Page 78 of Anything For This Love

The next severalmonths are the most hectic of my life. As soon as the press hears of my engagement, they go nuts. The gossip blogs run stories almost daily for weeks. They speculate on my relationship with Abby, wondering if she’s pregnant again and if I’ll make her move closer to D.C. so we can be with my family. They’re so far off, it’s comical. We turn down nearly a dozen requests for interviews, not willing to share our private lives with anybody. If it wasn’t for Dad’s campaign, I doubt there’d be much interest in our engagement, but with my family in the national spotlight, everyone wants to know about our love story.

My mother cries when I tell her, happy tears coursing down her face. Overcome with emotion, she pulls me in for a hug and tells me she’s proud of me and that she’s relieved Abby said yes. She admits she was afraid Abby would be reluctant to marry me and become part of our family because of what she did to her. I don’t tell her that I’d shared her concerns. She’s trying so hard to make up for her mistakes and I believe she truly cares for Abby now. There’s no reason to rub salt in that wound.

As soon as her cheeks are dry, she goes into planning mode, begging us to let her help with the engagement party. Abby agrees reluctantly, her faith yet to be fully restored, but she sets aside her doubt to let my mother be a part of our special moment. Ever since Christmas when my mother passed Peyton’s beloved book collection to Chloe, they’ve begun mending their relationship. Right away, we have to set some limits for my mother so she doesn’t plan anything too ostentatious. We allow her to book a small venue in Arlington for the party. She and Abby agree that since we plan on marrying closer to Abby’s home, it’s only fair that I have part of our celebration in my hometown. Besides, it’s more my friends’ and family’s speed than it is hers.

A couple months later, Abby’s close friends and family make the long drive to be with us for the celebration. My house isn’t big enough to accommodate all our guests, so we book several rooms for them to stay the weekend at the hotel where the party takes place.

It’s late July when Abby dons a pale pink cocktail dress with rose gold sequins adorning the top in a crisscross pattern and walks arm-in-arm with me into a room filled with people ready to celebrate our upcoming union. Our friends and family cheer when the large double doors swing open and we step inside. White flowers and rose gold balloons adorn the tables and walls as soft music plays in the background. Our loved ones greet us and offer their congratulations with hugs and handshakes.

All of Abby’s close relatives are in attendance, including her grandparents on her dad’s side, whom I’ve met only one other time. They’ve been reluctant to give up their poor opinion of me and accept what truly happened between me and Abby what feels like a lifetime ago, but a visit to them this summer changed all that. I’m glad to have them here offering Abby support.

A young man with glacial blue eyes and close-cropped copper hair approaches Abby and she gasps, throwing her arms around his neck. His sharp features and broad build give him away and I know who he is before she says his name. He’s the spitting image of his dad with his mom’s hair.

“Waylon!” Abby croons.

Roselyn and Phil’s son turns to me and sticks out his hand. “I’m Abby’s cousin, Waylon. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

I take his proffered hand and we shake, his grip firm and commanding.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” My back straightens and I brace myself for what he has to say next. I’m sure not everything he’s heard has been good and I don’t want to be on the bad side of a man his size with the kind of training the U.S. military has given him. “I’m glad not all of it was true and that you two were able to work things out.” A teasing grin curves the edges of his lips and I let out a low chuckle. I really thought he was going to bust my balls.

“So am I.”

“Is my son behaving himself?” Ros asks, stepping up next to him.

“Of course. How could you question it?” he retorts.

She gazes at her son adoringly before turning back to us. Since he’s an active duty Marine, she doesn't get to see him much, and it’s apparent that she misses him dearly. Returning her focus to us, she leans in and kisses Abby’s cheek. “You look lovely, dear. I’m so happy for you both.”

“Thank you,” we reply in unison. Phil takes his turn kissing Abby’s cheek and shaking my hand before the three leave to sit with Abby’s grandparents.

We mingle with our guests, the wine and laughter flowing freely throughout the night. It’s nearly midnight when we finally make it back to my brownstone. When we started renovations on the farmhouse, I mentioned selling it once we moved in and I was settled with my new job, but Abby asked if we could afford to keep it. She wanted us to have somewhere to stay in the city when we come back for a visit. Since it was doable, I happily agreed.

Eleanor glances at us over the rim of her classy, black framed glasses when we enter the foyer, the house silent and still. She’s perched in an armchair with a hardback in her hands. She slips her bookmark into place and gently closes the tome.

“How was it?” she asks, standing as we approach. Since there were no children at the party, she stayed back to watch Chloe for us.

“It was great!” Abby replies with elated sincerity. “I got to meet Jacob’s grandparents and all my family was there. Tiff even came in, although she has to fly out really early tomorrow to get back in time for work. She’s doing the makeup for a country singer’s baby shower tomorrow.” Abby beams with pride. Her friend turned her passion for style into a dream career. Tiff’s client list continues to grow as she takes on more celebrities.

“That sounds wonderful.”

We bid her farewell and I turn toward my fiancé as soon as Nell's car pulls away from the curb. “Come here, you.” I motion her to me with a crook of my finger and she backs away, mischief glinting in her eyes. “So you’re gonna play hard to get, eh?”

A devious grin curls her lips and she takes another step back. I bound forward and she lets out a squeal of surprise as she darts for the stairs, but I catch her before her foot reaches the bottom step. Twirling her around, I crouch and settle her stomach on my shoulder before standing straight again. I carry her up the stairs to our room, stopping just outside the door. Pulling her down from my shoulder, I cradle her with one arm hooked under her knees and the other supporting her back.

“What are you doing?” She’s breathless from me bouncing up the steps with her belly pressed to my shoulder.

“Practicing for the moment I carry you across the threshold.” Her eyes soften and she smiles sweetly. Unable to resist the urge, I lean in and kiss her, swiping at her bottom lip with my tongue.

“In that case, we need to practice consummating our marriage as well,” she replies, quirking a brow. “We wanna make sure we get it right.”

“I plan on practicing that until we’ve perfected it.”

I carry her to the bed. She giggles when I toss her onto the mattress, but the high-pitched sound turns into deep, throaty moans when I sink down on top of her and bring her bottom lip between my teeth. The room fills with the sound of our kisses and her soft sighs. I worship her body until we both collapse, spent and satiated before falling asleep with our limbs entangled.

Chapter Thirty-Three

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