Priest (A Standalone Bad Boy Romance Love Story)

by Claire Adams

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I’m just really excited…and I miss Paul.” I heard Marie laugh. “What? I did miss him.” Keeping with tradition, we had spent last night apart.

  “I’m sorry, sweetie, I’m sure you did…it’s just hard for me to imagine,” she winked at me. “He’s my little brother. I’m not supposed to be able to imagine it. Seriously though, I’m so glad he found you. You’ve been so good for him. I’ve never seen him so happy.”

  “It could be because he’s a champion,” I joked.

  Marie grinned and said, “Yes, knowing my brother and his incredibly large ego…I’m sure that has something to do with it. But I’ve never seen his eyes light up the way they do when you walk into a room, Jessie…not even when he looks at the octagon.”

  Laughing I said, “Good to know who…or what my competition is.”

  “Oh and thank you for not making me wear a weird dress,” she said. “I always pictured Paul marrying some girl who would want me to walk down the aisle with her in pink taffeta.”

  “God forbid,” I said. “Where did Victor go?”

  “He went to sit with Justin until the wedding starts. He said he looked lonely out there.”

  “Oh, he’s so sweet.”

  “He really is. He inherited his uncle’s good heart. Justin is pretty sweet too.”

  “I’m so glad you’re happy, Marie. After all you went through, you deserve it.”

  “Thank you,” she said, “I am happy, deliriously so.”

  “We’re here!” Debbie and Victoria came racing in the tent. They were dressed in their bridesmaid dresses. Marie was maid of honor so she had the same dress, but hers was cut just a little differently. I wanted everything to be light so the bridesmaid dresses were light green and made mostly out of lace with a silk underlay. The three women wore braided straw halos with orchids attached to it. Mine was similar, only I had a veil as well.

  “Hi ladies, so glad you could join us,” I said.

  “It’s her fault,” Debbie said of Victoria.

  “It is not. It’s Sam’s fault.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true. He couldn’t find his tie. He was panicking a little bit. But then Vicki decides to take the 405…”

  “It’s really fine,” I told them. “You’re all here. That’s all that matters. I’m so glad that you could all be here.”

  “Oh my God, Jessie, you look gorgeous!” Debbie had been in the tent for a full five minutes and she’d just now noticed my dress.

  “You like it?”

  “I love it!” she said.

  “Me too!” Vicki said. “Where did you get it?”

  “I got it when we were in Barcelona. There was this shop on the beach where the lady made all her dresses by hand. I love it.” I went with a classic white dress. The top of it was bandeau style with a lace overlay and tiny little spaghetti straps. She created the skirt by using layers of vintage and recycled fabrics and laces which was the part I thought was the coolest. They’re all different shades of white and the sash that ties just under my breasts is a light gray silk. The dress is completely lined in silk and it was all fit and tailored just for me. The other great part, I thought, was that it cost less than half of what something comparable would have been in the U.S. I loved it so much that I almost couldn’t bear the thought of only wearing it once. I was holding out the hope that someday Paul and I would have a little girl and she could grow up and wear it at her wedding. I do wish her luck with ever getting married though…with Paul as her dad.

  “I have champagne!” The wedding planner brought a bottle in that she told me she set aside especially for the bride and her “attendants” to toast with before the wedding began.

  She poured five glasses, but when she tried to hand one to Mom she said, “I don’t drink, but I have water I’ll toast with. Thanks.” I smiled at her and she smiled back. She’d come so far this year. We all had, really.

  Debbie raised her glass and said, “To Jessie and Paul, may your lives always be full of love.”

  They all toasted to that and drank. Marie held hers up next and said, “To Jessie and Paul, may your lives be better than those examples set before you.” I knew she was talking about her parents, but I think she suddenly realized what it may sound like to my mom and she added, “Or may you at least be wise enough to seek out help and make changes.” We all drank to that as well. I was sipping, I started out this relationship with Paul drunk and in wrinkled clothes…I really didn’t want to go into our marriage that same way.

  “Okay, here we go! Where’s the mother of the bride?” The music had started and Jeff was at the tent to pick up mom and take her down the aisle.

  She kissed me on the cheek as she passed and said, “I’m so proud of you I can hardly stand it. I love you Jessie girl.”

  “Right back at you mom. I love you too.”

  I peeked out and watched her and Jeff walk slowly to the harp music that was playing. He helped her take her seat up front and then he went to take his place near the groom, my groom…my man…Every time I had that thought, I had to stop what I was doing and smile. Victor came back into the tent and Marie helped him straighten his tie and find his ring pillow. He looked so cute in his little navy blue suit. After he was on his way, Sam was at the door of the tent. He and Debbie started down the aisle and when they were halfway there, Victoria and Jeff started their ascent. My stomach was suddenly full of butterflies. I knew I had nothing to be nervous about…I was marrying the man of my dreams. Everything was perfect.

  “Hey, you ready to do this?”

  “Hi Greg, I’m ready.”

  Greg Madison held out his arm to me and when I took it, he kissed me on the cheek and said, “You look really pretty, Jessie…but are you sure you want to marry a fighter?”

  I laughed, “I guess I have to. I wrote the vows around that theme already.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re stuck then,” he said, “They probably wouldn’t work for another kind of athlete.”

  Laughing again I said, “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boss ever and I’m really lucky to have you?”

  Greg looked like he was thinking about it and then he said, “Not lately,” with a smile. Then he said, “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you as a worker and a friend?”

  “Not lately,” I said. “Thank you for everything.”

  He smiled again and said, “Thank you for letting us be a part of your life.”

  I heard the wedding march begin. Greg and I stepped to the edge of the opening in the tent and watched as all of the wedding guests rose to their feet. Greg and I began our walk down the path towards the altar. It was the walk towards my future and I couldn’t wait to get there. Once I was outside where I could see, my eyes found Paul. He was standing there all dressed up looking like every woman’s fantasy man, and I still sometimes had a hard time believing that he was all mine. I can’t even begin to imagine how I got so lucky but I will be eternally grateful that I just happened to work at the gym that my soulmate was going to walk into.

  When we reached the altar I heard the guests behind us take a seat as Greg lifted my veil and kissed my cheek again. “I love you, kid,” he said.

  “I love you too.”

  He smiled through the tears that had sprung up in his eyes and turning slightly, he gave my hand to Paul. Paul took it and wrapped his fingers through mine. The pastor from the church where Mom did her NA meetings was performing the ceremony. He did the whole “dearly beloved” and “who gives this woman?” yadi yada and then he turned it back over to Paul and I for our vows. We had written part of them together and then each of us had also written our own part to read to the other. We did rock, paper, scissors the night before to see who had to go first. It was a very diplomatic process, I thought. Of course I had won and that meant Paul had to go first. I may not have thought it so diplomatic if I’d lost. Paul looked a little nervous as he cleared his throat and turned towards me.

  With my hands in hi
s he said, “Jessie, I promise as your husband to be spontaneous and to cherish each moment we have together and to always be fair and willing to try new things. I promise to witness your beautiful life to always take time for us, to dream with you, to fight for you, to always be in your corner and never take another side. I promise to be your biggest fan and while you chase your dreams I promise to encourage you and to love you with my actions and not my words.” God, I love this man. I was crying and my make-up was probably running and I didn’t even care.

  “Paul, I promise to laugh at all of your jokes, to appreciate you always, to hug you just because and to never forget how to play just for the sake of playing. I promise to never leave your side no matter where life takes us. I will always be ready to do battle for you. I will watch UFC on pay per view with you; I will go to everyone of your fights and no matter how strong the impulse is I will never throw in the white towel. I love you so much, Paul. I feel like my life has just been hanging around all of these years, waiting for you.”

  My big, tough fighter had tears in his eyes.

  We both had to dab at our eyes before we went on to do the next part together, “I Jessie” and “I Paul” take “Paul” and “Jessie” to be my partner, sparring or championship, to love what I know about you and trust what I haven’t yet discovered. I eagerly anticipate the chance for us to grow together getting to know the people we will become and falling a little bit more in love every day. I will love and cherish you through whatever life may bring.”

  The pastor picked it up from there and asked for objections…there were none which was good because I may have gotten my dress dirty, kicking their ass. Then, he let us slip on the rings and say, “I thee wed,” before finally at last pronouncing us man and wife. We turned towards our guests who were now on their feet as he said, “I’d like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Paul and Jessie Delport. What God has joined together, may no man put asunder.”

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  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 Claire Adams