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Sinker: Alpha Billionaire Romance

Page 40

by Colleen Charles


  Before the officiant could get the words, ‘You may kiss the bride’ out of his mouth, I leaned over and kissed my bride. Cheers of joy went up and out through the crowd.

  We were finally Mr. and Mrs. Quinn Andrews.

  Forever. And ever.

  ***

  We had the customary photo session with a local photographer. Afterwards, Ashton and I joined our guests at the reception area, which consisted of the pool deck at the beach house. We’d decided on an open bar and catered affair. A local band had already tuned up to provide the audio backdrop for dancing. A portable, parquet dance floor had been laid down in front of the makeshift stage.

  Well-wishers included Mr. Albertson and his family and a few people from the real estate office. Two of the nurses that took care of Nanna while she was ill were in attendance. Friends and family from Georgia were also there.

  The band started to play, “Wish You Were Here”, which served as the accompaniment for our first dance together as man and wife. We took the dance floor and I twirled Ashton across the glossy wood and straight into my arms.

  “How does it feel to be a married woman?” I asked my new wife.

  Wife. My new favorite word.

  “I love it when people say Mrs. Quinn Andrews,” Ashton said.

  I stumbled a little but caught myself before I embarrassed myself by teetering on my titanium leg.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to dance?” she asked.

  I’d had my prosthetic leg refitted a couple weeks before the wedding. I was still getting used to it despite weeks and weeks of physical therapy. My doctor told us that it would take months for it to start feeling normal for me. Like an extension of my body.

  “Of course. I wanted to dance with you at our wedding,” I said. “Nothing on this earth could stop me from holding you in my arms and claiming you as mine.”

  “That’s one of things that I love about you,” Ashton said. “Your determination and tenacity.”

  “Just one of the things?” I asked, fishing for compliments. I’d never tire of Ashton telling me how much she cared about me.

  She ran her hands down the length of my lapel. “Well, there are other things that I love as well. They just aren’t appropriate to talk about on the dance floor with our parents watching us. We’ll talk more when we’re alone.”

  I brought her in closer. “Alone. With you. Such sweet, sweet words. How soon can we make that happen?”

  Ashton giggled. “Because you want me out of this dress?”

  “I do love your dress. But seeing you out of it is more appealing.” I kissed her neck and whispered, “I didn’t get to see you last night if you remember.”

  “Yes, I remember. You were the one that wanted to abide by tradition and not see each other until today.”

  “Damn traditions. Or a temporary moment of insanity.”

  We kissed.

  We danced.

  We drank.

  And we laughed all night long.

  Around midnight Courtney rounded up Ashton so she could throw her bridal bouquet. All the eligible women gathered around to catch it. Of course, that wasn’t many since we had a pretty small guest list.

  Ashton threw the bouquet and it went sailing over the hopeful heads of women. A squeal went up in the crowd and I turned to see Cassie, Mr. Albertson’s daughter, had caught the flowers as she held it up triumphantly.

  Ashton and I congratulated her. “I hope you guys will come to my wedding,” she said holding the bouquet close to her chest. “I gotta find a man first.” She looked over at Henri. “Is he single?”

  Ashton laughed, her former animosity toward the woman forgotten in the shadow of my love. “That’s my boss. He lives in Atlanta. And yes, he’s very single.”

  “Ooh, introduce me?” Cassie asked, eyes twinkling.

  Ashton looked at me and I shrugged. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  I watched as my wife walked off to introduce Cassie to her former boss.

  “Hey,” I felt a pat on my back. I turned to find Ashton’s dad standing behind me.

  “Hi, Mr. Jansen.”

  “I think you can call me Carl,” he said with a pat on my back. “Or Dad if you prefer.”

  “Okay, Carl” I agreed.

  “You and I haven’t had a chance to really talk since you’ve been engaged to my daughter,” he said. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what happened between you and my son. If I had known …”

  I cut him off. “It’s okay Carl. It happened a long time ago and Griff and I have already made up.”

  “That’s what he told me. I don’t want there to be any hard feelings.”

  “Of course not. We were both young. Things happened that made both of us have regrets.”

  “I trust you to take care of my daughter,” Carl said through narrowed eyes. “She’s very special to us. But I couldn’t think of anyone else that I would rather see her with. You make her happy. I appreciate that.”

  I smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Jan - I mean Carl.”

  He handed me a small envelope. “This is from me and Marcia. I know your grandmother left you the house and a nice inheritance, but we hope we can help with the costs of starting a new business. We know that Ashton and you have already put a lot of money into the new company.”

  “Thank you, that means a lot to us.”

  Carl patted me again on the back as Ashton walked up. “What are you two up too?”

  “Your dad and I were just talking.” I handed her the envelope. “He gave us this.”

  Ashton peeked inside and gasped. “Dad! You didn’t have to do this.”

  He shrugged. “You wouldn’t let us help with the wedding. This is just a little something to help get you started.”

  I watched as Ashton kissed her dad on the cheek and hugged him tightly. The band started to play “Just the Two of Us”. Ashton grabbed my hand.

  “This is our song,” she said, twirling her floaty dress underneath my raised arm.

  “I didn’t know we had a song,” I said.

  “We do now.” She laced her fingers around my neck.

  “How about the father daughter dance?” Carl yelled out as we made our way to the dance again. “It’s tradition.”

  “Next one,” Ashton called back. “Did I just hear that dirty word tradition again? Kind of keeps me from getting what I want. The chance to put my arms around my husband whenever I want to.”

  We danced around the makeshift dance floor that was situated next to the pool. Candles and flowers floated in the shimmering blue water as we danced.

  “I am completely and deliriously happy as I can be, Ashton Andrews.”

  “I love the way that sounds,” I said. “Ashton Andrews.”

  “I’m yours forever,” my wife said.

  “And ever,” I added before I kissed her.

  Epilogue

  I winced as the tech squirted some cold jelly like substance onto my swollen stomach. The instrument she held rolled the blue jelly around and around in circles, pressing here and there while she closely watched the monitor. Every few seconds the tech would pause as she took measurements or printed out a picture.

  Quinn and I peered at the fuzzy black and white screen and tried to figure out what we were supposed to see or recognize. Right now everything just looked like a big old blob adrift on a sea of grey static. The tech’s silence had me a little worried. Quinn squeezed my hand in reassurance.

  Finally, Gretchen, the ultrasound tech asked the million dollar question, “Are we ready to find out the sex today?”

  Six weeks later after our dream honeymoon, we’d discovered that we were expecting a baby. A honeymoon baby as my mother called it. We were at my sixteen week appointment to find out how the baby was doing. And hopefully find out if we were having a boy or girl.

  I knew that Quinn secretly wanted a boy. I’d caught him looking through baby magazines, gazing at the football themed baby nurseries and pointing out little outfits with cool sayings on them lik
e LADIES I’VE ARRIVED with a bow tie applique or PARTY AT MY CRIB 2AM.

  Well, I couldn’t be too hard on Quinn. I had been sneaking glances at pink frilly things and posting ideas on Pinterest for my dream nursery in colors of pink, mint, and soft yellows. However, the old saying is true. We would be happy with a healthy baby of either sex.

  With excitement in his eyes, Quinn looked at me for approval. We’d talked in advance about whether or not we wanted to know the sex of our baby and spoil the delivery day surprise. Quinn thought it was a good idea to know so we could be prepared and I couldn’t agree more. I had over a hundred nursery ideas pinned on my page and I needed to narrow them down pronto.

  “Yes, we want to know!” I answered quickly before I could change my mind.

  “Okay, let’s take a quick peek and see if we can tell with any level of certainty. Then I’ll do the rest of my measurements.” She scrolled the instrument around some more, pressing lightly on my belly.

  We kept our eyes glued to the screen. Suddenly, everything came into focus and we could finally see the image of our baby. Or our little peanut, as we like to call the little one. It squirmed around in my belly, little legs kicking and arms flailing about. Heartbeat pounding. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the screen. To see the little life that Quinn and I created together made my eyes swell up with tears. I couldn’t believe I was actually carrying our first child in my belly.

  “If I can just get a better look…” Gretchen pushed a couple of buttons and peered at the screen. “Ok…mmmhmm, well this little one won’t stop squirming to give me a better look.”

  Butterflies swarmed my stomach from the anticipation. Quinn blew out a breath as the three of us continued to stare at the monitor, willing the baby to untangle its legs so we could get a better look.

  “Roll on your side, kinda rocking back and forth. Let’s see if that helps position the baby so we can see between the legs,” Gretchen recommended.

  Quinn held my back and shoulder as I squirmed around on the table hoping this maneuver would work. ‘Come on little peanut, cooperate with your mama so we can see you,” he encouraged.

  A couple more swirls of the instrument and Gretchen finally yelped. “We got it!”

  Quinn and I looked at each other and smiled. This was it. Our lives would be changed forever.

  Gretchen pointed to a spot on the screen. “Well, congratulations mom and dad. You’re having a girl.”

  Quinn kissed me on the lips, and the joy that squeezed my heart muscle couldn’t be articulated. I was going to have a daughter. A little sweet girl that I would smother with affection each and every day. A daughter.

  “A little girl,” he whispered in my ear. “We’re having a girl. She’s going to look just like her beautiful momma.”

  “I want us to name her Ellie,” I said. I had given this a lot of thought over the past few weeks. Ellie. Nanna’s name. I knew that she’d meant the world to Quinn and he was still racked with guilt over her passing. I knew he was having a hard time forgiving himself for the accident and I hoped this small gesture would help. A beautiful new life to pay homage to the one we’d lost. A tear rolled down his face as he smiled.

  “It’s the perfect name,” he agreed.

  Gretchen printed a few photos of the ultrasound and handed them to us. “She looks healthy, guys. We’re still on track for a spring baby. Possibly Easter. If you want to get dressed I’ll send Doctor Jennings in to talk to you and confirm the due date.”

  “Our dreams have come true,” I said as the tech shut the door to give us privacy. Quinn helped me off the table and I slipped out the hospital gown and into my clothes. “We’re having our own little family.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered into my ear as he held me in his arms.

  “For what?”

  “For giving me a daughter. For loving me. For naming her after Nanna. I couldn’t ask for a better partner, a better wife. I love you so much.”

  I pulled Quinn in tightly and pressed my lips against his. “Words are inadequate to fully express the joy I’m feeling right now. You. Our daughter. I’m so happy I found love twice with the same man. Thank God for second chances, Quinn Andrews.”

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  Sinker by Colleen Charles ©2017 All Rights Reserved

  Wasted Love by Colleen Charles ©2016 All Rights Reserved

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Colleen Charles loves reading and writing stories that entertain and sweep the reader away from their everyday life.

 

 

 


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