Page 126 of The Billionaire's Bride
"She texts me most weeks. Why she can't just pick up the phone and call me, I don’t know. She doesn‘t answer when I call, just texts me back, which is really strange. I messaged her to tell her that I'll be coming over there if she didn't visit me soon, to which she didn't reply." Summer scowls, "I mean, meeting someone who sweeps you off your feet is all well and good, but what the hell is so pressing that she hasn’t come back to visit even once in all this time?"
"Maybe he’s possessive?" I chuckle. "He doesn’t want to let her out of his sight."
"Don’t we know all about that?" Summer rolls her eyes. "If you think Barons’ bad now, wait until you get pregnant. He’ll chain you to his side."
There’s a knock on the door, then Julia walks in. In her hands is a bouquet of cascading greens. She offers me the bunch of eucalyptus, ferns and sage.
"Wow," I gaze at it, "it’s beautiful. It’s exactly what I would have chosen for myself." I had been so preoccupied with everything else, I had forgotten about the bouquet. "Thank you so much," I cry as I reach for the bouquet.
"Thank your husband to-be." Julia laughs, "He had this ordered especially for you. Clearly, he knows you well."
The blood rushes to my cheeks. I bring the bouquet up to my nose and sniff at it. "I think I am going to cry," I sniff.
"Don’t you dare," Summer admonishes, "don’t want to spoil your make up, now do you?"
Just then Amelie pops her head in, "There you are." She smiles at Summer, "Your man’s been looking for you."
"I saw him, not ten minutes ago," Summer mutters.
"Yeah, but the Seven." Amelie chuckles.
"The bloody Seven." Summer laughs as she rises to her feet, "Speaking of, it’s time for you to officially join our collective." Summer grins. She walks over, taking my hands in hers, "You ready?"
I weave my hand through my father’s arm, and clutch my bouquet of cascading greens.
"You look beautiful," my father says as he places his palm over mine.
I blink away the tears that his softly spoken words elicit… Christ, what’s it with me and the waterworks? "Thank you for being here with me, Daddy." I sniff, "And after how horrible I was to you."
"You know, you could say anything to me and I’d never take offense." My father pats my hand, "It’s a child’s prerogative to say what’s on your mind, and it’s a parent’s prerogative to forgive."
"Oh, Dad," I glance up at him, "I was so wrong to judge you. I understand now that it’s possible to love two people. Ma was your past and Lina is your future. I get it now."
"You’ve grown up, Ava." My father glances down at me, his eyes shining., "My little girl is a woman, ready to start her new life."
"You’re going to make me cry," I sniffle.
"Oh, no." He beams down at me, "No tears today, only smiles."
Isla gestures to us that it’s time to walk down the aisle. I draw in a breath, as my father leads me onto the garden path.
We’d decided to marry in the picturesque backyard of the Sterling’s home, with the slopes of Primrose Hill, stretching out before us. We'd also decided to exchange vows in front of our friends and family and without having anyone officiate the wedding.
I glance up and my gaze collides with Baron’s searing blue ones. The connection is instant. Electrifying and sexual, caring and full of those emotions he seems to carry under that hard exterior of his.
We reach him and my father places my hand in his. Baron brings it up to his lips and brushes his mouth across my knuckles. I shiver. His lips curve against my skin and his gaze intensifies as he stares deeply into my eyes. My thighs clench and my palms grow sweaty. I part my lips and his gaze drops to my mouth.
I blush. Baron smirks. He moves away, but doesn’t release my hand. I lift my chin up, hold his gaze as we exchange our vows.
Then Baron grasps both of my hands in his. He leans down as I tip my head up. He gazes into my eyes, and in his blue ones, I see that unsaid emotion again. His irises deepen, until they seem almost azure in color. He lowers his lips to mine. "I love you," he whispers, then kisses me.
I pause my conversaton with Raisa to glance around at the faces of my friends and family. Saint stands with one arm around Victoria, the palm of his other hand on her five-month pregnant belly. Amelie leans into Weston as she converses with Victoria. The two men gaze down at their wives, looks of such adoration on their faces, that honestly, if I hadn’t seen it for myself, I’d have never guessed that they could be such alphaholes.
The doors to the house are flung open to reveal a piano, with Damian seated at it. He plays the keys and the notes float across the distance. I watch as Julia leans a hip against the piano, then leans over to kiss him.
Meredith, assistant to the Seven, and in many ways a guardian to all of them when they were younger, looks on with a smile on her face. Next to her is Peter, Sinclair's chauffeur and Meredith's now fiancé. That’s the thing with the Seven. Despite being gazillionaires, none of them allow class or economic status to define what they are or who their friends should be.
Arpad and Karina are seated at a table, engaged in an animated conversation. Summer and Sinclair stand nearby, their arms around each other.
