His Only Wife

by Melissa Brown

  “Lay down,” she whispered, her chest still heaving.

  Again, I followed her instructions and lay on my back. Brin straddled my thighs and slowly unbuttoned her top. Her hair spilled down around her shoulders; it was wild and tousled, and sexy as hell. Next she removed her bra, letting it fall onto my chest. The satin grazed my skin, making me shiver.

  Slowly, deliberately, she eased herself onto me, and I shuddered at the feel of her. It didn’t matter how often Brin and I had sex, every time was different, and as ridiculously corny as it must sound, every single time felt like a gift. The love I felt for her was overwhelming, especially when we were physically intimate.

  She pressed her hands into my shoulders, rocking her hips again and again. I pumped beneath her, knowing I would come apart at any second. When she felt me getting closer, she threw her head back, quickening her pace. Seconds later, my fingertips dug into her hips as I cried out into the cool night air. Brin collapsed onto my chest and I stroked her hair.

  “That was our first time as an engaged couple,” she said with a sigh. I could hear the satisfaction in her voice, and even though I couldn’t see her face, I knew she was smiling. And I was too.

  “Yes, it was. If this was engaged sex, can you imagine how good married sex will be?” I teased as I ran my fingers up and down her back.

  “I can’t wait.”

  The certainty in her voice was just what I needed. It solidified her answer and gave me confidence.

  Brin snuggled up next to me, and we stared up at the blanket of stars above us, savoring each other and the future we were planning together. As difficult as the first part of my life had been, I knew the rest of it would be nothing short of fantastic with her as my wife.

  Chapter 10

  Brinley

  A bride. I’m going to be a bride.

  My parents delivered that news when I was eighteen years old and I felt sick, literally sick. My stomach churned for weeks on end as I counted down the days until I married the middle-aged Lehi Cluff. I had nightmares about the possible solitude and unhappiness I would experience amongst his sister wives, inside his home and his world. And every single one of those nightmares came true.

  But this time? This time everything was up to me.

  I would choose my dress, the date, the location, everything. And at the end of the ceremony, instead of feeling like a prisoner surrendering herself to the enemy, I would feel like the luckiest person on the planet. I’d chosen Porter; I’d made my choice instead of having one made for me. And that was true freedom.

  When Tiffany told me about her interaction with Porter at the bank, I expected to panic like I had in the boutique. But it didn’t happen. Instead, my heart fluttered when I heard of his determination to give me the perfect ring and his desire to do it all on his own, having declined Tiffany’s offer to loan him money. Right then and there, I was finally able to separate my experience with Lehi from my future with Porter. They were two utterly different men. One added me to his brood simply because the prophet deemed it so. The other wanted to offer me a future, one in which he’d fight like crazy to make me the happiest I could be.

  How could I have not seen the difference before?

  To say that Tiffany was relieved at my reaction would be a grand understatement. She was shocked at first, and seemed to repeat the same question every five minutes for the two hours I sat on her couch.

  “Are you sure?”

  Each time, I’d nod and squeeze her hand, assuring her that my days of panicking over marriage were over.

  And then I opened my first bridal magazine.

  The choices were endless. Churches, ballrooms, limousines, and flowers. Bands, DJs, photographers, and invitations. I had no idea that weddings were such a production. Of course, I’d seen a few movies in which the wedding was a part of the premise, but they made it look so easy, so effortless. What these magazines were showing me was the underbelly of the wedding planning process, and I wasn’t sure I had the stomach for it.

  “You look green. What’s going on?”

  I jumped slightly as Porter’s voice brought me back to reality. I was so engrossed in the idea of orchestrating a traditional wedding presented by the magazine that I didn’t even realize he’d entered our living room. I was sitting cross-legged on the couch, magazine in my lap, and a mouth as dry as a ball of cotton.

  “Oh, it’s nothing.” I attempted to shrug off his concern, but he knew me too well. He reached for the magazine and tugged on the spine to reveal the front cover.

  “Modern Bride, huh?”

  Tucking my hair behind my ear, I nodded. “It’s been a few weeks, so I thought I should start looking. You know, at this stuff.”

  “So, why do you look so concerned?” His brow furrowed as he sat down next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “No.” I shook my head emphatically. “Never. I just didn’t realize how elaborate weddings could be.”

  “Listen to me.” He turned to face me. “We can do whatever you want. If you want to go to the courthouse, we will. Want to have it in the backyard and just invite a couple of people? That’s cool too. We can literally do whatever you want. You just have to tell me what you want, Brin.”

  “That’s why I bought this. I don’t really know what I want.”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “What?” I scrunched my nose.

  Porter laughed and shook his head. “Just do it, c’mon.”

  “Fine.” I pursed my lips but conceded and closed my eyes tight.

  “When you think of our wedding day, tell me what you see.”

  “I—”

  Porter gripped my hand. “Just try. Think about us. Where are we?”

  “Outside.”

  “Where? On a beach? In a garden?”

  Neither of those were accurate. “Um, this might sound weird.”

  “Never.”

  “We’re on a cliff, looking out into the unknown.” I grimaced and opened my eyes, prepared to see a look of horror on Porter’s face. But I was greeted with the warmest smile imaginable. “Into a world of endless possibilities.”

  Porter raised both eyebrows as if he’d pictured something similar himself. “That sounds really nice. We’re in the right part of the country for that.”

  He was right, there were canyons throughout our state. But there was one in particular that I’d always dreamed of visiting.

  “Don’t laugh at me, but I see us at the Grand Canyon. I’ve wanted to go there since I was little. My father had this huge picture book on it. It was old and dusty, and I have no idea if he ever opened the thing, but I did. It fascinated me. The pictures were gorgeous, almost magical.”

  “Then I think we should get married there.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “I have no idea, but I’ll find out.”

  Excitement filled me, knowing we had a direction and possible location for our wedding. A location I’d been dreaming about visiting since I was five or six years old. It was like a dream come true. And with that simple step, the stress seemed to melt from me, and I relaxed into the sofa.

  Porter squeezed my shoulder. “Okay, cheater, close those eyes. We’re not done yet.”

  A muffled laugh escaped my lips as I closed my eyes again. “Okay, fine.”

  “Now, who’s with us? Are we alone? Is it just us?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  He cleared his throat. “Brin, be honest.”

  “I think I see people I shouldn’t.” A pause hung between us, and I opened my eyes.

  “Like Aspen?” he asked.

  “Yes, and my family. My mother, my sisters.”

  “Brin, I—”

  I hung my head. “I know. Once you’re out, you’re out. They’d never be able to come. And if they could, but didn’t want to, that would break my heart even more.”

  Porter’s voice was hoarse. “Yeah.”

  “Just us, then.”
>
  “Are you sure? What about Tiffany?”

  I loved my cousin tremendously, but there was something poetic, beautiful, and romantic about marrying Porter on the edge of a cliff, our hands intertwined, our future ahead of us, and nothing and no one holding us back. She’d understand, of that I was certain. But I felt a slight ache at the idea of her not being by my side.

  “No, just us. That’s how it should be, don’t you think?” I knew my answer didn’t sound confident, and the look on his face wasn’t all too convinced either.

  Porter ran his fingers through my hair. “Yeah. That’s how we should do it.”

  Snuggling up to the man I was set to marry, my heart calmed at the hope we were on the same page.

  “Feel any better?”

  “I think so,” I said with a sigh. “At least I can breathe again.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “It’s just you and me, Brin. That’s how it’s always been, and I’m good with that. Are you?”

  Placing my hand on his chest, I said, “Yes. I am.”

  And it was true. With each step Porter and I were taking in our lives together, I was able to let go of my past. Little by little, I was making strides toward independence and happiness, and my past in the compound was just that. My past.

  My future involved Porter. Wonderful, determined, loving Porter. Was he perfect? No. He was flawed, stubborn, and oftentimes fragile. But he was mine. And when I pictured myself inside one of those photographs from my father’s tattered book, my hair blowing in the breeze, a soft ivory gown tickling the tips of my toes and Porter looking unbelievably handsome in a shirt and tie, all I could do was smile.

  We didn’t need a church or a fancy ballroom reception. We didn’t need a limousine or a sea of flowers. We didn’t need a band, a DJ, or fancy invitations. All we needed was each other.

  Together, the future was bright. The future was very bright indeed.

  Chapter 11

  Porter

  Six months later

  I always knew I would fall in love. But I never dreamed I’d feel like I did today.

  The moment I saw Brinley in her wedding gown, I almost lost it. My beautiful bride, my stunning partner, she stood before me in a strapless dress that blew in the breeze of Grand Canyon National Park. Her hair hung in loose waves, pulled back by a simple clip covered in sparkling crystals. She’d visited a local beauty salon, and surprisingly seemed to embrace the makeup on her face. She had soft pink lips, long-lashed blue eyes, flawless porcelain skin, and a confidence that blew me away.

  My girl looked hot, and she knew it.

  The guys at work told me she was the most no-nonsense bride they’d ever heard of. They gave me so much shit over the last few months, making me suffer through stories of their own weddings. Their wives had demanded all sorts of things to make their wedding complete—a horse-drawn carriage in the middle of winter, a string quartet as they walked down the aisle, multiple wardrobe changes, and five hundred guests cooing over their vows. But Brinley just wanted a beautiful dress and the location of her dreams. It was after much convincing on Tiffany’s part that she even agreed to have a photographer.

  “You’ll want to treasure these moments,” Tiffany had reminded her.

  Brin had pointed at the top of her head. “They’ll be right here.” Then she’d tapped her chest, right over her heart. “And here.”

  I’d been touched by her sentimentality, but knew Tiffany wouldn’t take no for an answer. And to be honest, I agreed with her. I knew we’d want the photos to show our future children, to hang in our home, to bring us back to the day we vowed to love each other for the rest of our days on this earth.

  “You’re hiring a photographer,” Tiffany had replied. “Consider it my gift to you.”

  “Wow.” Brinley’s eyes had been wide as she’d taken in the generosity of that gift. We were lucky to have such generous people in our lives. Jesse had made the proposal a reality, and now Tiffany was giving us the gift of tangible memories.

  “It’s my pleasure. Besides, it’s purely selfish on my part. If I can’t be there, I want to see the pics.”

  Brin and I had exchanged a glance, and I knew immediately that we were having the same thought. As much as it seemed to make sense to do this on our own, it was a bittersweet decision and one that was, in the grand scheme of things, unnecessary. It was in that moment that we decided to invite the members of our new family—the family we were creating for ourselves.

  The very next day, we’d invited Tiffany to join us at our wedding. I’d also asked Jesse to meet me at the local coffee shop for an early meeting, knowing I couldn’t get married without him there.

  My hands had shaken and my heart had raced as I’d waited for him to arrive. He’d taken one look at my face and his expression had gone flat. He saw my pale skin and my shaking hands tap, tap, tapping against the tabletop. I knew what he was thinking; he thought I was using. But I wasn’t. I was just scared as hell—scared of rejection, scared of being vulnerable, and ultimately scared of feeling something for Jesse that might not ever be reciprocated.

  “What happened? How can I help?” His voice was low, his eyes kind.

  “No, no.” I shook my head, giving him my best reassuring smile. “It’s nothing like that. I just—I have something to ask you.”

  Jesse sat back in his chair and studied me as he waited, his expression reserved, as if he was waiting for me to drop a bomb. “All right.”

  My voice cracked as I finally said the words. “Brinley and I would like to invite you to our wedding. You and your wife, that is.”

  He licked his lips and smiled wide, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Well, I’ll be damned. I thought you were eloping?”

  “That was the original plan, but now… Well, we decided we want our…our family to join us.”

  He pursed his lips slightly and I did my best not to react, not to be disappointed in the fact that I’d clearly made him uncomfortable with that word.

  God, I’m an idiot.

  Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.

  “You know, I had a son once.” He stared down at the table. “He, uh…he died when he was very young.”

  “Wow. That’s awful, man. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  Jesse rubbed his goatee, his eyes staring off into space as he spoke. “We didn’t have any more children. We just couldn’t get past it, ya know? It’s the reason I started using. I needed an escape.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  “I’m still not over it. I don’t think a parent ever gets over the loss of a child. But now, it’s like you’re giving me another shot, kid. Is that weird?”

  He pursed his lips, waiting for a response. All I could muster was a soft shaking of my head. Of course it wasn’t weird. He was offering me another shot too.

  “Your first meeting at NA, I knew I wanted to help you, to be your sponsor. But I didn’t know that we’d click the way we have. I didn’t know you’d let me in like this. And I’m grateful. What I’m trying to say is…you’re like family to me too.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “Thanks, man.”

  “And I’d love to be there for you on your wedding day. It would be an honor, actually.”

  “Thanks,” I said, shaking his hand. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

  We drank our coffee and continued our conversation, talking about everything and nothing at all. It was one of the best cups of coffee I’ve ever had in my life, enjoyed as I was filled with relief and understanding. Knowing that I meant as much to Jesse as he did to me was freaking priceless, and I knew our relationship would only grow stronger.

  And that’s how Brin and I came to be standing on one of the many cliffs of the Grand Canyon, holding hands as we overlooked the great unknown together. Tiffany, Jesse, and Audrey were there for support, standing only a few steps behind. The justice of the peace, a tall guy named Justin, greeted us by shaking our hands before starting the short ceremony.

 
“Brinley and Porter, today you celebrate one of life’s greatest moments, and give recognition to the worth and beauty of love as you join together in vows of marriage. From what I understand, yours is not the typical love story. You were both raised on a compound, and so I realize your outlook on traditional marriage may have been affected by this. I commend you for making this commitment to each other and for moving forward in your lives together. I assure you that a marriage based on trust, equality, and shared values is one to celebrate, to praise, and to strive for.”

  I looked to Brin and we nodded in solidarity, knowing that we’d weighed our options and we were choosing this life together.

  “I understand you’ve written your own vows?”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered.

  “When you’re ready.”

  Justin extended his arm, giving me the floor, and I cleared my throat, preparing myself to tell Brin everything I’d been dying to tell her since the day she accepted my proposal.

  “My sweet Brinley.” I cleared my throat again, feeling the dryness creep into my mouth. “There are so many promises I want to make today, so many things I want to assure you of, so many things I want to pledge. I know I’m not perfect—far from it, in fact. But you make me better, your faith and trust makes me strive to improve every single day. Your love inspires me, it motivates me to cast out the darkness when it calls. And we both know it calls. I can’t promise that I’ll never make another mistake, in fact, I’m pretty sure I’ll make a ton before our first anniversary.”

  She giggled behind her hand as her eyes glistened. I laughed as well, knowing I’d brought some levity to a serious moment. It didn’t quash my sincerity, however. With another clearing of the throat, I passed Brin the handkerchief from my suit pocket and continued.

  “But know that I’ll do my best to be the man you deserve, the man who’s worthy of all that you are. And so, Brinley, I take you to be my wife, my only wife. And I thank you for taking me, risks and all.”

  Brin wiped her eyes with the handkerchief before taking a deep breath and starting her vows. “Porter, you changed my world; we both know that. You walked into my bleak life of routine and servitude, and you flipped it on its head. You woke me up, and you introduced me to all the beauty real life had in store for me. Each day, you give me purpose. Each day, you help me gain a better understanding of the world around me. And as much as you say you’re a risk, you must know that I am too. We all are…it’s just part of being human.”