“Yes, yes, yes!” Storm yelled, kissing him and hugging him tightly. After that there were no more words between them for the rest of the night.
Epilogue
There was a storm coming. Inside the tiny chapel the guests were oblivious to the wind and rain just outside the gates. The bride’s feet were bare as she walked down the aisle with her wild curly hair flowing behind her. She had wanted to sweep the unruly mass up into an elegant bun that was befitting a bride, but her husband would hear nothing of it. He loved her hair and wanted to watch her coming down the aisle with her white blond curls wild around her face. Shane, the flower boy, best man and ring bearer, all wrapped up in one, was so ecstatic that he could barely sprinkle the little flowers they had given him on the ground and hold the cushion with the ring in place. Laughing and smiling, the couple faced each other in front of the preacher for the second time in seven years.
“Do you Cairo Kavanaugh Kane take Jessica Amanda Storm to be your lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold in sickness and in health from this day forward?” The preacher asked solemnly.
“I do.” The love and the certainty of the statement resonated throughout the chapel bringing knowing looks, blushes and smiles to the guests’ faces.
“Do you Jessica Storm take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold in sickness and in health from this day forward?”
A twinkle of mischief entered the bride’s eyes. She hesitated a full second, causing the guests to shift uneasily and Cairo’s grip on her hand to tighten, before finally answering
“I do.” She said, her mouth twitching mischievously.
“I’ll make you pay for that.” Cairo promised his big smile belying his stern words.
“Do you promise?” She asked provocatively.
“I do.” His words were said loudly, causing Shane, who was in earshot, to chuckle wickedly.
The preacher coughed delicately to get the couple’s attention. When that didn’t work, he coughed again loudly. “The rings; maybe you can produce the rings?” He suggested clearly at his wit’s end.
Cairo turned to his son who handed him a simple platinum band that rested on an ivory pillow. Before placing the band on her finger, he read the one word inscription written inside the ring.
“Mine.” He read out loud. “You are mine.” Cairo declared to Storm, to God, to the guests and to anyone else who would listen. He wanted everyone to know that he now had his heart’s desire.
Storm took the last ring from the pillow. “Yours.” She said reading the inscription inside the ring. “I will always be yours.” She vowed. Smiling, she rose up on her toes to whisper something naughty in his ears. Her husband’s eyes smoldered.
“Well then,” the preacher interrupted, desperate to complete the nuptials of the volatile couple. “Shall we continue?” He took their silence for consent. “With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the br . . . ”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence. The couple was way ahead of him.
Author’s Note
I hope you’ve enjoyed reading Tropical Storm as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you have, please consider leaving a review at the major sites such as Amazon and Goodreads. It’s the greatest gift you can give an author, and I would very much appreciate it. I love hearing from readers and your recommendations are a wonderful way for booklovers to discover great new novels.
Thank you,
Stefanie Graham
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