You're Mine ~ A Sweet & Steamy Romance

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You're Mine ~ A Sweet & Steamy Romance Page 14

by Stella Eromonsere-Ajanaku


  Banjo whistled for so long, she wondered if he intended to compose a song. Tinu grinned and Olivia hopped about to the tune.

  “Where’s Tybee Island?” asked Olivia after she realized she had no clue where the wedding was going to be held.

  “In Georgia, near Savannah in the United States of America. It’s a magical island with lovely people. You’ll love it.”

  Olivia’s eyes sparkled with sharp interest. “I’ve never been to America.”

  “Time to travel then,” Rachael said with wink.

  “Dad, can I go with you for the wedding?”

  “I don’t see why not. If I’m going, you can come along too.”

  Rachael struggled not to chuckle. It was only last night her mom insisted she had to return home for the wedding. And in her heart, she’d always wanted to get married in the Church where she grew up–a place where every member of her family had been baptized, attended weekly Sunday services or got married.

  Banjo plucked up her chin and looked into her eyes. “Are you sure you want to make the long trip?”

  Resting her chin on his palm, Rachael nodded. “My heart definitely wants a home wedding. And this is your chance to meet my extended family. I’m still a southern girl at heart.”

  “I didn’t think otherwise. Then I’ll do anything to give you the wedding of your dreams. I’ll make all the arrangements to fly guests to Georgia.” Turning to his mom, Banjo asked. “How many of our relatives in Nigeria do you want to invite?”

  Anticipation flared in Rachael’s stomach. Just like Banjo had not met her family, she also needed to meet his other family members. She wondered if they would approve of her.

  “At least twenty,” Tinu said from the top of her head. “Maybe a few more. But not less.”

  “Good. When you confirm with them, get me their names and details, I’ll book the flights.”

  “Amazing news! I’ll get it all in good time,” Tinu promised bouncing along as she set the table.

  Facing Rachael now, Banjo stroked her chin before he leaned across and kissed her lips.

  “Breakfast is ready,” Tinu and Olivia chorused in high-pitch voices as if they had practised it.

  Rachael arched her back to stick her head out of Banjo’s arms. Still, he wrapped one arm around her waist. When he touched her, everyone else faded away and nothing else mattered.

  “Time to eat,” Banjo whispered, brushing her hair away from her eyes. The yearning in his eyes was inimitable. He did not try to mask it in the presence of his mom and daughter. A massive dose of gooey feeling blew through her backbone, melting her insides as they made their way to the dining area.

  “Dad looks like he wants to eat you for breakfast,” Olivia announced, pushing a plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs and beef sausages in front of Rachael.

  Everyone gurgled with laughter. Rachael grimaced, unable to hold back the flash of discomfort that travelled to her stitched skin. Banjo who sat beside Rachael, had a grin on his face. The grin turned into a frown when he saw the scowl on Rachael’s face. Only Olivia sat down with a smug look on her pretty, chubby face.

  “Are you okay darling?” Banjo asked, grasping Rachael’s hand.

  After a prolonged pause, Rachael nodded. “Can you stop being so funny all of you? I need to heal without your wisecracks. Olivia?”

  Looking at Rachael with her eyes wide with innocence, Olivia put up both hands. “I’ll try. After our meal, I’ll show you several sites where you can buy everything you need.”

  Swallowing Olivia’s instructions was easy for Rachael. It was refreshing to have a young friend who bossed her around. Who would have counted her lucky enough to have a step-daughter who loved her before they even met?

  “I love your ring very much, Rachael. When I grow up, I’m going to wear one as beautiful as yours,” Olivia carried on, busting Rachael’s muse.

  Banjo grinned at his daughter and Rachael nodded. Tinu carried on eating, completely entertained by her family.

  “We need caterers and I know the right person for the job,” Tinu suggested after breakfast was done. “What kind of food do you want to serve? First, is it a morning or an evening wedding?”

  Rachael and Banjo exchanged a knowing look. Who gets married in the evening, they both wondered.

  Frowning, Olivia cut in. “Nan, I thought weddings took place in the morning.”

  “My thought exactly,” Rachael concurred.

  “Okay, so a morning wedding it is then. Oh yes, a Church wedding for sure. Your mum must make an appointment to see the priest.”

  Banjo and Rachael chuckled. They were amused at the speed with which Tinu and Olivia had taken over their wedding plans since they broke the engagement news to them yesterday.

  “And who’s your Chief Brides Maid, Rachael? Do you have a best friend?” Olivia asked coming up to sit alongside Rachael.

  “There’s only one person in the whole world who deserves such an honour, Olivia,” Rachael replied with a big smile. “Haven’t you met her?”

  Eyes wide with curiosity, Olivia pursed her lips. “Who’s she?”

  “Oh, she has been my rock in the last two years and my best friend. I can’t even count how many times she has picked me up from my dark places. She loves me more than I can ever love her back.”

  Rolling her eyes and looking bored, Olivia gave an exaggerated sighed. “When do we get to the part where you tell us her name?”

  Banjo stared at Rachael, waiting for her to pop the name, while Tinu shunned the winding speech altogether.

  “Her name is Auntie Tinu Ricci, if she would be so inclined to do me the favour.”

  First, Olivia opened her mouth in shock. Then she slapped her arms around Rachael’s neck before she ran to her Nan. “You’re going to be her Chief Brides Maid! That’s so cool, Nan.”

  It took a few seconds for Tinu to get the drift of the announcement. When she finally understood, she embraced her granddaughter and kissed her forehead. Looking over Olivia’s head, she smiled at Rachael, her eyes misty. Too overcome by emotion, Tinu shut her eyes, as she blinked back tears. “I love you,” she said at last when she had swallowed her sobs.

  Moved by her auntie’s response, Rachael added. “Thank you for your love.”

  “My pleasure, darling. I believe as I’m married, my role is dubbed Matron-of Honour.”

  “What about the other bridesmaids?” Olivia coughed up after everyone got over the first surprise.

  “I’ve three of my co-volunteers in mind who would be willing to be my bridesmaids and you will be the fourth bridesmaid, Olivia.”

  To celebrate her very important position in the wedding party, Olivia raced to the kitchen and retrieved the frying pan from the cooker. Singing an unrecognizable karaoke, she banged the pan against every hard surface in the kitchen.

  Everyone cringed at the noise.

  It took all of two minutes for Banjo to run after Olivia to stop her from ruining their eardrums.

  Rid of her noisy instrument, Olivia hopped back to Rachael’s side and pecked her cheek. “Thank you. Can I stand in front of the other bridesmaids?”

  “Of course you can,” Banjo conceded. “Only of you stop banging walls to celebrate.”

  “I promise,” Olivia readily agreed.

  “My friends would willingly pair up with the bridesmaids as their grooms’ men. Only now we have to find a young groom’s man for you, Olivia. I guess Hugh’s six-year-old son would do.”

  Olivia pretended to choke. “I hope he’s taller than me, Dad. I don’t want to stand beside a boy who’s shorter than me.”

  A long chuckle spilled out of Tinu’s lips. “Oh dear, what a diva we’re breeding.”

  Nodding in agreement, Olivia grinned at her Nan with hands akimbo. “I’m a diva, alright.”

  While Rachael and Banjo shook their heads, Olivia took a slow walk back and forth to show off her hip swaying talent.

  Peering at a notebook with a handwritten to-do-list, Tinu said out loud. “Cake a
nd flower arrangements for the Church and reception hall are top priority. How many layers of cake do you want, Rachael?”

  Grinning at Banjo, Rachael raised her eyebrows. “Three, five, seven or more?”

  Laughing at the unfolding reality, Banjo shrugged. “Whatever you want suits me just fine, Boobiebutt.”

  Rachael clasped Banjo’s arm to remind him they were not alone. But it was too late. Olivia and Tinu’s mouths drooped open before they dissolved into a cacophony of laughter.

  “Dad? I’m I allowed to call her that too?” Olivia gave Banjo a mischievous wink.

  “No, Olivia. It’s my pet name for Rachael.” While Rachael squirmed, Banjo grinned.

  Rachael wondered if she had the nerve to call him Nipple Tester when they had company. The thought tickled her nipples and she got the answer to her thoughts. You dare not, her body warned.

  “Five layers would do just fine, my dearest Auntie,” Rachael answered to steer the conversation back to the wedding plans.

  Still wiping moisture from her eyes, Tinu nodded. “Five it is then. And have you thought about the colours for the day?”

  Again Rachael stared at Banjo, who shook his head. “Don’t look at me.”

  “We’ll go for our favourite colours. Red and Olive green.”

  Banjo stroked her skin with his direct gaze. “Thank you,” he whispered.

  Not once had he mentioned his favourite colour. But she had counted his clothing and a particular shade of green was dominant. And she’d concluded in her head that if he was drawn to a specific colour, it must be his preference. The grateful look in his eyes was her reward for being sharp-eyed.

  “I’ve seen the dress I’m going to wear to the wedding,” Olivia informed them in a firm voice. “Dad, I suggest you pay for it today. I don’t want to be disappointed.”

  Banjo looked at his daughter, the shock in his eyes drew laughter from Tinu’s lips. “If I didn’t know when you found out I was getting married, I would have thought you planned this whole thing with a magic wand. A six-year-old wedding planner has everything worked out.”

  As if he had not spoken, Olivia continued. “The dress is a hundred and twenty euros only.”

  Smiling at her granddaughter, Tinu ticked off something on her list. “At least, you know exactly what you want. Have you found your pretty shoes as well?”

  With her hands propped beneath her chin, Rachael grinned. Happiness like never before filled her heart until she thought her chest would split open.

  “I intend to find my shoes soon. Do you think I should get a tiara? I want to look like a princess.” Olivia turned to Rachael, her cheeks a ruby hue.

  “A tiara would be perfect if that’s what you want,” Rachael replied with a nod. “Would you order a veil and a garter too?”

  Olivia was reduced to fits of laughter. “I’m not the one getting married.”

  Banjo grinned. “Oh, for a minute I thought you had found a groom for yourself too.”

  The whole room lit up with the sound of their amusement as the wedding plans were interspersed with banter.

  Seventeen

  Tybee Island, Georgia, USA

  At half nine on 29th September, Banjo stood beside his best man, Hugh, outside All Saints Episcopal Church on Tybee Island. He shook hands with all of Rachael’s six aunties, twenty cousins, many more uncles and her maternal granddad. Dayna, his bride’s mum insisted he should personally thank every member of their family in line with their folks’ tradition.

  He had no problems bowing down a million times before the whole of Georgia’s residents, as long as Rachael appeared in the Church within the next few minutes to declare her vows. Forty-eight hours ago was the last time he saw Rachael and everything in him was desperate to glimpse her smile. When they landed in Georgia a week ago, he’d begged his mum to keep an eye on his bride and to share a room with her in Dayna’s home. There was no way he wanted his wife-to-be fatigued on her big day.

  “Stop pacing,” Hugh whispered when they finally stood at the front of the Church at five minutes before ten.

  “Take one more look behind. Is she at the door?” Banjo wiped a sweaty palm over his brow.

  “I can’t keep looking back. Everyone’s staring.”

  The boisterous Black priest came forward and shook hands with Banjo and Hugh.

  “Don’t worry. Your bride is on her way,” the priest said to allay Banjo’s agitation. “I’ve known her family for decades.”

  “Thank you.” Banjo nodded, but his stomach tightened at the thought Rachael could feel too tired to attend the ceremony.

  The Church bell clanged at exactly ten o’ clock.

  “May we all rise for the bride’s entrance?” The priest’s words should have poured relief into Banjo’s soul, but it only served to heighten his disquiet. Standing ramrod straight with his hands clasped in front of him, Banjo swallowed nervously.

  “She’s here. Keep your eyes forward,” Hugh breathed out.

  Banjo’s throat constricted and he breathed in and out, willing his unease to simmer down. “My legs are shaking.” His words were eaten up by the organ sound.

  Brushing one hand over his brow, Banjo shifted from one foot to another. He swallowed quickly as he wondered what Rachael looked like in her wedding outfit. Rubbing his hands together, he tried to still his uneven pulse rate. Getting married to Rachael had become an obsession in the past few weeks. How long did it take for her to walk from the door to the altar? Then, Rachael’s fragrance floated to his senses and he breathed easier.

  Panic gave way to excitement when Rachael appeared beside him with a lacy, white veil over her face. Innocent. Angelic. Exceedingly Beautiful. He tried not to eat her up with his eyes as tears stung his eyelids.

  “God is love, and those who live in love, live in God and God lives in them,” the minister said to the people gathered in the Church.

  As the clergy carried on with the prayer, Banjo glanced sideways at his bride who sneaked a look at him through her veil. “Absolutely stunning,” he mouthed.

  Rachael smiled, a look of pure glee on her glowing face. The only thought on his mind was to grab her, kiss her and make her his wife in between the sheets. Nothing else mattered. Not even the vows he had been reciting for days. He would not have marked Rachael as an unconventional bride.

  Decked in a fabulous, dusky pink wedding gown with a full-length tulle skirt and exquisite lace detailing on the bodice, his bride looked marvellous.

  Olivia winked at him from where she sat in the front pew along with four other bridesmaids. Desiree, who had pushed to be a fifth bridesmaid sat on the other end of the pew, and his mate, Bolu eventually paired with Desiree as a groom’s man. Now was not the time to give the pair a thought.

  Interestingly, in a role reversal, his bride decided to dress her five bridesmaids in white fitted gowns. Leading the line-up of bridesmaids, his pretty daughter also wore a thin strap white dress. Behind his bride, his mum dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief.

  “In the presence of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, we have come together to witness the marriage of Rachael Louise Johnson and Banjo Bettino Ricci, to pray for God’s blessing on them, to share their joy and to celebrate their love.”

  Thrust back to the ceremony, Banjo itched to take Rachael’s hand in his own. To feel her warmth. Beside him, she looked radiant. Gone was the acute pain that followed her surgery. The smile on her face added to the desire burning inside him. Her cleavage, revealed in the deep neckline of her gown, made his body groan. One thing he could look forward to with joy was the task of helping her out of her gown.

  “Rachael and Banjo, as you give your consent to each other and make solemn vows, we pray the Holy Spirit will guide and strengthen you that you may fulfil God’s purposes.”

  The minister who now faced the gathering said, “I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these persons may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.”

  There was a long pause.

/>   Banjo winked at his bride, who struggled not to chuckle.

  Facing Banjo and Rachael, the minister continued. “The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of God, who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts, therefore, if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now.”

  Giving another quick glance at his bride, he could not think of reasons why he should not slip his diamond wedding band onto her pretty finger.

  Soon, they were declaring their vows as the priest said to him, “Banjo Bettino Ricci, will you take, Rachael Louise Johnson to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her and, forsaking all others be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

  Although his brain knew what to answer, his throat dried up. A pin drop silence deafened the Church. Then he felt a nudge in his elbow. Recollection flowed and he opened his mouth.

  “I will,” he answered, his fingers instantly turning wet. Nervous. From the hair on his head to the soul of his feet, Banjo felt shivers scatter through him. Can we fast forward please?

  In turn, his angelic bride declared her intent in a clear voice, her eyes taking hold of his. Comfort flowed to his body and he grinned.

  And afterwards, it was the turn of the congregation to declare their commitment to uphold the couple now and in the years to come.

  The marriage ceremony progressed quickly and when he heard Rachael affirm her vows, he trembled.

  “I, Rachael Louise Johnson, take you, Banjo Bettino Ricci to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God’s holy law. In the presence of God, I make this vow.”

  Blinking back the tears forming in his eyes, Banjo took his own vows, clearing his throat a few times. Afterwards, they exchanged their wedding rings, handed over by Jaxson, Hugh’s son. Through it all, Banjo’s heart kept drumming, impatient for the formal ceremony to come to a befitting end.

 

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