so beautiful.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself,” I said, smiling at his bowtie. He looked so good in a tuxedo. “I just wanted to see you.”

“They say it’s bad luck,” Jonathan teased, kissing me lightly.

“I wanted to be with you,” I said. “You’re all that matters to me. Bad luck can go right to hell.”

“Language, my future Mrs. Wharton,” he chided, kissing me again.

“So, thinking about a divorce already?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Ugh, you heard that?” Jonathan asked. “Fucking Brock. Thank you for saving me from him.”

“He’s a charmer, that one,” I laughed.

Jonathan held me in his arms and kissed me again. “I think he’s mostly harmless,” he said. “You look beautiful in that dress. But can I confess something?”

“Anything.”

“I can’t wait to get it off of you once this is all over.”

“My husband, the romantic,” I mocked, rolling my eyes at him.

There were some faint strains of music coming from the kitchen tent, and we danced a little bit to them, pressing our torsos together, our hearts beating as one.

“I know what we should do,” Jonathan murmured, kissing my hair.

“Oh? Do tell.”

“We should run away,” he said, twirling me around slowly.

“Run away from our own wedding?” I asked, laughing. “You have my attention.”

“We’ll kidnap a priest or a judge or someone,” Jonathan continued, taking me in his arms again and rocking me slowly in time to the music drifting across the field.

“Go on.”

“And we’ll take them to the cottage,” he finished. “Get them to marry us there. Skip all of this bullshit. You’re in my arms and my heart, Michelle. The rest of this is just a formality. Just a little legal muscle to make it all kosher.”

“I’ve felt like that from the beginning,” I said, “when you first asked me to marry you there at the cottage. You never even had to give me this ring. You’ve had all of me from the very start, Jon.”

This, I told myself as we held each other close. This was why I was doing everything, jumping through all these hoops to try to please Amelia and do all the things regular brides were supposed to do. I just wanted to be with Jonathan. If making his family happy was part of that, then that was what I was going to do. He was the perfect man. I could never imagine loving anyone nearly as much as I loved him.

“You scandalous bitches!” Jane screeched from the bridal tent. “Just wait until I tell Mom!”

Jonathan and I parted, though it was difficult.

“You better not tell Mom!” Jonathan warned, shaking his fist at his sister. “I’ll tell her you were drunk before the ceremony!”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Jane said, crossing her arms over her ample bosom.

“Just like you wouldn’t dare to tell her that her precious wedding superstitions have been stepped on,” Jonathan said. “Behave yourself.”

“Likewise,” Jane said, tipping an imaginary hat at him.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Jonathan said, kissing me one more time.

“I’ll see you out there,” I said, smiling at him. Butterflies were fluttering around in my stomach, but they had nothing to do with marrying the man who was standing in front of me. I was already his, mind, body, and soul. We just had to get through the ceremony and reception now.

“I can’t believe the balls on you,” Jane said as I rejoined her in the tent, clearly delighted by the scandal.

“You’re not the first person to admire my balls,” I told her, thinking back on Brock. She must’ve gotten the expression from him.

“Everyone decent in there?” Collier called. “It’s time.”

“We’re ready,” Jane said, her grin loose and easy. She really was drunk. How did she pull it off all the time?

Outside of the tent, Brock took Jane’s hand and placed it in his arm.

“You’re not going to fall on your face, are you?” he asked, peering at her. “You need to make me look good for the ladies.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jane said. “Take me to the altar, lover boy.”

They started walking on the winding carpet that would take them the tent where the ceremony and reception would take place. It was my understanding that guests were already seated at tables and would watch from there.

“Are you ready, Michelle?” Collier asked, smiling at me. “I realize that Jane doesn’t speak for all of us.”

“I’m definitely ready,” I said, smiling back and taking the arm he offered me.

“You look stunning,” he said. “But I’m sure it has more to do with the beauty you always carry in your heart and less with Rowan.”

“You’re kind to say so.”

We began the long, winding walk to the tent. As we got closer, I could hear the classical piece the band was playing. Amelia had really gotten her choice of everything. I didn’t know what song I would’ve picked, but it probably wouldn’t have been whatever they were playing.

“Last chance to run screaming away from all of this insanity,” Collier said, only half joking.

“I love Jonathan,” I said. “If this is what has to happen, this is what I’ll do.”

“You should’ve seen my wedding,” Collier said. “It was probably twice this size. Jonathan’s been leaning on his mother to tamp it down. You see how well it’s been working.”

We entered the tent, where hundreds of people were seated at tables swathed in white gauze. Strings of lights dangled from the ceiling of the tent, simulating glowing raindrops. Collier and I made our way to the dais at the front. I could see Jane and Brock had already taken their places, and Jonathan was waiting for me.

I was suddenly eager to be by his side, but forced myself to follow Collier’s measured march.

“I’ve never seen Jonathan so happy with anyone,” Collier told me. “Not even when he had his memories. That’s why I know this is right.”

“It feels right to me, too,” I said, giving Collier’s arm a squeeze. “And thank you for walking me down the aisle. It—it means a lot.”

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way,” he said, patting my hand, and then it was me who cried.

As we passed through the tables, the attendees gasped, snapping photos and taking videos of me on their smart phones. I didn’t even care if they were gasping at my scar or my dress choice or my hair. I only had eyes for Jonathan, and his smile grew broader and broader the closer I got to the dais.

“This is the point when I’m supposed to give you away,” Collier said, pausing at the bottom of the steps. “But you’re a strong woman, Michelle. I just feel so thankful that you decided to give your heart to my son.”

“Thank you,” I said, kissing him on his cheek.

I walked the steps of the dais alone before Jonathan took my arm and guided me to stand in front of him.

“I heard you guys already got a sneak peek of each other,” Brock hissed, winking. “The scandal!”

“Can you blame me?” Jonathan asked, beaming at me.

The reverend called everyone to stand and began the ceremony. It was so hard to focus on the words with all those eyes dissecting me, so I let the intonations just wash over me, staying steady by looking deeply into Jonathan’s eyes. He never looked away, not even when the reverend asked him to read his vows.

“You are my past, present, and future,” Jonathan said. I was so glad he chose those words. When I’d first heard them, they had solidified our commitment to each other. Now, Jonathan was telling the world how he felt about me. It was such a powerful moment.

“I look forward to making even more memories at your side,” he continued, squeezing my hands. “And wherever life may take us, I know we will face it together.”

At a quiet prompting from the reverend, I cleared my throat to recite my own vows.

“When I found you, I found myself,” I said. “And ever since we’ve been together, I’ve known that I’ll never be lost again. I can’t wait to take on the adventures life has in store for us.”

Jonathan’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, and I don’t think either of us listened to the rest of what the reverend had to say. In the tent with hundreds of other people, there was only us.

And when we kissed, sailing through the last hoop we had to jump, everyone applauded. I lost myself on Jonathan’s lips, hardly believing how far we’d come. We were husband and wife—finally—after almost a year since he’d first asked me in the field by the cottage. I remembered the bouquet of wildflowers he’d presented me with when he asked the question. I never would’ve imagined this was how everything would happen.