Diary of an Engaged Wedding Planner (Tales Behind the Veils Book 3)

by Howe, Violet

  I turned and smiled at the man who would be my husband within minutes. “Not a chance. This is perfect.”

  Dean walked toward me with Deacon, and I noticed a lump on the dog’s back.

  “Why is Deacon wearing his hiking pack?” I looked closer to see a corsage fastened to the top of his pack and a bow tie around his neck. “Aww, Deacon, buddy. You’re all dressed up for the wedding! More dressed up than me, in fact.”

  “He’s the ringbearer,” Dean said. “Just pray there’s no squirrels or ducks running around this late at night.”

  We all laughed, and the sound of our joy rang out in the still night air.

  If there’d ever been a more beautiful night, I couldn’t have imagined it. The night sky twinkled with what seemed to be a million stars like diamonds sparkling against black velvet. The moon put forward its best effort to illuminate the night as it reflected off the water. A light breeze ruffled the branches around us and lifted my hair ever so slightly, the hint of coolness refreshing on my skin.

  Cabe’e eyes were on me, and when I looked at him, his face lit up with a smile as bright as the moon above. He winked at me and gave a quick nod. I nodded back, an unspoken covenant passing between us. Tonight was ours. And ours alone

  So many times I’ve stood there as a bride was ready to take that walk, and I’ve always wondered what she must feel in that moment. The cusp of a life change. The end of one era and the beginning of the next. Over the years I’ve seen brides who seemed elated, nervous, horrified, excited, and bored. In all the stress and drama of planning our wedding, I’d never given much thought to how I’d feel when I stood there. Of course, to be fair, I never knew I’d be standing there. At our lake. In our spot. Basking in the glow of the moon and the sweet gaze of the man I love.

  That’s it. The answer to the question. That’s what I felt. Love. Overwhelming, all-consuming, unconditional love for this man, and from this man. We’d been through thick and thin, ups and downs, good times and bad. He’s not perfect, nor am I. But as I stood there waiting to walk into my new life by his side, I had no doubts. No qualms. No questions. I have never been more sure of anything I’ve ever done in my life. At the end of that short walk was my destiny. I knew that as well as I knew my own name.

  The strains of Israel K’s What A Wonderful World began to play across the darkness from a wireless speaker Cabe had brought. The strum of the ukulele seemed to be in rhythm with the breeze as Dean and Mel made their way down our non-existent ‘aisle’ with Deacon leading as though he’d rehearsed his part to perfection.

  When they’d taken their place on either side of Cabe and the minister, I touched the pendant that lay against my chest and took a deep breath. The breeze picked up and swept around me like a gentle embrace whispering a memory of a love that will never die.

  I walked to Cabe, my eyes never leaving his. In some ways, it seemed every step I took represented the events of my life that had led me to him. To that very moment.

  To be honest, our vows were a blur. I know what we said, of course, because we’d pulled the vows together weeks ago from several ceremonies and readings I had on file. But as we spoke, my attention focused solely on Cabe. The joy in his eyes. His sweet smile. Those perfect teeth and that strong jawline. His curls blowing in the gentle breeze. His strong fingers caressing my hands as he held them in his.

  Deacon behaved so well I wondered if they’d drugged him. He sat patiently by Cabe’s side, and he didn’t even get excited when Cabe zipped open his pack to retrieve the rings. The mere sound of that zipper normally signals all hell to break loose since it means the Frisbee is coming out for playtime.

  The whole thing went by so quickly, and when the minister told Cabe he could kiss his bride, my heart almost tightened in sadness for it ending. Almost, but not quite. Because the ceremony ending meant the most handsome man I’ve ever known was leaning in to kiss me and claim me as his wife. No way was I sad about that.

  Cabe insisted on carrying me over the threshold when we got back to the house, which made me crack up laughing and Deacon howl in protest to what he probably saw as my distress.

  “I’m gonna need you to disappear until I call you out here. I have a few more things to take care of out here, okay?” He set me down with a kiss.

  “You’ve been quite the busy little bee this evening, Mr. Shaw.” I smiled up at him.

  “Yeah, turns out you’re not the only wedding planner in the family, Mrs. Shaw!” He grinned so wide his cheeks looked as though they’d split wide open.

  “Mrs. Shaw,” I repeated. “I like the sound of that.” I nestled in close to him and slid my hands around his waist and below, gripping his ass in both hands and squeezing tight. He laughed, and I moved my lips against his, flicking my tongue across his bottom lip before venturing further inside. He pushed me away with a dramatic groan and a smile.

  “Oh, heaven help me. Baby, please. I just need you to give me a few more minutes.” He kissed my forehead and turned me toward the bedroom.

  “Make it quick,” I said as I made my way down the hall to our room.

  I dug in my bottom drawer and made my way to the bathroom with the racy lace negligee I’d bought for our wedding night. Of course, that was when I thought my wedding night would be spent in a bed and breakfast inn in Atlanta before we took off the next morning for our honeymoon in Costa Rica.

  But now? My husband’s impromptu wedding ceremony had changed our plans in more ways than one.

  Which is why I was standing in our bathroom with the water running for the second time tonight. I had no idea when I showered a couple of hours ago that I’d be back here getting ready for my wedding night.

  Holy shit. My wedding night. I am a married woman.

  Ha!

  I’m married! To Cabe!

  Oh my gosh.

  My wedding night. Which means I am finally going to have sex with Cabe. Yes, Lord.

  With my husband.

  Oh wow. My husband.

  I can’t stop saying it. Can’t stop writing it.

  Cabe Shaw is my husband. How weird and wonderful and surreal is that?

  I want to call everyone I know and tell them we’re married. At the same time, I don’t ever want to tell anyone. I want to stay in this little cocoon where only we know. Our own little secret conspiracy against them all.

  Tuesday, October 21st

  It only took me a few seconds when I woke up this morning to remember that I married Cabe last night.

  My first thought was that I was nude, and I never sleep nude. My second thought was that I felt a slight tenderness in all the right places when I moved my legs to stretch, and with that realization, it all came flooding back in a warm rush of incredible memories.

  He had the whole place alight with candles when I came out from my bath last night. He’d poured champagne and put on music, a slow ballad from an obscure band he loves.

  He’d been looking down at his phone when I came down the hallway, and when he glanced up and saw the silky black negligee, he did a double-take and swallowed hard.

  I twirled slowly with my arms held out to my sides. “You like?”

  He nodded and parted his lips slightly. His tongue raked across them with a flicker, and my entire body tensed with an ache deep inside.

  I took the champagne flute he offered and smiled as his eyes raked over my body. When he came back up to meet my gaze, his look conveyed in no uncertain terms that there’d be no brakes put on tonight. He bit down on his lip and reached to place his hand on my hip, pulling me toward him slightly as he leaned forward to nibble along my neck. I shuddered and tossed my head back, thrusting my fingers into his curls to hold his head and press his mouth tighter against me, wanting more, wanting all, needing his touch more than ever before.

  He lifted his gaze to mine, his lips swollen and wet from the pressure of the kisses he’d burned across my skin.

  I moved to set the champagne glass down so I could get both hands on him, but he paused my
hand and picked up his glass to toast.

  “To our future. May we always love each other as intensely as we do in this moment, and may every tomorrow be better than its yesterday.”

  We intertwined our arms and sipped the champagne in the traditional manner, even though no photographer was on hand to capture the scene. The cold fizz tickled and stung as it slid down my throat, the sweet scent intoxicating to my heightened senses.

  Cabe drained his glass but held the contents in his mouth, smearing the moist wetness across my shoulder and allowing a tiny bit of the liquid to escape and trickle down my chest and between my breasts. He followed the shimmery, wet trail with his mouth, every lap of his tongue increasing the throbbing ache inside me.

  He took my champagne glass and set it on the table next to his. One hand closed over mine as the other grasped my hip, and we began to sway in time to the music. All other thoughts left my mind except Cabe and the sensations he was causing. I closed my eyes as we moved together in rhythm with the beat, his hands firmly on my hips. He squeezed them slightly and then smoothed his hand up the soft black lace to trace the outer edge of one nipple and then the other before sliding down my ribs to span his palm across my waist. He spun me around, his other hand lifting mine high in the air to make the turn. He trailed his fingers slowly back down the inner flesh of my arm, and I shivered as I leaned back into his bare chest. A moan escaped me as he brought both his hands up under my arms and across my ribs.

  His nose nuzzled behind my ear, and then his breath blew warm on my neck before he sank his teeth into my shoulder, gently but firm. His hands moved up from my ribs agonizingly slow, closing over my breasts and kneading their fullness until my nipples were taut with desire. I reached over my shoulder to sink my fingers in his hair and pull his head closer and harder against me, whispering his name like it was a healing chant.

  I moaned again as his hand dipped lower, sliding the lace up over my thigh as his fingers tickled and teased across the goose bumps rippling my skin.

  He spun me back around then, tilting my head back to bury his face in my neck. One hand stroked through my hair to pull gently back and open his access while the other hand down lower drove me wild and left me breathless and unable to stand.

  “I’ve waited so damned long for this,” he whispered against the hollow of my throat as he slid the thin, silky strap from my shoulder and followed its descent with his tongue.

  I was about ready to scream “Get on with it already!” when he lifted me into his arms and carried me down the hallway to our bed. He laid me down with loving tenderness and then stood to remove his jeans, his eyes boring into mine as the tension built to an inferno.

  Talk about a build-up. Six years. Six years of fighting feelings. Keeping temptation at bay. Never fully giving in.

  Our physical intimacy in the months since we’d taken our relationship further had only served to increase the stakes. Every time we’d taken it to the edge and stopped. Every time we’d brought each other to the pinnacle of passion but then held back. It all made that final moment of surrender all the more special and all the more intense.

  Chills rolled over my skin while he stood there looking down at me, his body magnificently chiseled and sculpted to perfection. As he eased himself down on the bed beside me, a sudden shyness filled me.

  An uncertain apprehension. What if we’d waited all this time and it ended up being a letdown? What if all that build-up had blown our expectations out of proportion and the reality of what was physically possible couldn’t possibly measure up?

  My fears were short-lived and unfounded.

  To finally be joined with Cabe was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It moved me on so many levels. Physically, of course. That goes without saying. But it was such an emotional act. Spiritual, even, in the bond that passed between us. Completely and totally giving myself over to him and receiving his same offer in return.

  True to Cabe’s passion for music and his uncanny knack for bringing humor to any situation, he suddenly belted out song lyrics as we lay together in a twisted intertwining of limbs and hearts in the moments after we’d reached our goal.

  “Why are you singing Boston lyrics?” I asked with a laugh that started deep within me and bubbled up and out from a place of pure bliss.

  “Well, because it has been such a long time,” he answered, capturing my earlobe between his teeth as he rolled off of me and onto his back, pulling me with him.

  I laughed again, utterly relaxed and incapable of movement. “I feel like I’ve been drugged. Did you put something in the champagne?”

  He chuckled as he caressed my back. “Nope. I’m just that intoxicating.”

  “Really?” I managed to lift myself on one elbow so I could see his face. “Well, consider me addicted.”

  He tucked his thumb under my chin and pulled me to him, his mouth soft and tentative on mine in stark contrast to the mad tempest we’d ridden out before.

  He released my lips but not my chin, and I smiled as I watched his eyes look into mine.

  “Was it worth the wait?” I asked, leaning back a bit to see him as he answered.

  “Oh, and then some. Every painful night.” He put his arms around me and rolled again, this time carrying me to lie beneath him and look up into his eyes as he spoke.

  “I have never in my life loved anyone as I do you. And I will never love another.”

  Such a long build-up can’t be squelched easily, and we spent the rest of the night allowing ourselves to freely partake of what had been dangled as forbidden fruit for so long in so many ways. It was well into the morning hours before we finally drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.

  I looked over at him in the morning sunlight and smiled at his relaxed expression as he slept. I had no idea what time it was, but judging by the position of the sun on our bedroom walls, it was late. I tried to sit up and winced a bit. I twisted to see the clock, not really worried since Mel had assured me I wouldn’t be expected in the office early, and Cabe had already taken the day off.

  I stretched again when I stood, my body feeling like a satisfied cat who’s finally got a good rubdown and a bowl of fresh milk. I don’t know that I’d ever been so relaxed in my entire life. Certainly not in the hellish weeks leading up to last night. I padded down the hall in my birthday suit to get the coffee started and let Deacon out in the back yard. By the time I got back to our room, Cabe was awake, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.

  He turned his head toward me as I lounged against the door frame, admiring the image of my husband’s naked body tangled in our sheets.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Shaw.” He smiled and lifted his arm off the bed in invitation.

  I gladly accepted and crawled in bed beside him, pressing my side against his as I lay on my stomach and he lay on his back.

  “Happy?” I asked.

  “Blissfully so.” He answered and closed his eyes.

  “Ready to go again?” I teased.

  He smiled, his eyes still closed. “Oh, yes, ma’am.”

  Needless to say, I called in sick to work. Those other brides can just wait until tomorrow. For today, I’m being the bride and enjoying my newlywed status.

  Friday, October 24th

  The rest of the week has been a blur. We can’t get enough of each other. We’re like two teenagers who’ve discovered the power of passion for the first time, and we just can’t stop. Any time we weren’t at work this week, we were in bed. We haven’t done laundry. We haven’t gone grocery shopping. Other than going over Sandy’s proposal Wednesday night, we haven’t talked about the upcoming wedding at all, and we’ve been letting the phone go to voice mail. It’s been heavenly, but I’m running out of clean clothes and we’ve gone through every place that delivers food to our neighborhood.

  Unfortunately, I have a rehearsal dinner and dessert party tonight, then I have a wedding plus Mel’s wedding tomorrow, and a ceremony and reception with Lillian on Sunday. I swear if they don’t
get another assistant hired and trained soon, we’re all gonna keel over from exhaustion. Laura is pretty much the only one who will take Charlotte for events, so Mel and I tag team helping each other, and then somehow I always get stuck helping Lillian.

  I cannot wait for October to be over. Especially now that the pressure is totally off for our wedding. It’s amazing how differently I feel about it now that we’re already married. I’m not as keyed up about everything as I was before. I realize part of that is because I know Sandy will do a stellar job with the centerpieces and lighting in the fellowship hall. But a huge portion of it is because now that we’ve had our little wedding here, the rest doesn’t matter as much. Before, I had this mindset that it was my wedding, the only one I’d ever have, and much like the brides I deal with every day, I was freaking because I wanted it to be perfect. But after experiencing the amazing simplicity of our little ceremony, none of it’s worth freaking out over.

  If Mama wants to print up programs for everyone to throw away, oh well. It really doesn’t matter. If she wants to have a pot luck dinner and eat off paper plates, I don’t care. Okay, that’s not true. I will flip my lid if we get there and she’s planning on using paper plates, but for the most part, I’m okay with whatever she wants to do. It’s almost like this is her wedding. The one she never got to plan. I’ve made up my mind to go with the flow and let her do whatever she wants from this point.

  I’ve already had my wedding, and to me, it was perfect in every way possible. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

  Monday, October 27th

  I really should write these entries in pencil so they could be erased.

  When I said I didn’t care what she did, I didn’t mean I didn’t care. I meant I was going to try not to get so worked up over it. And I did try.