CHAPTER19
Peyton:
Two years later
It was a warm evening in late August. I stood on the dock waiting for my bride and her father to walk down the aisle. Sitting in the front row were my parents and Chloe’s mother. Behind them were my brothers and sisters.
We gave her parents six months’ notice for our wedding. We did it in person. Chloe and I flew to South America and spent a week in a remote village off the grid.
No cell phones, internet, or basic comforts, like an indoor bathroom. It was camping at its purest. Chloe introduced us over the internet. She tried to connect with them four times a year. However, I was excited to meet them face to face. She never spoke ill of them, but there wasn’t the close relationship I’d had with mine. Then again, no family could compete with my parents.
The visit was to emphasize the importance of them not missing another of Chloe’s milestones. I learned long ago that the way to reach Chloe’s parents was through their work. Therefore having the wedding on Lighthouse Island worked in our favor.
The lighthouse was built by the government to serve as a military outpost. Richard and Mackenzie Van de Graaf transformed the once deserted island into a famous tourist attraction. Chloe’s parents were intrigued by the story of the island’s origins. As long as Chloe had her parents present, I didn’t care what motivated them to accept our invitation.
We kept the wedding small and turned it into a family vacation. It was a great opportunity for our parents to meet and get to know each other. Chloe and I moved into the honeymoon cabin immediately.
I’d spent my fair share of vacations and holidays on Lighthouse Island. Aleksander and Richard were friends from childhood. I considered him an uncle, though we shared no blood. I’d learned early that blood did not make a family. Love, commitment, and caring did.
I’d seen many changes to the island since its transformation. One was the honeymoon cabin. It had been a single room with a bed and nightstand. The wash station consisted of a basin and jug of water. It had only been used by the newly married couple on their first night as husband and wife. Two rooms had since been added, a galley kitchen and a bathroom. Now the honeymooners could remain in the cabin for the entirety of their stay.
A warm breeze ruffled my untucked shirt. It carried a scent I recognized, and like Pavlov’s dog, my dick took this moment to come alive. It also told me that my bride was close by.
Our best friend Monica was the officiant. She would also serve as the best man, maid of honor, and ring bearer. She nodded her head, and the wedding march began. I watched the woman who captured my heart make her way down the stone path.
Chloe had gone dress shopping with my mother and my sisters. Her mother had joined them via the internet. I was warned it was bad luck to see the dress before the wedding. Therefore, my sisters kept it hidden at my parent’s house to ensure I didn’t let my curiosity get the better of me and try to take a peek.
When we discussed our wedding, Chloe confided she was never one of those little girls who dreamt of the big wedding with the princess-style dress and Prince Charming waiting at the end of the aisle. I told her she could show up in a potato sack and I would still find her the most beautiful woman on the planet. We did agree to do a traditional ceremony, which included Chloe wearing a veil and her father offering her hand in marriage, a tradition Monica called archaic and ranted about the meaning behind the gestures. Both of which made me and Chloe chuckle.
My sisters whisked Chloe away shortly after lunch. I couldn’t understand why they thought she needed that much time to get ready. She was a minimalist. She spent her days scavenging for first edition or unique books. I was more likely to see Chloe covered in dust rather than caked in makeup.
However, when my bride made her way toward me, my lungs ceased to function. The long gown skimmed her ankles. The breeze from the ocean made the gauzy fabric flutter around her like a goddess. But the minute her father lifted her veil and gave me her hand, my heart stopped.
Chloe was a beautiful woman inside and out. However, my sisters transformed Chloe into an ethereal angel. Her luscious chestnut hair hung in loose waves that surrounded her cherub cheeks. Her blue eyes glittered with happiness and love. Her sun-kissed face needed nothing but a light dusting of pink on her cheeks and lips.
Chloe released her bouquet of wildflowers into the wind. They would organically compost and their seeds would reproduce.
As Chloe and I faced each other and repeated the traditional vows we’d chosen, my smile never left my face.
When Monica announced, you may kiss your bride, I bent Chloe back and gave her a kiss that would make my parents proud and hers blush.
We choose to have the wedding at the end of our vacation instead of the beginning. It would be an early night as everyone was heading home in the morning. We had our wedding dinner at the rehearsal last night. All we planned for this evening were a few toasts and the cutting of the wedding cake.
With the congratulations and goodbyes out of the way, it was time to spend our first night together as husband and wife.
We’d been living together for two years. Not much would change once we returned home.
The one thing we had hoped to change was our family.
“Are you ready to get started on making a baby?” I asked, bemused.
Chloe bit her plump, pink bottom lip. “I think I can get on board with that. But you’ll have to help me undress.” She turned her back to me. I saw a long trail of tiny pearls from the nape of her neck to the top of her tailbone. Now I understood why she needed my sisters’ help getting dressed.
I was slightly concerned my large clumsy hands would falter. But I was never one to back down from a challenge.
As I undid the small buttons, one by one, goosebumps peppered Chloe’s exposed back.
“Are you cold?” I asked.