Page 106 of Knocked Up in Alaska

Epilogue

One month later

“I do.”

Ford’s two-word response washed over Lilah as she stood with him before the big, stone fireplace in the lobby of the inn and stared up into his bottomless brown eyes. Between them, Hoop, newly retired from her law practice and newly ordained to officiate weddings, posed a question to her.

“Do you, Delila Iquat, take Ford Langley to be your lawfully wedded spouse, to have and to hold from this day forward, for the rest of your life?”

She smiled into his handsome, solemn face. “I do.”

His faint, default smile snuck over his face, and she wondered how he could have felt a moment’s doubt. Could anyone say no to him?

Hoop droned on about powers vested in her by the state while she lost herself in the warm velvet of his gaze. “You may kiss the bride,” permeated that blissful haze a moment before he lowered his lips to hers and did, indeed, kiss his bride. And kiss her. And keep it up until the onlookers clapped and cheered, and over it all, Jorg called, “No more ogift is our Ford!”

With her heart beating fast, and a flush heating her cheeks, she drew back and grinned at him. “Next,” she called, and as planned, Mia handed Shayla into her arms. She lifted her daughter, so impossibly cute in her flouncy white dress, toward Ford.

“I do,” he repeated and kissed Shayla’s chubby cheek loudly so she giggled with delight. “Next,” he called, and Hoop nudged an unsuspecting Mia between Ford and Lilah—also impossibly cute in a not-so-flouncy white slip dress that guaranteed poor Louis couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Lilah winked at her before saying, “I do!” Then she leaned in and planted a big, sloppy kiss on Mia’s cheek.

“Oh my God. Oh, no. Geez,” she added when Ford smooched her other cheek. “Okay, okay, okay, I do! I do, too. I swear!”

“Good,” Lilah murmured and handed Shayla over to the laughing teen. “Because now you’re real sisters.”

“Yeah.” Mia smirked. “And you’re the stepmom of a teenager.”

“Not worried,” she replied. “I’m going to get the low-down from your mom.” She tipped her head to where Jen—who looked exactly the same as the picture in Ford’s wallet other than an updated hairstyle—and Barry—who did, for real, look like John Cena—stood in the second row of their small group of guests.

“Ready?” Ford asked and tightened his fingers around hers in their joined hands.

“Ready,” she confirmed, and after another quick kiss, they ran the short gauntlet down the white-draped center aisle while friends and family blew bubbles across their path from both sides.

After a detour for pictures, they joined the reception in full swing at The Goose. Toasts were made. Dances danced—with Trace, Archer, Wing, Mad, and a surprisingly energetic and dizzying turn around the entire bar with Jorg while “Uptown Funk” poured from the jukebox. When the song changed to “One Man Band,” a pair of steady hands took her by the waist and swung her into a big, sturdy chest. “Back off, old man.” Ford winked at her. “I’m claiming this dance with my wife.”

When he pulled her closer, she linked her hands behind his neck and smiled up at him. “Fine, but I’m claiming the next dance with my husband. A private dance, I’m thinking, up in the honeymoon suite.”

Lowering his mouth to her ear, he said, “Fine by me, but have you cleared it with that wedding planner you hired?” Before she could answer, he turned them, so she saw her mother, in Ray’s arms, making their way purposefully across the dance floor.

“Everything is going well,” Rose said, then added an uncharacteristic, “Don’t you think?”

“It’s perfect, Mom.” For whatever reason, her mother was jumpy, or stressed, or…something. She’d been that way for the last several days, as if she’d absorbed all the wedding jitters that had completely eluded Lilah. “Just perfect,” she reiterated as she glanced around the bar.

The Goose didn’t normally run to fancy attire, but their friends cleaned up nice. The ladies shined in dresses and heels, and the men looked broad-shouldered and handsome in their suits—even Louis, who tended to tug at his tie, as he did while she watched him dance with Mia. The move prompted Mia to straighten it for him, which got her hands on him and brought an adorable blush to his cheeks. Behind them, Archer pulled Bridget in for a kiss. Wow. A really good kiss. Then he whispered something in her ear. She had no idea what he’d said, but by the time he was done, it was Bridget blushing adorably. Trace and Izzy swayed together at the edge of the dance floor, talking and snuggling, with one of Trace’s huge hands splayed across her still not discernably pregnant stomach.

“Everybody’s having fun,” she told her mom. “Might be the right time for Ford and me to sneak off, as long as you’re still good looking after Shayla tonight?”

Before her mother could answer, Ray slid in with a grin. “Not so fast. You still have to toss the bouquet.”

“Oh. Well…sure. I could do that after this song, right?”

“Hmm?” Her mother was too busy giving Ray a funny look.

“Should I do the bouquet toss now?”

“Bouquet toss?” Her mother visibly pulled her attention back to the reception. “I—Yes. Fine. Good idea. Go up to the bar. I’ll get your flowers.”

When Rose rushed off, Ray turned his smile to them, shook Ford’s hand, then hers. “Congratulations.”

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