Liana laughed. “I don’t do underwear deals, and it was a serious question, Mitch.”
“I am serious. Whatever you’d earned before I showed up in your life should remain yours and vice versa. No argument there. And if that’s what a prenup guarantees, I’m good with that. But whatever happens after we’re married, we share, don’t you think?”
“Fair enough.”
He stroked back those stubborn loose hairs again. “Okay then.”
“What do you mean?”
“If we’ve covered all the big stuff, I guess you can go ahead and propose.”
Liana’s loud laugh startled the few birds that were on the beach with them. “You do make me smile, Mitch Molloy. I love you for that.”
He kissed her gently then stared into her eyes. “I love you, Liana. And when the time is right, we’ll get engaged. Our relationship has been all about timing. If I had met you at that party in London, nothing would have come out of it. I wouldn’t have been ready to be the man who deserves you.”
* * *
The next evening, when Mitch dropped off Liana at the airport, he realized he was ready. Just before she reached the airport doors, as she had done so often before, Liana turned to look for him. She would smile that smile that was only for him. He didn’t need more time to know. He knew.
A week later, Mitch phoned Raj and Anusha to ask their permission for Liana’s hand in marriage. They both cried. For good measure, and because he knew how important they were to Liana, he also phoned Mark and Guy, not to ask for their permission but to explain his intentions. Moira cried. When he told his parents of his plans, his mum cried.
He spent another week planning. He was never more grateful for Connor’s connections in the world of fashion; they were able to find the right jeweler for the ring he had in mind. But Cat overheard Connor’s conversation with the jeweler, and when she was told why she wasn’t the intended recipient of the ring, she cried.
Mitch wondered how many more people were going to cry at the news of his proposal.
One more would.
* * *
The following Friday, Liana and Phil spent the afternoon on the field, experimenting with set plays. She didn’t think twice about how often Phil looked at his watch or how particular he was about getting back to the office on time. It was the start of the weekend after all.
Nor was she suspicious when she received a message from him later that day, asking if she would head back to the field because he “forgot to check if the gates were locked.” She was, as usual, the last one at the office.
It was only when she entered the stadium and the lights came on that she realized something was amiss. Her heart nearly stopped beating when she noticed the figure standing in the middle of the field facing her. Dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt, he stood in a familiar pose that continued to grace billboards all around the country. This time, there was no aggression in his stance, but he watched her as carefully as he did every opponent he’d face.
But this was her field, and he stood there, waiting.
She moved slowly down the sidelines then saw the path of scattered daisies that led to a man whose eyes hadn’t left her face from the moment she’d entered the stadium. She wiped at her cheeks. When did she start crying? It didn’t matter.
She stepped on the daisies hesitantly at first. Then her pace quickened the closer she was to him until she finally ran into waiting arms which enclosed her completely. “I love you, Mitch,” Liana whispered into her lover’s neck.
He slowly knelt on one knee and reached into the pocket of his jeans. When Liana saw what was in the small, black velvet box, she gasped and began to laugh.
“Mitch, is that a dwarf ring?”
He nodded, smiling. “Yes. Connor helped me contact the people who designed it for the movie.” He took a deep breath, his eyes glistening under the lights of a football field. “Liana Murphy, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”
Liana nodded then felt the cool, silver metal slid onto her finger.
“It’s beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful.”
He kissed her hand before claiming her lips. A gentle kiss but it was a kiss that seared her soul, a kiss that she would always remember as the moment when she knew she would never have to be alone again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A month later, Helen and Paul Molloy, along with Anusha and Raj Kapoor, were pleased to announce the engagement of their son and granddaughter in the local village gazette. Media worldwide picked it up immediately, and Twittersphere went crazy. The news made the front page in seven different countries. The gossip magazines were beside themselves.
If Mitch were stopped every five minutes because of who he was in rugby, he was stopped even more frequently after his engagement. But he couldn’t be offended; strangers were genuinely excited and happy for him. When Timothy saw the guest list, Mitch was asked if Liana knew anyone “normal.” He didn’t understand why Mitch responded with loud laughter and strong thumps on his back.
Mitch heard from his mother almost every day. She had never been more stressed. Or excited. After receiving Felicity’s reassurance that she was happy for Mitch and Liana, Helen went into full planning mode. She and Anusha were in touch daily by phone and through the internet. Timothy told Mitch that as soon as the phone rang in the house, their dad would head out the door.
Mitch wanted to marry quickly but given their individual commitments to club rugby and World Cup qualifying matches, they had only a two-week window in August to get married and have a honeymoon.
“I want a month for a honeymoon,” Mitch said.
“You’re getting a week,” Liana said. “Like most people.”
“We’re not most people. What’s the point of being the King of Rugby if I only get a week with my new wife?”
“When the King of Rugby marries the very busy manager of New Zealand’s national football team, you get a week.”
Mitch uttered a rare expletive.
* * *
If their work schedules made it difficult for them to spend time together, then planning for a wedding made those precious hours alone seem even more elusive. Mitch’s rugby season was in full swing a month later with an aggressive schedule for both domestic and international matches.
Liana was guilty of putting anything wedding-related behind work. Her grandmother was not impressed by her arguments that she had to prepare the team for an upcoming tournament, the first step to World Cup qualification.
“Can’t we just elope?” Liana asked Mitch over Skype while he was in South Africa.
“My mother would kill me. I can’t deny her this wedding, baby girl.”
“You’re still scared of your mum, Mitch?”
“Like any son should be. And don’t tell me you’re willing to tell your grandmother you don’t want a wedding.”
“I’m not answering that.”
They agreed that whoever was in-country at the time would field any questions pitched by Helen or Anusha. They also decided that neither would challenge any decision the other had made. But after one conversation with his mother about napkin colors and place settings, Mitch knew he’d rather spent six hours in the gym than go through that again.
The news about his inability to make decisions must have reached England because shortly after he ended another conversation with his mother—this time about patterns for flatware—he received a phone call from Moira telling him not to worry. Natasha, Veronica, and she had a binder prepared for the occasion.
“A binder?” Mitch asked. “For the wedding? My wedding?”
“Well, more of what we thought Liana’s wedding would be like,” Moira explained. “Look, we know her. We know she’d never care about details for any wedding, including her own. So... you know... we decided to plan her wedding together because we were bored and probably drank a little too much.”
Mitch shook his head. He didn’t want to know more, and he told Moira how to contact
his mother. In the end, passing the wedding planning over to the five women based in three countries was the best decision Liana and Mitch could have made. They were able to work, their mother and grandmother were able to plan, and their best friends could organize the wedding they wanted. Everyone was happy with how things were falling into place, except Veronica when she learned where Liana was getting her wedding dress through the Cat-Moira-Natasha-grapevine.
Liana was preparing dinner at the townhouse when Mitch answered the phone.
“I need to talk to her, Mitch.” The voice on the line was cold.
“Hello, Veronica.”
Liana looked up and shook her head.
“Ahh, she’s cutting onions,” Mitch said.
The silence over the phone was almost deafening. The voice that spoke back was firm. “Put me on speaker.”
Liana didn’t even start with a greeting. “I don’t have time to go dress shopping, Veronica.”
“Cancel the damn order. I did not spend years introducing you to all the best stylists, only to have your reputation as a British fashion icon go down the drain because of what you decided to wear on your wedding day.”
“Surprisingly, that really doesn’t bother me.”
“Cancel it, Liana. I mean it. I have your measurements. I’ll guarantee that anything I find for you will be better than anything you could order from a catalog.” Veronica pretty much spat out the last word.
“You are such a dress snob, Ve-ro-ni-ca.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Li-a-na. Cancel that damn order.”
The phone went dead.
Liana looked at Mitch, her cleaver suspended in the air.
Mitch knew better than to say anything. Instead, he handed his knife-wielding fiancée carrots to chop.
The birth of Frederick Russell Dane provided a brief respite from the wedding planning. He was on time and was kind to his mother by arriving quickly. Connor, on the other hand, started showing up to practices late and without his usual air of elegance. “Who knew sleeping through the night could be so important?” Connor moaned one morning but quickly erased any doubt as to how he really felt about fatherhood by proudly showing off photos of Frederick daily.
With everything suddenly feeling “right,” Mitch found a similar type of contentment. He no longer bore the weight of expectations about his rugby. He had achieved all he ever wanted in his career and found the love of his life. He had a home; he had friends.
The feeling was reaffirmed when on the shores of the Waimak a few days before the wedding, he watched his father in a cowboy hat share a joke with Connor and Mark. Behind them, Guy and Jay helped Raj into one of the kayaks. Mano and Jerome seemed to be arm wrestling. Mitch shook his head in wonder. How did a farm boy from a small village on the South Island of New Zealand end up with this lot at his stag-do?
* * *
On the day she was to marry, Liana woke up to her grandmother’s familiar scent in her bedroom of the Bed and Breakfast near the church. She had refused a hen-party, working right until the time she left for Christchurch just two days before the wedding.
“Did you sleep well, my darling girl?” Anusha laid a tray with tea and biscuits on the bedside table. She spotted the laptop at the foot of the bed. “You stayed up working, didn’t you?”
Liana yawned and sat up. “I promise, I won’t touch it today.”
Anusha smiled, sitting on the bed. “Let’s just say, I’ll be more surprised if you don’t.”
“Oh, Nan... I’m not that bad.”
“The girls will be coming up soon, but I just wanted a moment with you.” Anusha took a deep breath. “We think the world of Mitch, Liana. I think you found a man who appreciates and loves you for who you really are. Don’t be afraid of depending on him.”
Liana frowned. “What do you mean?”
Anusha patted Liana’s hand. “Marriage is about walking side-by-side. It’s okay to lean on someone else once in a while. You’re strong enough to do that.”
Laughter echoed through the hallway. Anusha smiled, touching Liana’s cheek. “I wish your mum was here to see how beautiful you are.” She rose gracefully just as Veronica flung open the bedroom door with a champagne bottle in her hand. Moira and Natasha were close behind her. “Time to get married, Liana Murphy!”
The morning flew: breakfast, hair, makeup, tears, laughter. Shortly before they were to leave for the church, Natasha turned on the TV to check on the weather report. “Hey! Isn’t that your church, Liana? It’s ‘live!’ I think the entire village has shown up! Oh look, Mitch is arriving!”
“What?” Liana moved from the mirror to stand next to her bridesmaid.
Natasha switched the channel quickly. “Isn’t it bad luck for you to see the groom before the ceremony?”
“Turn it back, Nat! I want to see how the suit we chose for him looks,” Moira said, holding Liana’s train.
The camera caught Mitch emerging from his car with Connor, his father, and brother. A round of applause welcomed them. The reporter described the choice of gray, three-piece suits, with daisies in their lapels as “perfect.” Liana watched her fiancé look relaxed and happy as he waved to the crowd.
Liana smiled then felt Moira’s hand on her shoulder. She reached over to cover it and leaned into her friend. “I’m really lucky, aren’t I?”
“He’s the lucky one. Don’t you forget that.”
She turned to hug her matron-of-honor, then, upon hearing some loud sniffling, pulled Natasha into their tight embrace.
“Bugger it,” Moira said, rubbing her eyes. “I wasn’t going to cry until I was properly sloshed at the reception.”
Half an hour later, another round of applause welcomed the bride and her grandparents as she walked the short distance from the car to the front of the church.
Liana’s hands trembled slightly as she waited for the church doors to open, announcing her arrival. While Natasha fussed over her train, she reached for the diamond daisy pendant, fingering the cool stones while the seconds ticked. Veronica had been right on the money with the dress, made with antique white satin that featured a bateau neckline and an empire waist devoid of any embellishments. Her long hair was styled into a chignon which was secured with crystal barrettes. Moira, her eyes shining with unshed tears, gave her a kiss on the cheek before placing the small bouquet of daisies, roses, and lilies in her hand.
Raj took his place next to her, offering his arm, as Veronica began her rendition of “Ave Maria” promptly at one o’clock. Her friend’s voice rang clear through the doors that opened suddenly, and nerves she hadn’t expected temporarily stunned her. Raj leaned over. “He’s a good man, Liana,” he whispered. “Your parents would have loved him.”
Liana bit her lip. She knew they were there in spirit.
As she walked down the aisle, Liana glanced at the sea of faces on either side of the church. She could feel the love of everyone there: new friends, old friends, and family.
When she finally met Mitch at the altar, her eyes welled up at the emotions she saw reflected in his face.
“You look beautiful,” he said, softly. He took her hand, tucked it into his bent arm, and kept it covered with his. The simple gesture—his touch—dismissed her nervousness. When it was time to exchange their vows, their voices were clear and firm.
On the Molloy Farm, a large tent served as the reception area; fire heaters and pits were scattered throughout, providing both warmth and ambiance. Cat had decorated the tables with pots of daisies and votive candles. Black-and-white photos of Liana and Mitch—taken in a hastily arranged photoshoot—were the final centerpieces. Laughter rang throughout the night; celebrities and non-celebrities mingled easily, the free flow of alcohol no doubt helping ease any sense of awkwardness. Liana surprised Mitch by flying in Veronica’s former bandmates for a “one-time-only” reunion of Impulse to sing a few of his favorite songs from their albums; Mitch surprised Liana with a video collage of well-wishes from people in England, including
former teammates and even the Earl of Kent.
After saying quiet goodbyes to family, Mitch and Liana left just as Mark took the microphone to lead the guests in a loud rendition of “Tubthumping.” The newlyweds had decided to spend the night at Mitch’s house before driving to Queenstown. Neither felt the need to go far for a honeymoon. Liana had to stifle a laugh when Mitch insisted on carrying her over the threshold. Still with her in his arms, he made straight for the backyard, stopping in the kitchen for two glasses and a bottle of champagne he had kept chilled in the fridge. He only let Liana down, her hair now loose, when he saw an unfamiliar object hanging from his deck.
“What the hell is that?”
Liana saw a tag on the chain that was holding up a large swing bed. She reached for it and grinned. “It’s from Mark and Natasha.”
Mitch rolled his eyes but allowed Liana to pull him on the swing bed with her. “Oh stop,” she said, wrapping her arms around her new husband. “This will be fun to have.”
“It’s taken up half my bloody deck. Where am I going to put the barbecue?” He pulled Liana closer, then pushed the large swing tentatively with one of his feet, prompting Liana to laugh again as it squeaked. They had a beautiful view of the night sky, already glittering.
“It was the perfect day, wasn’t it, Mitch?”
Mitch brushed his lips against his bride’s. “Yes, it was. It couldn’t have been better.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Mitch might not have had the month-long honeymoon he had wanted, but Liana was right. They had a perfect seven days in Queenstown. They rented a small cottage that was fully stocked with ready-made meals for the duration of their stay. They didn’t have phones or computers. They brought books and music. They slept in and stayed up late. They ignored the clock. Some days, they ventured outside, careful to avoid people but also comfortable in the knowledge that their winter clothing helped keep them relatively anonymous among the crowds. They ate out a couple of times and made a fire every night. They talked; they laughed; they loved.
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