Page 69 of One Night Bride
“Jeez, Dad. You’re scaring the poor puppy.”
“Nobody Frenches my wife but me,” Dad explained.
“Ew. Please stop.” I moved into the house, grimacing at the topic of conversation. Leave it to my parents to still embarrass me at twenty-four years old. I could hear Remington chuckling as he came into the living room with me.
We all sat down and Mom asked to hold Bear. I was glad for a break so I could explain why we were here.
“So. Remington. I invited us over to have dinner with my parents as the last part of our date. We’ll be having a very special guest.” I paused for dramatic effect. “A wedding planner!” I gave him jazz hands, hoping he’d find the same joy I did in planning an actual wedding for us.
He nodded, but frowned and looked down at his hands.
“What?” I said, putting my hands down lamely. “You don’t want a big wedding? That’s okay. We can keep it small.”
His head popped back up and he was grinning, obviously just teasing me. “Nah. I think we can go as big as you want. I was thinking that I got here in the nick of time.”
Now it was my turn to frown. “What do you mean?”
“I called your parents yesterday to come talk to them today at five.” He tilted his head at Dad. “I just asked for your dad’s permission to marry you.”
My heart melted even as the irony of doing everything backward hit me. I held up my hand, the one that already sported his engagement ring. “I don’t think you actually got here in the nick of time.”
“That’s what I said,” Dad muttered. Mom backhanded his arm.
Remington waved a hand through the air. “We went over all that Nevada stuff. This is for real, though. And your dad said yes.”
Mom stood from her chair and held Bear up like Mufasa in Lion King, her excitement palpable. “Let’s plan a wedding!”
Dad waved a hand at Remy. “While they do that, you and I can discuss a disturbing video of you in a Speedo I just had forwarded to me.”
29
Esme
“Why must you girls push me like this? You could have given me a whole year to plan this wedding instead of three piddly months. You’re already technically married, you know. What’s a few more months?” Mom kept the complaints coming as she bustled about the room, fussing with Vee’s hair, finding my white leather cowboy boots that had somehow been kicked under the table laden with makeup and hair tools, and barking at the wedding coordinator about why the flowers hadn’t arrived yet.
“Just be glad we’re even doing a wedding,” I reminded her, looking over at Amelia, who ducked her head and focused on breastfeeding Lily. She and Titus had eloped to Vegas. Mom had not been pleased.
But none of her drama could touch me. I was in a bubble of zen that couldn’t be touched by pedestrian things like flowers or guilt trips. There was something beautiful about getting ready for your wedding in the bedroom you grew up in, surrounded by sisters and a lifetime of love. Ready to walk down the aisle to the one man who could make me gladly change my life into something I hadn’t even dared to dream of.
“I have never seen a more beautiful bride,” Julie said, smoothing the skirt that barely trailed behind me on the carpet. The delicate lace on my dress hugged my shape perfectly before fanning out into a mermaid skirt. “And I’ve never been happier to finally get a daughter.”
Remington’s mom smiled at me with such love in her eyes, despite the fact we’d lied to her at the start. Her hair was curled, and she had a silver sheath dress on with a wrap around her shoulders. The woman cleaned up well, that was for sure.
“You’re going to make me ruin my makeup,” I replied, sniffling.
“Don’t you dare!” Vee yelled, running over and fanning my face. She’d spent over an hour applying my makeup. “My cat eye is so dope.”
“English, Vee!” Mom hollered as she took Lily from Amelia and put a burp cloth on her shoulder.
Vee made a funny face and ran to get the door when someone knocked on it. “Flowers are here!”
She passed out the bouquets, ending with mine. I stood holding it in front of the mirror and realized I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. The idea of marriage had put some speed bumps in my road, but once I’d straightened out my business, everything fell right into place. I was still coaching, but my message was now about accepting all parts of yourself and using those talents to build whatever life you wanted.
“Oh Lord, you’re perfect,” Mom said on a sob, shifting back and forth with the baby. Despite the tears, Mom was in heaven. A grandbaby on her shoulder and another daughter about to walk down the aisle.
“Let’s go marry my cowboy, huh?” I grabbed a handful of skirt, hightailed it out of the room and down the stairs while Mom yelled about not ruining my dress.
A peek out the back window of Mom and Dad’s house showed the green lawn filled with friends and family and six straight rows of white wooden chairs. A riot of flowers filled the aisle and the arch that waited at the end of the yard. Wyatt, Ruger, and Killam, Remington’s groomsmen, filed out to stand by the arch. And then there was Remington. The sight of him in a formal black suit and a cowboy hat made me gasp.
