by Cindi Madsen
“You say that, but you know you loved putting it all together.” Jillian handed me a water bottle—I’d avoided it so I wouldn’t need the bathroom five minutes in, but now that I couldn’t breathe, needing to pee seemed like the least of my problems. “You don’t want me to refer to you as the most difficult bride I’ve ever had to work with, do you?”
I shot her a dirty look. “I’m not difficult. Paranoid, sure, and for good reason, but not difficult.” I took a healthy gulp of water, wishing it did a better job of calming me down.
“Think about it rationally. Brendan loves you. He’s loved you since you were both little kids. It’s, like, the most romantic story ever. Far better than what’s his bucket.” Jillian patted my shoulder. “There’s no way he’d stand you up.”
I sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “You’re right. Of course he wouldn’t do that to me.” Still, I’d reluctantly left him at home that morning, wishing I could’ve cuffed him to me. I’d done the no seeing each other all made up before the ceremony thing, and it had done nothing for my luck.
Everything was different this time, yet I couldn’t stop thinking of last time, despite the closure I’d had with Grant. Despite that my mom was here and she and my dad had been semi-civil to each other. Dad was all set to walk me down the aisle, too, and he’d given me a pep talk last night.
I hadn’t even asked the question, though, mostly because I was scared to be wrong again. But it was like it wanted to be let out, and every time I’d looked at Jillian all morning I’d almost asked it. Can you believe I’m getting married?
Maybe I’d utter it in my head once Brendan and I were in the front of the room, the preacher about to pronounce us husband and wife—that “if anyone objects” part had been removed. I had enough things giving me heart palpitations already.
“Ready to go in?” Jillian asked.
I started toward the door, but the chime of her text stopped me. She frowned at her phone. Then she sent a text. Got one. She turned away and called someone, but whoever it was didn’t appear to answer, because she slowly lowered the phone without saying anything. When she glanced at me, she shot me the fakest smile ever, a hint of worry flashing behind her eyes.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
I crossed my arms and squared off in front of her. “Jillian. I know when something’s off at a wedding. It’s what I’ve built my entire career on.”
“Brendan’s just…not…quite…here. Yet! But he will be! Any minute, so don’t you worry!”
Of course my body did the opposite of what she told it to do, worry rising up, making my palms sweat and my throat go dry. It didn’t help that she’d been overly enthusiastic about her reassurances, all exclamations. Rookie mistake, really. “Not here? Did you call him?”
The way she bit her lip told me all I needed to know. That was the call she’d made, and he hadn’t answered.
My breaths came faster and faster, but no air filled my lungs. Dizziness set in; my knees wobbled. “This is feeling a little too déjà vu for me. You add a boatload of people dressed in obnoxious Hawaiian print staring at me, and I’m back in Jamaica.”
“Yeah, but this is different,” Jillian said. “Brendan’s excited about the wedding, and I know he wouldn’t hurt you. Plus, he’s seen me wield a knife.”
I pushed my hands into my hair, beyond caring if I messed it up. Tears blurred my eyes. The world around me spun.
“Give me just one sec.” Jillian stepped off to the side, pulled out my cell—the one she’d confiscated so I didn’t work my entire wedding—and dialed a number. Brendan’s, no doubt. She hung up without speaking.
I stepped just through the open door and peeked inside the chapel. People filled the benches, all waiting for a ceremony. Phoebe was even in the back—I hadn’t invited her, but apparently she was George from Classifieds’ plus one. She was going to have a field day, and I wasn’t sure if I should cry or start throwing stuff. At least Wild Bill was also here, because I had a feeling I might need him to do some skull crushing or anger managing—I wasn’t sure which yet. Possibly both.
I turned to Jillian. “What time is it?”
“Traffic was so bad this morning, don’t you think?”
I held out my hand for my phone and Jillian hesitantly dropped it into my hand. The display told me that we had five minutes until the ceremony was scheduled to start.
And my groom wasn’t here and wasn’t answering the phone. “Not again,” I muttered, the words leaking out of me and taking all my energy. I sagged against the building. The seriousness of the situation was setting in; my doubts were turning to cold, hard facts. He wasn’t here. Not answering his phone. Might not be coming at all. My internal organs shriveled up and started dying slow and painful deaths. Darkness crowded in, pushing out every happy emotion I’d ever had.
“Why don’t we go back inside and wait in the air-conditioned room?” Jillian tugged me toward the door, but I pulled free.
If I were on the other side of me, I’d be thinking of a way to take things down from Code Fuchsia. Since I wasn’t on the other side, though, I was about to see what was past that level. Rage Red? Apocalyptic Black?
Whatever color code I was, if Brendan didn’t show up in five minutes, I was running away. I’d never write another column again. Wedding planning was out, too. There was no hope after this, just crushing depression that threatened to bury me deeper each day. Maybe I’d join the circus. Be the woman who made men commit and bolt last minute. People would pay to see that, right?
A guy in a tux came around the front of the building. Not my guy. Nope, his groomsman, Adam, who worked in the control room of the Aces Casino. He’d shown up. That sure was nice of him. He motioned Jillian over. She looked at me and I knew she was afraid to leave me alone.
If she told me not to worry one more time, I might just turn bridezilla on her. Difficult would look like a walk in the park. She hurried over to Adam. As they spoke, she swung her arms around, and I couldn’t tell if it was angry or upset or clueless or breaking awful, horrible news.
My breaths tripped over each other, so fast my head started to spin. Which was no good. If I needed to flee, I needed to drive.
Then Jillian and Adam disappeared around the front of the church, and I wondered if they’d decided to get out while the getting was good.
An eternity later—or maybe a couple of minutes, it’s hard to keep track of time when the ground is opening under you and you’re dying inside, all while trying to hold back tears because waterproof mascara is a lie—Adam came back with Jillian. Her hands were out, the way one would approach a ravenous tiger, and alarm screeched through my veins. “Now, I want you to remain calm,” she said.
“Calm?” My voice was so high I could hardly believe it was mine. “I’m getting stood up at the altar for the second time in less than a year and you want me to remain calm?”
“You’re not getting stood up,” Adam said. “Brendan was in a car accident.”
I jerked my head toward him, my heart dropping like a lead weight in my gut. “What? Is he okay?” Talk about whiplash emotions. From crushed to being worried he was about to tell me something that’d crush me even worse than being stood up again.
Adam put his hand on my shoulder. “It was a minor accident—a fender bender, really. He’s fine, but the cops arrived on the scene and wouldn’t let him go until the paramedics checked him out. The passenger side got crunched, and his cell with it, so that’s why he didn’t call.”
Jillian smiled, and I didn’t get how she could right now. Was she not listening? And having the passenger side being smashed in didn’t sound like a freaking fender bender. “Dakota, Brendan just got here. One of the officers gave him a ride, and he’s here, and he wants to get married still.”
All the air whooshed out of my lungs and I plunked down on the ground, too relieved to care if my dress got dirty. Brendan was okay. Brendan wanted to get married.
As
if my brain needed to hear it again, I inwardly repeated it to myself over and over. He’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay.
He wants to get married.
Jillian squatted to be on my level. “He was going to come over and talk to you—I’ve never seen him so anxious. But I figure you guys have had enough bad luck, and letting him see you after surviving his morning seemed like tempting fate. So I told him to get into place like we practiced yesterday.”
Blinking at the forming tears wasn’t holding them back, so I waved my hand in front of my eyes. It wasn’t exactly helping, either. Jillian handed me the tissues she’d tucked into her sash—the way I’d shown her to.
I dabbed at my eyes and inhaled a couple of heaving breaths.
Adam jabbed a finger over his shoulder. “I’m going to go inside and get into place. But I swore to Brendan I’d personally check you were okay, and that you understood. So…” He leaned in, his eyebrows all scrunched up. “Are you? Okay?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t quite sure. Jillian helped me to my feet and brushed off my dress. Adam went around the front and Jillian ushered me in the back door. We lined up at the back corner as we’d rehearsed, and I managed to get my tears under control.
Jillian went to take a step, but I reached out and grabbed her arm. “Wait,” I whispered, and she spun around. “Can you believe I’m getting married today?”
A smile curved her lips, and she threw her arms around me in a display of girliness that wasn’t usually her style. “Yes, yes you are.”
Dad stepped into place, extending his elbow to me. I hooked onto it and then leaned in and kissed his cheek. Mom and I were still working things out, but this guy had been there for me through everything, and the fact that he was here to give me away made gratitude warm me from the inside out. More tears tried to form and I quickly blinked them away. Dad covered my hand on his arm with his free one and gave it a quick squeeze.
The “Wedding March” started up, and although I’d instructed brides on what to do hundreds of times, I almost forgot what I was supposed to do. For one, my view was skewed. I felt like I was in the wrong place, and why was the aisle so damn long?
But then I saw Brendan at the front. Standing there, waiting for me. More tears formed, and I knew it’d be a miracle if I made it through the ceremony without my mascara relocating to my cheeks.
Dad kept me steady as we made our way down the aisle. Just before he handed me off to Brendan, he leaned in and whispered, “I’m proud of you, girl. Keep your eye on the prize and you’ll be fine.”
Brendan was definitely a nice-looking prize. There was a faint scratch on the side of his face, but other than that, there were no signs of injury. The tux made him look all debonair and yummy, and the grin he shot me made my heart soar.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
He nodded. “And getting better by the second.”
I flung my arms around him and smashed my lips to his. Because he was okay, and he was here, and I loved him so much I couldn’t wait.
The preacher cleared his throat. “I’m not quite to that part yet. Why don’t you guys get up here and I’ll get you married?”
Brendan took my hand, lacing my fingers with his, and we made the final steps to the altar together. The preacher raised his voice and addressed the crowd. “We are gathered here today for the union of Brendan West and Dakota Halifax…”
I tried to pay attention as he continued to talk, but all I could focus on was Brendan’s face and the feel of my hand in his. I couldn’t think clearly until after he grinned at me and said, “I do.” I, of course, did too.
And then the preacher said those magical words. “You may now kiss your bride.”
Brendan wrapped his arm around me, holding me steady as he lowered his mouth to mine. We’d shared a lot of kisses, and while this wasn’t our raciest—being in a chapel and all—it was different. Deeper. A celebration of our lives, officially merged together. I barely registered the people cheering for us.
“So.” Brendan kept me tight against him, his eyes peering into mine. “What do you think, Mrs. Dakota Jane West?”
I smiled and slipped my hands into the jacket of his tux, hugging him tight. “I think I totally got married today.”
Epilogue
GET READY TO WED by Dakota Halifax
Happily Ever After the Ceremony
I was scared to say anything about it before—you all know what a disaster my first attempt down the aisle turned out to be. But it’s official. I’m a married woman. I’d like to thank my vendors, family, friends, and everyone else who made it all possible. I had my dream wedding, and it was the happiest day of my life. That said, it wasn’t the wedding itself (even though it did rock) that made me so happy. It’s been the after that has made it all worth it. I know I’m still reeling from that newlywed high, so you’ll have to forgive me for going on and on, but my husband is amazing. It just keeps getting better and better. I have to pinch myself constantly to make sure that I’m not dreaming. I know there’s going to be ups and downs. In fact, the very first day I met my husband he threw a stick at me and I punched him in the face. Of course, we were in second grade, and I’d like to think I’ve come a long way since then. Now we disagree on more grown-up things such as control of the remote, who’s the better driver, and how to decorate our living room.
What I’m trying to say is this: Brides, you don’t have to sweat the small stuff, because the reward of marrying the right guy is twenty times better than the perfect ceremony. If you’re a control-freak perfectionist like me, then you still want it to go perfectly, despite knowing that. I understand, which is why I spend my days trying to make that happen for every bride. But trust me, when you think back, the mishaps will only make the memories more vivid. Having your family and friends there to watch you commit yourself to someone you love is much more important than any minor fiasco.
So my advice today is for both before and after the ceremony. Take some time to relax and enjoy each other. I had more fun on my honeymoon than I did the entire time at my wedding because it was completely stress-free. Put aside your ginormous to-do list, slow down, and be happy you found someone you love. I hope your weddings all go as planned, but more than that, I wish you the best of luck on your happily ever after.
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Acknowledgments
Where to even start? This book has been quite the journey, and I was pretty sure it was trying to kill me there for a bit. Luckily, both it and I survived. I’d like to thank Amanda Price for being my enforcer when I needed help focusing, for helping me play “this line or that one” as I wrote, and for always being there when I need to chat or vent, as well as making me laugh. Best friend EVER! Big thanks to my editor, Stacy Abrams, for her mad editing skills. When I turned this book in, I told her I knew something was missing, and thank goodness she pinpointed what it was and helped make it so much better! Every book I’m so grateful to her, Alycia Tornetta, Liz Pelletier, and all of the people at Entangled Publishing for giving my books, and me, a home. I love writing for you all!
Thanks to Candace Havens for her input and enthusiasm for the story, to my publicity team, Katie Clapsadl and Heather Riccio, and to Libby Murphy, for designing the perfect cover. Big shout out to CKM, for all the emails and support. Rachel Harris, Tara Fuller, Melissa West, Lisa Burstein, Cole Gibsen, Rhonda Helms, Christina Lee, Stina Lindenblatt, Wendy Higgins, and Megan Erickson, what would I do without you? I’m so happy I could meet so many of you in person this year—we’ll always have Coops, right? LOL. I heart you girls so hard!
My family and friends are always so great at cheering me on through all the writing stages. Thanks to my neighbor, Mare, who has taken my kids so I can write a
nd edit, and to my awesome husband, Michael, who helps pick up the slack when the cleaning and cooking fall by the writing wayside. And to my kids, who get as excited about book releases as I do (probably because it means dinner out with soda and dessert). Thanks to my parents, siblings, and in-laws, who are always checking in on how the books are going. I feel so lucky to do something I love, and to have the people I love get that.
As usual, gotta say hi to my TZWNDU gals, who give me a place to chat, and to the Colorado Indie Authors for all the support and fun lunches. Extra hugs to Anne Eliot for always being there for me and for making me laugh until I cry, whether over the phone or while taking awesome selfies in hipster restaurants. Thanks to the countless bloggers who help me spread the word about my books and are always there when I need a favor. Even better, I now count you as friends, and just have to say you gals rock!
Big thanks to my readers! So many of you have sent me messages and tweets and I appreciate every single one of them and you. Thanks so much!
About the Author
Cindi Madsen sits at her computer every chance she gets, plotting revising, and falling in love with her characters. Sometimes it makes her a crazy person. Without it, she’d be even crazier. She has way too many shoes, but can always find a reason to buy a new pretty pair, especially if they’re sparkly, colorful, or super tall. She loves music, dancing, and wishes summer lasted all year long. She lives in Colorado (where summer is most definitely NOT all year long) with her husband and three children.
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