The King's Surprise Bride: A Royal Wedding Novella (Royal Weddings Book 2)

by Vivien Vale

  Like a knight kneeling before his princess.

  She is my princess, my future queen, and the love of my life.

  I reach up and gently take her hand.

  “June,” I begin, pulling something out of my pocket. “Will you be my wife?”

  For a moment, I forget we’re on an airplane, surrounded by passengers. The sound of a collective awwww from the once irate crowd brings back my situational awareness.

  This wasn’t my original plan for proposing. I considered more traditional options, like over dessert after dinner at a fancy restaurant.

  But as the world collapsed around us, with the door being so forcibly opened, I realized there’s no time like the present.

  June stares at me.

  “What?” she mutters.

  Her eyes reflect confusion.

  “You’re sure making this hard on a guy,” I say, trying to sound like I’m joking.

  And trying to hide my fear.

  What if she says no?

  Up until this moment, it never occurred to me that she might. And yet, she’s not jumping up and down shouting with joy and saying yes, yes, yes.

  “Carter, I don’t understand.” Her voice is soft, and her eyes start brimming with tears. “The contract says I’ll marry you. You don’t have to do this.”

  My brow furrows. Is she really talking about the contract?

  “Fuck the contract.” I stand up. I don’t know if it’s what I’m supposed to do, but I rise to my feet to get close to June and bring her closer to me.

  I want to hold her and never let her go. I want to make sure that I never lose her again.

  So, I envelope her in my arms, and she leans into me. My insides tingle, and I just want to hear her say that one magic word.

  The crowd grumbles impatiently.

  June looks around and smiles shyly.

  “So, June will you be my wife, without the contract?”

  “Yes,” she whispers. Immediately, I pick her up and twirl her through the air.

  The crowd applauds, and a flight attended appears with a glass of champagne.

  “No, thank you,” mumbles June, and puts a hand over her belly.

  “I’ll have one, though,” I say, and take the glass.

  “What?”

  I kiss her on the tip of her nose. “Only this one to help me with the pain.”

  June rolls her eyes.

  We go back to our seats, holding hands.

  By now, the captain is announcing our landing.

  I can’t wait to meet June’s dad and everyone else from June’s life in Nebraska—even that dickhead Kody.

  Knowing June’s agreed to marry me without the contract makes me the happiest man in the world—no, in the whole fucking universe.

  I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.

  June

  “Are those apple trees?”

  The whispered question comes from somewhere on Carter’s side of the aisle—because where else would it come from?

  Do these city folks really not know what an apple tree looks like?

  Whoever whispered that little query also has the worst timing in the world, since we just said our vows, and we were about to kiss, but now I’m distracted.

  “They have apples on them, don’t they?” I yell, answering the question and getting a laugh from all the guests on both sides of the aisle.

  The nearby honey crisp trees are the only trees around, surrounded by a sea of golden wheat.

  With the sun setting over the boundless fields, it’s finally time for Carter to kiss the bride.

  That would be me.

  My senses prickle with anticipation as my new husband flashes one of his million-dollar smiles at me.

  I’m wearing a white wedding dress with lace on the front, but the most unique part of my attire is the pair of brown leather cowboy boots at my feet.

  Yep, that’s right. I wanted to stay true to my roots. These boots had been a gift from my grandma right before I left for New York. A parting gift of sorts, you might say.

  Grandma told me she wanted to give me something I would remember her by, and I had been so touched by the caring gesture.

  Now, here I stand as a beautiful—and enormously pregnant—new bride to one of the most brilliant, gorgeous men in all of Manhattan.

  Or the most gorgeous, brilliant, big-hearted, and amazing man in all of New York.

  Or, really, just the hottest and best freaking husband anyone could want in the entire freaking world.

  The decision to get married in my small hometown in Nebraska really seems to be agreeing with Carter.

  On the other hand, I’m not sure how his city slicker friends and family are taking to the scenery. I notice several of them staring listlessly at the flat horizon, which is filled with nothing but golden pastures of wheat as far as the eye can see.

  Carter, being the tasteful, well-dressed man that he is, is wearing a designer tuxedo. It’s so freaking sexy on him that I keep getting distracted with thoughts of ripping it right off.

  But I know that opportunity will come later.

  Now, it’s time for that amazing kiss that I’m about to receive from my brand-new husband.

  I close my eyes and lean in, ready for the sparks to take over.

  And they do.

  I feel his lips press against mine.

  Excitement rushes through me—the excitement of the kiss and the excitement of what’s to come.

  Of everything to come.

  Grinning, we pull apart from each other.

  We have something to reveal to our beloved wedding guests, and neither of us can keep it to ourselves any longer.

  Without a word, Carter crouches down on one knee and rubs my swollen, tremendously pregnant belly.

  He plants a kiss on one side, then grins at our friends and family slyly, as if he’s got a trick up his sleeve.

  My legs start to shake I absolutely cannot wait to see everyone’s faces when they find out what Carter is going to do next.

  He pats the right side of my belly in the same place he’s just kissed, then he moves his head to the other side of my belly, kisses it, and gives it another little pat.

  “I love you, guys, and I can’t wait to meet you. Both of you,” he says in a bellowing voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Twins?” Carter’s father cries out with excitement, and Carter smiles, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.

  “Yep,” I announce to everyone, and then squeal with delight because I just can’t help myself. “We’re having twins!”

  Just as I anticipated, everyone cheers and claps, hollering and whistling with joy at the news of not only one, but two bundles of joy getting ready to join and merge our families together.

  It might be legally official with a marriage license, but there’s nothing like a pair of adorable babies entering the world to make the blend of families complete.

  The fiddles begin playing the exit song, and I walk—well, more like waddle these days—down the aisle, hand in hand with my groom.

  We take a few pictures as a married couple and then make our grand entrance under the canopy tent for the reception.

  The sun is setting on the horizon, painting a natural canvas spread with hues of pink and orange.

  It’s absolutely beautiful, and with the way the sunset captures a glow against the wheat in the fields, it looks like it’s lighting up like a stunning, breathtaking fire.

  “Can I get you some water or anything?” Carter places his hand on the small of my back and looks up at me with adoration.

  “Sure, that would be nice.”

  I’m sweating like a pig, but I’m sure it has more to do with my massive size and the fact that I’m carrying around two humans than the temperature outside.

  Everyone else seems comfortable, and they look like they’re having a freaking blast.

  It’s the perfect wedding, and I feel like if I pinch myself, I might wake up from the most fantastic dream of m
y life.

  I’m sitting in a white folding chair at our table as Carter walks over from the bar. He graciously extends a hand to hold out a crisp, ice cold water bottle.

  “Thank you,” I tell him gratefully, and place the bottle to my cheek before twisting off the top and taking an enormous chug. “Ahh, that’s refreshing as hell.”

  Carter laughs and strokes my cheek. “You are absolutely fucking adorable. Have I ever told you that?”

  I pretend to ponder this question and then grin wildly. “You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

  I take a deep breath, full of contentment. Glancing around the reception tent, I notice my father and Carter’s father roaring with laughter and clinking their mugs of beer together like they’re medieval warriors who just became allies after winning a war together.

  Carter notices me staring at them with a grin. “Well, they sure look like they’re having fun.”

  “I think they’re drunk, but you’re totally right,” I admit. “They make a fantastic duo.”

  “It’s nice to see everyone getting along.” Carter takes a seat in a folding chair next to me and pats my knee. “How are you holding up?”

  “Aside from the fact that the babies are using my bladder as a squeeze toy?”

  Carter laughs.

  “Yeah, aside from that, I guess. It’s almost over, darling.”

  “Things are great,” I admit. “This is the best night of my life, and I couldn’t have dreamed it would be more perfect.”

  He leans in to give me another passionate kiss, filled with all the love in the world. It’s as if I’m weightless when his lips are on me, floating off into the atmosphere and beyond into a cloudy dreamland.

  When we come up for air, I point and belt into a fit of laughter.

  “What?” Carter looks up in confusion, trying to figure out what I found so darn comical at the moment.

  “Look at all your New York City friends.” I point, still giggling like a hyena.

  “What are they doing that’s so funny to you?” Carter is laughing himself, because, well you know…laughter tends to be infectious.

  “Look at them.” I point, giggling. “They’re trying to do the Cotton-Eyed Joe dance, but their choreography is way off.”

  “I didn’t realize you were a professional choreographer,” Carter teases me.

  “Hey, you never know. I might just turn out to be one of those crazy stage or dance moms,” I threaten playfully.

  “Don’t you dare.” Carter starts tickling my sides, and I start laughing harder.

  “Stop it!” I yell. “You’re going to make me pee…again.”

  “We don’t want to mess up that pretty wedding dress you have on, now, do we?” Carter eyes me as if he wants to rip it right off and plunge his face into my breasts.

  “Please.” I roll my eyes with sardonic flare. “You can’t possibly tell me you want me right now. I’m an elephant.”

  “You’re still fucking sexy to me.” Carter’s eyes twinkle with genuine appeal. Holy guacamole, he really does love me.

  I know I should know that by now, but it’s so nice to be reminded.

  “Thanks.” I lean in for a kiss, because he knows how to reel me in like a fish on a hook.

  We take in the festive atmosphere of the reception, and after a few minutes, I can’t help but shake my head. “They really are entertaining when they try to fit in.”

  “Who? My friends and family?” Carter asks.

  “Yup.”

  “Well, they just aren’t as cool as us, are they?” Carter laughs and pulls me close.

  “Nobody ever will be,” I admit in agreement, before scowling a second later.

  Carter furrows his brow. “What’s with the sour face?”

  “Oh, nothing, it’s just my ex-fiancé Kody over there.” I spit the words out as if they taste bitter on my tongue.

  It appears as if the whole town of Wheatfield, Nebraska is here for the wedding of the century…that’s what I’m officially declaring it.

  “Who’s that woman with him?” Carter asks with curiosity.

  “That’s Mary Beth Mayer, the town harlot,” I say sullenly.

  “Easy there, tiger,” Carter quips. “You don’t want to sound too jealous. After all, you just married the most eligible bachelor on the market.”

  I laugh again. Carter’s handsomeness is plain for anyone to see, but I’m continually taken with how adorable he is as well.

  “He looks miserable,” I notice with delight, then freeze. “Oh crap, he’s coming this way.”

  There’s no time for me to beeline it out of there—thanks to my size, I can’t even stand up from this seat without a significant amount of help.

  Kody approached us, looking apologetic. Mary Beth looms closely behind him.

  “Happy wedding day,” he says sheepishly. “I guess it would have been us if I hadn’t screwed up big time.”

  This statement gets Kody a smack on the back of his head that’s so loud I’m surprised his skull doesn’t cave in. Mary Beth’s hand hovers in the air after delivering the blow, and her face is frozen in a grimace.

  A few of the local policemen invited by my father perk up at the sound of the smack. They’re staring at us, looking ready to get up and involve themselves in this ridiculousness.

  I wave my hand to them, assuring them that Carter and I can handle this pair of idiots on our own.

  We don’t have time for this nonsense. We’re happily married adults and soon-to-be parents.

  I give Kody a look of annoyance. “Thanks,” I mumble and then look over at Carter. “Will you please help me up, darling?”

  “Absolutely,” Carter says with stoic nobility and takes me by the hand.

  “We were just leaving,” I tell Kody. I enjoy glaring at Mary Beth as my new husband and I head off to a private place.

  We’re newlyweds now, and we have newlywed business to attend to—regardless of how huge I am right now.

  The chemistry is still there, loud and clear, and I’ve never wanted Carter more than I do in this moment.

  Which is saying something.

  As the stars shine down upon the Earth from the clear Nebraskan sky, Carter and I share an everlasting love that can’t be shattered, no matter what comes our way.

  Carter

  I take a sip of coffee out of the Styrofoam cup and feel like spitting it out again. But it’s not the sort of thing you do in a hospital waiting room.

  “Tastes like crap,” I say. I take another sip, just to make sure my opinion was spot on.

  It is.

  “Hospital coffee is not supposed to taste any good, my friend,” replies Lawrence and slaps me on the shoulder.

  Instead of a reply, I continue my pacing. Up and down I walk, up and down, like one of those caged lions you see in the zoo.

  “How long has she been in there?” I ask, more to say something than expecting an answer.

  “Too long if you ask me,” replies Lawrence before joining me in my pacing.

  He looks about as stressed as I feel.

  “She’ll be alright,” he pats me on the back. “I know she’ll be alright.”

  The haggard look in his eyes and sincere attempts at reassurance tell me that Lawrence has eschewed any and all bullshit—at least for this occasion—and has become as real as I always hoped and knew he could be.

  This is my brother; I know who he really is. The Lawrence Abraham that most people know nowadays is only part of the picture, and a lot of it is made up of who he thinks he’s supposed to be.

  With that slap on the back and vaguely condescending coffee comment, I thought I might still be dealing with that Lawrence—which would be fine—but on a day like this one, my brother has neither time nor energy to be anyone but exactly who he is.

  I take another sip of my coffee.

  “Still tastes like crap, right?”

  “I’m not drinking it for the taste.”

  Lawrence nods, stopping himself from making a
smart comment. More likely, he’s distracted, tired, frazzled and in disbelief that this is finally happening—in other words, he’s right here with me as I reach the peak of this crazy, incredible ride.

  The ride of a lifetime.

  Two lifetimes, actually.

  Holy crap. It’s like the news of it being twins is just hitting me for the first time, weeks later.

  Being in a hospital waiting room for hours on end will do that to you.

  Especially when it’s almost three o’clock in the morning.

  Especially when you just happened to be waiting for any news regarding the love of your life giving birth to your children.

  Twins.

  Holy goddamn shit.

  I barely even notice that I’m pacing, it’s become second nature. I do notice that Lawrence has taken up pacing as well, not even noticing when he almost bumps into me.

  Since my brother is helping me with pacing duty, I sit down and take another sip of coffee.

  This shit’s getting cold, and yes, it’s getting worse.

  Fuck it. I’ve got enough excitement and nervous energy to keep me awake well into the next day and beyond.

  “I can’t even choke this shit down anymore.”

  “I thought you didn’t care about the taste.”

  Lawrence is pacing intensely enough for both of us, but still he manages a smirk after his little remark.

  That’s my brother, too. He can’t help himself sometimes, and honestly, I’m happy he’s here. I could leap up and give him a giant bear hug.

  But he’s too busy pacing and laughing—with a bit of unhinged exhaustion.

  As I get up to rejoin Lawrence in the pacing party, I laugh, too. We both do, just for a few seconds, out of tiredness, anxiety, and a loopy acknowledgment for whatever joke Lawrence was trying to make.

  And, I’d like to think, appreciation of each other.

  Christ, I keep getting more and more fucking schmaltzy the longer this goes on. If we don’t hear some sort of news soon, I might end up turning into a fucking Hallmark card.

  Lawrence and I stomp back and forth silently for another nearly endless stretch of time before I decide to sit down again.

  Pacing’s not cutting it anymore. I’m about to jump out of my fucking skin.

  “Mr. Abraham?”