It was technically a gown but had four thigh-high slits, two in the front and two in the back. The frock was revealing yet whimsical with a few large strategically placed flowers sewn atop the strapless bodice. The bottom material was sheer, so you could see my legs right through it. It reminded of something a sexy fairy would wear. The fact that it showed off a lot of leg seemed appropriate for a beach setting.
When I texted a picture to Jade from the store, she immediately called me.
“Damien is going to lose it! That dress is hot.”
“You think so?”
“I really do. It’s so gorgeous on you. You need to wear your hair down with beachy waves.” She was silent for a bit then it sounded like she was starting to get choked up.
“Are you crying, Jade?”
“Maybe a little.”
“You know we’re gonna have another wedding, right? You’ll be my maid of honor, standing right behind me.”
“I know. That’s not why I’m crying.” She paused. “I’m just so happy for you. And I think this is just about the most wildly romantic thing I’ve ever heard of—two people just getting married for the simple reason that they can’t wait any longer and keeping it an intimate experience.”
“I never thought I would have the balls to do something this sporadic, but it feels right for some reason.”
“If it feels right, then it is. Tomorrow don’t you dare think about next week or anything negative, for that matter. You hear me? I want you to enjoy every single moment of it. I know it’s private, but please send me one picture of the two of you. Promise?”
“I promise.”
“I’ll be with you in spirit every step of the way.”
That evening, when I walked in the door holding my dress inside of a wardrobe bag, Damien got up from the couch to greet me.
“Did you find one?”
“I did.”
The excitement that filled his eyes made me even happier that I’d said yes. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.” He beamed.
“So, how is this going to play out? You can’t see me before the ceremony.”
“I remembered how adamant you are about that, so I have a car coming to pick you up here. I’ll get dressed over at Ty’s and will head to the beach early to set up. We’ll meet there at exactly eight. I’ll give the driver the precise location. All you have to worry about is looking pretty, which is really not a concern because you could show up wearing a paper bag, and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the world to me. So, scratch that. All you have to do is show up.”
“I can swing that.”
***
Saturday just felt different from the moment we woke up. It was unseasonably warm by about ten degrees for northern California, so it was in the seventies. Damien and I had our coffee together outside in the courtyard as we admired his mural, which was still a work in progress. In one spot, he’d replicated the famous unicorn he’d previously painted for me. The one he created on my old bedroom wall had to be torn down during the apartment renovations.
It surprised me that I wasn’t nervous at all, not about the ceremony or the surgery this coming week. I was instead experiencing a day of respite, a day of peace where I could just experience living in the moment with him.
He left sooner than expected to get things ready for the beach. I wouldn’t see him until the wedding. Getting ready all alone felt strange yet serene. The dogs were with Jenna this weekend, so I was all alone as I stepped out of the shower and prepared to get dressed.
My hair took the longest. I decided to wear it half up half down and used an iron to make loose curls.
I was doing really great in not getting too emotional until The Fighter by Keith Urban and Carrie Underwood came on the radio just as I was applying my mascara. I lost it. Totally lost it.
Sometimes, a song eerily comes on at just the right time. The lyrics could have been Damien speaking to me. It was the story of my life: a girl hurt so badly by a relationship, so afraid to trust in love. Then along came a man who would truly protect her and fight for her. He was my fighter. Of course, later this week that would also take on a whole new meaning.
Keep the surgery out of your mind, Chelsea. Not today.
I stood in the bathroom leaning against the sink and sobbed. They were tears of joy—not fear or sadness. Allowing myself to have one good cry before having to face Damien, I let the mascara run and vowed to reapply it.
It took me two hours to get ready after that. Every time I would start putting on my eye makeup, I would think about the song and tear up again. Eventually, I was finally able to pull myself together as I slipped on my dress. Looking in the mirror, I added the final touch, clipping a simple short veil to lay low in the middle of the back of my head.
A car horn beeped outside. I grabbed my silk bouquet of white hydrangeas and a small rolling suitcase before heading out the door.
Damien had sent a town car to come get me. A nice older man opened the door for me and placed my suitcase in the trunk.
The leather seats were cold from the air conditioning as I situated myself in the backseat. I gazed out the window at the sunset during the ride to Santa Cruz.
After the amount of crying I’d done, my body felt relaxed. So much so, that when The Fighter ironically played faintly on the town car radio, I was able to listen to the words without tearing up this time.
My heart began to pound as the signs for Santa Cruz Beach started to appear along the highway.
When the car pulled into a parking spot near a private section of the beach, I took an Altoid mint out of my small white clutch and nervously chomped on it.
“Here we are, Miss. Follow the lights.”
“Thank you for the ride,” I said, handing him a ten-dollar bill.
Follow the lights.
I looked to my left and saw nothing. Then, I looked to my right and understood exactly what the driver meant. In the distance, was a long line of tall tiki torches. There had to be at least twenty of them on each side.
The waves were crashing as I made my way toward the flames. When I finally arrived at the beginning of the line of flickering bamboo sticks mounted into the sand, I paused and took a deep breath before looking over at him in the distance.
Damien looked breathtaking as he stood tall with his hands crossed one over the other. He was wearing a light-colored vest with a thin tie over a fitted white shirt that complemented his muscular arms. His sleeves were rolled up, and his beautiful dark hair was disheveled from the wind. He was the sexiest groom I’d ever laid eyes on.
My eyes started to water when it hit me that he wasn’t alone. Flanking Damien were the Double Ds—Dudley on one side, Drewfus on the other. They were standing at attention, more well-behaved than I’d ever seen them. I hadn’t expected him to bring them, but it was an amazing surprise.
My heart beat faster with each step closer to the end of the line. I could finally make out Damien’s face. He seemed overcome with emotion, and it shocked me to see him wipe his eyes. I’d never seen Damien cry and honestly didn’t expect it today. That, of course, made me break out into my own tears before I even got to him.
The dogs left their spots to greet me, and I bent down to pet them. Damien had put little bow ties on them; it was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. I then noticed that the town car driver suddenly appeared again and took Dudley and Drewfus to the side.
Damien whispered, “He’s gonna take them back to Jenna’s in a little bit.” Placing his head on my forehead, he simply said, “Hi.”
“Hi.”
He pulled back. “You look...” he seemed to lose his words then looked me up and down. “That dress. Baby, you look like an angel.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I really do.”
Holding both of his hands, I looked around at the torches surrounding us. “This is amazing what you’ve done.”
“I figured you’d appreciate the fire, even though this one is controlled.” H
e winked.
“I do.”
There was a vague awareness of a man standing to our left, holding a book. Whoever he was, he was being patient, letting us have our private moment.
Damien and I continued to be in our own world, holding hands in silence. I momentarily closed my eyes and cherished this moment: the sound of the water, the breeze in my hair, the smell of his cologne mixed with the salty ocean air.
“May I start?” the man asked.
Damien squeezed my hands then looked over at him. “Yes.”
The Justice of the Peace started his script, saying some generic things about love and marriage. Then, he asked Damien and me if we had written any special vows. With the short notice of our wedding, I hadn’t had the time nor the clarity of mind to put my feelings into words.
Damien placed his forehead against mine.
I whispered, “I didn’t write vows. I didn’t know we were supposed to.” I started to tear up, afraid that I’d somehow failed him by not coming prepared with something poignant to say. The thought of putting into words everything I was feeling seemed impossible.
When I looked into his eyes, he was crying.
Damien wiped my tears with his thumbs and wrapped his hands around my face. “I had a thousand things memorized to say to you in this moment, but I can’t think of a single one. What you mean to me, Chelsea, defies language. It can’t be summed up in words or reduced to a minute recitation. Just know that I love you with all of my heart and soul and that it’s limitless. As long as my heart is beating, it will only beat for you.”
His bottom lip was trembling.
I placed my hand on his heart and said, “This heart beating for me…these tears...they tell me more than any amount of words ever could. I never thought I’d be fortunate enough in my lifetime to have someone love me enough that it would bring them to tears. I love you more than life, Damien. You’re everything I’ll ever need. Please don’t forget that. I’m so lucky to have found you, so lucky that out of all of the places in the world I could have ended up, I moved next door to you—the one person I was meant to be with.”
“It was no accident. It couldn’t possibly have been. I’m just so grateful to God that He brought you to me when he did.”
The man cleared his throat. “For two people who didn’t memorize anything, I would say you did pretty well. Best unintentional vows I’ve ever heard.”
We got a good laugh out of that.
“Do we have rings?”
“Yes.” Damien reached into his pocket, taking out a white gold hammered band and a large round diamond that had to have been at least two carats. The stone sat atop an eternity band of smaller diamonds. My eyes practically popped out of their sockets. That ring must have cost tens of thousands of dollars.
“Oh, my God, Damien…” I mouthed.
Damien repeated after the officiant, “I give this ring in pledge of my love and devotion. With this ring, I thee wed.” He placed the ring on my finger, and it fit perfectly.
I repeated the same words and slid the thick band onto his hand.
“By the power vested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Damien lifted me into a kiss and whispered over my mouth, “You’re my wife, Chelsea Hennessey.”
“I love that name. It actually rhymes.”
“Chelsea Hennessey. It does have a nice ring to it. Chelsea Hennessey…got married by the sea. And the lucky bastard is me.”
“You’re a poet now? You have too much talent for one man.”
“I plan to show you many talents tonight, wife. By the way…” His eyes traveled down the length of my body. “That has got to be the sexiest wedding dress on the freaking planet. I’m gonna take scissors to all of your dresses and cut four slits into them just like that.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time you cut my clothing into pieces.”
“Clothing on a body like yours is a sin.”
“Speaking of which…I’m not wearing underwear.”
“Fuck. Really?”
“Yes, you’re rubbing off on me.”
“Rubbing one off on you…later…for sure.”
“I married a dirty, dirty man.”
“I married a little perv.” He kissed me hard.
I stretched my fingers out. “Can we discuss this ring?”
“Do you like it?”
“It’s perfection, but did you sell the building or something to pay for it? It’s huge.”
“Well, see, I read something in this wedding etiquette article that the size of the ring should be directly proportional to the groom’s cock size, so…”
“Ah…that explains it.” Wrapping my arms around his neck, I could see the reflection of the flames in his eyes. “Seriously, it’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen. It had to have cost a fortune.”
“Like you always say, I do everything big. I love you big. The ring should reflect that, if the person can afford it. I can’t think of a better thing to spend some money on.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. No ring in the world could repay you for what you’ve given me and for agreeing to marry me.” His mouth curved into a smile. “Are you ready for our reception?”
“Is there a reception?”
“Yes. The dogs don’t know the chicken dance, so there will be none of that, but I brought dinner catered by Mama Rocco’s. I figured we could eat here on the beach under the torches. I also booked us a room at a resort on the mountaintop a few miles away. The driver, Gary, is gonna come back after he drops off the dogs and clean up after us, so we won’t have to worry about any of that. I basically hired him for the night.”
“You really have everything figured out.”
“I haven’t figured out how to get you out of that dress and fuck you on this sand without getting arrested. Seriously, I can’t wait to get back to the hotel.”
Remembering my promise to my sister, I said, “Oh, I promised Jade we’d take a picture.”
“Gary will do it. He snapped a bunch during the ceremony, too.” He waved Gary over. “You mind taking some pictures of us?”
Activating the flash, Gary took several snapshots of us with the torches as a backdrop.
“Thanks, man.”
When our pseudo photographer was out of earshot, I asked, “Who is that guy anyway?”
“Gary? He’s the new tenant downstairs. Nice guy. He couldn’t pay his rent, so I told him if he worked for me all day today, I’d let it slide just for this month only. He’s at our beck and call.”
“Well, that’s win-win, I guess.”
The dogs sat by us throughout our picnic-style dinner atop a blanket before Gary left to take them back to Jenna’s, leaving Damien and me alone under the stars.
We couldn’t have asked for a better night.
***
Damien carried me over the threshold as we entered our suite at the mountaintop retreat, which overlooked Monterey Bay and the Santa Cruz mountains. He’d arranged for a massive bottle of champagne to be sent to the room, and there were rose petals scattered throughout.
“How on Earth did you find the time to do this?”
“Gary really earned his rent today.” He grinned.
“I should have known.”
“I wanted this day to feel as much like a real wedding night as possible.”
“It’s way better than an average wedding. We basically cut out all of the bullshit and made it about us, which is the way it should be.”
“Lie back on the bed. I want to look at you in that dress one last time before I take it off.”
Lying back against the plush down pillows on a bed of roses, I watched as my gorgeous husband kneeled at the foot of the bed while he gazed at me for several minutes.
“Alright. I’m done looking. It’s burned into memory. Now I need to put those slits to good use.”
Damien slowly undid his tie; there was something so sexy about that simple act. He then cr
awled over to me. “Let’s give new meaning to tying the knot,” he said as he took my hands and wrapped the tie around my wrists, pinning them over my head.
He took off his vest and shirt, throwing them aside before lowering his warm chest onto me. I wanted to touch him, but my hands were tied. He knew I loved this kind of torture, though.
Damien feasted on my body, starting with my neck and eventually making his way downward.
Burying his face under the material of my dress, he used his tongue to fuck my bare pussy as he bore down on my clit with his thumb. I wriggled beneath him, desperate to hold the back of his head as he did it.
When he sensed I was going to come, he suddenly got up to quickly untie my wrists before he undid his pants. He pushed my dress up, and within seconds, he was inside of me. Rocking his hips in a rhythmic motion, he penetrated me slowly and deeply. It was unlike his usual pace. With his eyes closed, he was cherishing every single movement. What it lacked in speed, it made up for in intensity. We’d fucked in just about every which way since we’d gotten together. Every time was somewhat different from the last. But this time felt different from all of the other times.
This definitely felt like a husband making love to his wife.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE FIGHTER
As magical as our wedding night in Santa Cruz was, it wasn’t powerful enough to slow down time.
The day of Damien’s surgery came faster than I’d hoped. Well, if I’d had my way, it wouldn’t have come at all.
He didn’t let go of my hand once as we drove to Stanford in the wee hours of the morning. We were both eerily quiet.
After parking his truck in the hospital garage, we lingered after Damien turned off the ignition. Understandably, neither of us was ready for what faced us inside. He looked over at me. I could no longer mask my fear.
“It’s okay to be scared, Chelsea. You’ve forgotten I can see right through you.”
“I want to be strong for you.”
Squeezing my hand tighter, he said, “Everything’s gonna be alright, baby. It’s okay to show your fear, though.”
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