Page 46 of Ripple Effect
My breath catches as Iris disappears around the corner of the house, the long curls we left out of her updo being picked up in the breeze.
Dad and I move forward. “All this for a trip to Grand Cayman? Sure it’s worth it?” he jokes.
“It’s nice to see where I get my sense of humor,” I jibe back.
“Well, Josh is just like your mother, so it makes sense,” he muses.
I tip my head toward him and grin. “Plan on embarrassing me during the speech?”
“Maybe. Is it enough to get you to change your mind—maybe stay my little girl for another twenty years or so?”
“Daddy.” The tightening of my arm brings me closer to his side. “I’ll always be your little girl.”
We turn the corner of the house just as the music changes. “No, sweetheart,” he begins. The crowd gasps, but it’s Cal I search for. His jaw is unhinged and working up and down. As my father begins walking me up the silk-covered aisle, Cal finally regains some of his aplomb. “It’s time for you to become Cal’s.”
I feel like my skin is being electrocuted with little shocks by the way he’s looking at me. It’s a heady combination of love, awe, and possessiveness I’ll never forget.
When we get to the end of the aisle, Dad places my hand in Cal’s and says, “Her mother and I do,” in response to the minister’s question about who’s giving me away, before lifting my veil long enough to kiss me on the cheek.
But that moment is all I need to glance at Cal. When I do, I’m shocked to see the veil hid the fact his eyes are swimming in tears that have yet to fall.
Nerves settled, I squeeze his fingers and turn my face to the daylight as my heart blooms with happiness.
30
Calhoun
Wedding Day - Eleven Years Ago from Present Day
“I, Elizabeth Dahlia Akin, take you, Calhoun Sullivan, to be my lawfully wedded husband…” Libby repeats the vows she said earlier in my ear as we slow dance to yet another song under the string of lights at the estate. “I think those might be some of my favorite words ever.”
Twisting my head, I capture her lips in a long thorough kiss. “And that’s just a preview. I can’t wait to drag your sweet ass out of here to do much more.”
“Promises, promises.”
“I’ll give you promises,” I whisper against her neck.
“Will you?” Her voice has a heartbreaking ache to it that pulls at my gut. Dragging my lips up the column of her exposed neck, I brush her lips with mine.
“Will I what?”
“Will you give me a promise?”
“Anything you want, Libby. You don’t even have to ask.”
“Promise me this is forever.” She bites down on her lower lip.
My thumb eases it out of the way before I soothe it with my tongue. “I promise you, Libby. Here, now, in front of the people who love you, love us, I will always be yours. After all, I’ve been yours for the last four years.”
Her brow furrows. “But we’ve only been a couple for just over one.”
Just by opening myself up, I give her a wedding present that far surpasses the diamonds glinting at her ears. “Baby, from the minute I asked you out, I’ve been yours. All of this was just a formality.”
Libby stops moving in the middle of the dance floor. Couples are jostling us from either side, but neither of us are moving. I slide my hands up the tight-fitting bodice of her wedding gown until my thumbs rest just under her breasts. Reassuring myself she’s still breathing, I whisper, “Libby?”
Shaking herself, she whispers, “I will always be yours,” right before someone leans on the breaker that plunges us all into darkness. Women begin shrieking in high-pitched voices while men try to calm them down.
But my Libby? She just laughs, pulls me close, and says, “I’ll take that as Nonna’s sign to make out with my husband.”
