Legally Wedded (Legally in Love Book 3)

by Griffith, Jennifer

  Morgan laughed softly, that flirty, feminine laugh that went straight to his heart. She was looking up at him, her blue eyes deep and wide and expectant. At the dip of her collarbone lay the jewel he’d given her on Christmas Day, glinting a dark red against the twinkle of the tree’s lights. Perfect.

  Josh, heart pounding in his chest and his ears, slipped to one knee and pulled from his shirt pocket the thing he’d been holding onto for just this moment.

  “Morgan. Everything we’ve done has been out of order. Marriage, then love, then dating. And I’m sure I made you suffer to some degree. Like Oscar Wilde said, if we men married the women we deserved, we’d have a very bad time of it. I’ll never deserve you, but I’ll live the rest of my life trying to. And I’ll do everything in my power to make your life blissful.” These were big promises, but looking up at the calm strength of her face, its beauty and goodness, for the moment, he actually believed he could deliver on them. He was invincible with the power of this woman’s love. “Morgan. Will you be my wife?”

  Josh knew Morgan understood all he meant by this. It was more than just a living arrangement, a joining of their legal affairs, or a promise to support or be there for one another. It was a request to be one with him, from now on and forever. The thought of forever with Morgan gave him a vast vision that he’d felt when the two of them stood together looking out over the waves and broad horizon of the Pacific Ocean—a never ending expanse to explore. Together. Come what may.

  Morgan took a second and inhaled sharply. She licked her lips and bit them. A smile broke out over her face, and she nodded slightly. “I love you.”

  “I love you.” The words came so easily off his tongue. Why had he waited to say them? With tenderness, he reached for Morgan’s hand. “I kept this warm for you.” He slid the ring back onto her ring finger. It sparkled against the lights, just like the necklace and earrings did. “But I got this as well. The ruby was only an engagement ring. I thought we needed this.” From his pocket he pulled a second ring, a simple gold band, and slid it onto her finger beside the ruby solitaire. “It’s more than a promise—it’s a vow.”

  Morgan slid off the chair and onto her knees beside him. He went onto both his knees, and then he kissed her with the tenderness and passion he’d reserved for his someday wife—who happened to be here in his arms, as his present day wife, at this very moment.

  “Your wedding band?” Morgan whispered as she ran her hands up and down his arms and down to his fingers.

  “I never took it off.”

  At that, she seemed to return the affection he’d felt for her but with exponential passion. Her breathing sped and she seemed to ache for him like he wanted her as his wedded wife.

  “Josh, I never was able to give you your Christmas gift.” Morgan’s face reddened, and Josh wondered what she was so worried about. “It’s under the tree.”

  Josh leaned over and dug around beneath the branches until he found a small box tagged with his name on it in Morgan’s handwriting. The box looked dented on one side, but he’d ask about that later. For now, Morgan inhaled sharply as he lifted the lid. She was pretty cute when she was nervous.

  The moment Josh laid eyes on it, he laughed out loud. “Yeah, baby.” He pulled out the elastic, satin, and lace and swung it on his index finger. “That’s my signal. It’s time I did something else, Morgan.”

  She pulled back in alarm. “What?”

  He laughed, realizing she thought he might be pulling away and leaving her. Not a chance. He stood up and scooped her in his arms just like in the photo of them in the waves that had hung above their unused bed all these months.

  “Carry you over the threshold.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  “Josh and Morgan, I need the two of you to come for the pictures.” Mom clapped her hands at where Morgan and Josh were standing near the six-tiered white cake piled with spring lilacs and sugared purple pansies. It had turned out quite well, if Morgan did say so herself. “We have to get everyone together, and it’s like herding cats.”

  “Don’t you mean frogs, Mrs. Clark?” Josh teased, and Mom paused for a second to realize he was doing so. Mom was always caught off guard by his teasing, but she’d get it someday. They had a lot of years ahead of them.

  “Oh, Josh. You’re being the frog. Now, come on. Quit ogling the cake. Morgan did a masterpiece, I know, but you’re not going to get a single bite of the chocolate caramel fudge layer until after the pictures are done. Bride and groom in the center, party of the bride on this side, party of the groom on that.”

  Mom had transformed the back yard of the Campus House from the most beautifully landscaped back yard in Starry Point into the most beautiful wedding reception venue on the Oregon Coast, in spite of the frog motifs thrown in here and there. It took Morgan’s breath away to look at it—and to look around at all these people she had come to know and love, from Rich and Tory, to Siggy and Mom, to Chip and Heather who were representing the Bronco Hyatt contingency today.

  “Oh, Mr. Seagram. You’re going to go right here, next to the bride.” Mom placed Siggy in the line, and then she spoke to him confidentially on a theme she’d echoed a hundred times. “It was just so, so good of you to walk my daughter down the aisle at the church this morning. It would have made her father proud.” Mom always got choked up when she talked about Dad, even though he’d done so little for her in life. She must have really, really loved him.

  Siggy smiled. “It was my pleasure. I’ve grown to love Tory like a daughter these past several months. In fact, I probably like her about as much as I love your other daughter. And your poetry.”

  Mom blushed and bustled to fit absolutely everyone in the wedding party into the line. “Too bad you couldn’t be in your wedding dress, too, Morgan, since I originally planned this as a reception for you and Josh. But that belly of yours won’t permit it.” Mom patted Morgan’s growing baby. Why did people think a pregnancy automatically granted them permission to touch a woman’s stomach—something they’d never do otherwise? Besides, she was only four months along, barely showing. Then Mom whispered, “It’s almost like a honeymoon baby, isn’t it? How romantic for you and Josh.” Little did her mother know. “Just five months left and you’ll be a mother, and you’ll have a faint idea of how much I love you.”

  Then Tory gripped Morgan’s hand hard. “I’m so glad you’re my maid of honor.”

  “Matron.” Morgan laughed. It sounded old. But no question, she was a married woman, and therefore a matron. “I’m so glad you and Rich could be so happy together, and that you didn’t mind putting a rush order on your own wedding.”

  “Mom made people buy plane tickets. What choice did we have? But I was glad for the rush.” She looked up at Rich with a lovelight in her face. Morgan squeezed her sister’s hand hard. Tory and Rich’s three-month engagement (from Valentine’s Day to Memorial Day weekend) smoothed over all the non-refundable plane ticket problems, as well as taking the heat off Josh and Morgan. She’d never wanted a big party, even one as nice as this.

  “And isn’t it nice that I also like lavender and green?” Tory rolled her eyes.

  “Tory, you’re the soul of good-heartedness.”

  “No, you are, Morgan. Thanks for putting up with me all the time when I was pushing you in your relationship with Josh. I should have trusted you to figure it out in your own timing.”

  “Actually, I needed that push from you. Thanks.”

  “And I needed that push from you about school. I’m not enrolling at Clarendon like we planned, but I’m going to go to Astoria’s community college and get my office management degree so I can be Rich’s right hand man. Er, girl.”

  “Until the little Richards come along. Don’t wait too long. I don’t want all our baby’s cousins to be on the Hyatt side.” She glanced over at Heather, who was looking nearly ready to crack open, stomach first.

  Tory laughed and patted Morgan’s belly. See? Everyone did it.

  The photographer sna
pped a picture just then, which made the bride and her matron of honor laugh as Paulie’s shutter snapped in fast succession. He’d gone legit, quit his paparazzi gig, and his first big wedding shots would go on his online portfolio later this afternoon—thanks to Morgan and Josh. They’d recommended him to Tory and Rich for their wedding shoot when he said he needed some beautiful people for his first clients. That, and he’d be the baby’s photographer when Baby Hyatt came along in October. Morgan smiled at the thought. A year ago, she could never have dreamed she’d be standing here, between her own husband and her married sister, and expecting her first baby.

  When the photos finished, the guests began filing in, and Morgan and Josh found a wrought iron table beneath the white silk tent. When they thought no one was looking, she tossed a grape for him to catch in his mouth. When he did, expertly, he leaned over and caught her up in a kiss.

  “Ah, newlywed bliss.” Mr. Seagram strolled up and sat down beside them at their table. “I see it hasn’t worn off yet.”

  “Not yet.” Josh shook Siggy’s hand. Morgan still couldn’t believe he hadn’t prosecuted them—but instead had insisted they keep living in the house until Morgan graduated, which she did last week, her growing belly hiding under her long black gown. Moreover, he’d insisted they both come and start working for him at his various enterprises starting next week. Josh was going to be the head of a research lab Seagram owned in Starry Point, and Morgan would be part of his accounting team, at least until the baby was born.

  Most shocking of all, he’d refused to accept their return of the scholarship money. Instead, he insisted they use it for a down payment on a house, since they’d be moving out of this beautiful mansion in the next few days to make way for some other young married couple Seagram had decided to bless—and put on Darshelle’s interview radar. Josh and Morgan only had one more contractual filming: after the baby was born. Morgan couldn’t wait to see how Josh would be as a father. Just thinking of it made her heart warm.

  “I’m sure you’ve considered my request to name the baby Sigmund.”

  “Only if it’s a girl.” Josh joked, knowing Siggy was joking, too. “And if she’s as pretty as you are.”

  Seagram just laughed. “I’ve never been so excited for a baby’s birth.”

  “You’re still planning on being his—or her—godparent, I assume,” Morgan said, reaching her hand across the table and resting it on Mr. Seagram’s. He turned his hand over to press Morgan’s.

  “Of course.”

  Morgan really ought to stop apologizing for the trouble she’d caused him, for the stress they created with their deception, but it felt like she could never quite say it often enough. “Siggy, I wish there were a way to thank you enough for all you’ve done for us, especially after all we put you through on Christmas Day.”

  Seagram threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, never mind that. I knew all along there was something going on. Or not going on, as the case was. Svetlana told me first thing. She’s too loyal to keep a secret like that. I was just waiting it out, hoping the two of you would figure out for yourselves how in love you were. It was obvious to me the electricity snapping between you. You’d get it, I knew.”

  Morgan’s mouth hung open, and she had to force it shut. He’d known all along? Suddenly, a conversation with Svetlana came back to her and made a lot more sense—that the housekeeper apologized for not keeping their secret. Slowly, Morgan nodded. Then her eyes met Josh’s. “Yeah, it was always there. How could I resist him? He’s the smartest, best man I ever met.”

  Josh put his arm around Morgan’s waist and pulled her to him, yanking her onto his lap where he kissed her, clearly not caring who saw what at this point.

  “I think I’ll just go over and see what Desiree Clark is doing.” Seagram stood. “The mother of the bride could probably use a cold drink right now.”

  “Mr. Seagram.” Morgan tugged herself away from Josh’s insistence. “Thank you for making my mom feel special, especially about her new book coming out. It’s so important to her, and it’s nice she has a kind fan.”

  “I’m not simply being kind. Toads in the Sand is going to shake up the poetry world, guaranteed. It’s a worthy sequel to her debut.”

  Right. Morgan resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and let him wander off to his fandom. Absently she wondered whether Mom would eventually see how much Siggy was in love with her.

  Just then, up walked the last person Morgan expected to ever see. “Mr. Hyatt.” She edged her chair back and got to her feet. But Josh was already on his, telling her to stay sitting down.

  “Dad. What are you doing here?” Josh’s teeth sounded clenched when he talked. Clearly, the tension toward his father hadn’t subsided, even now. Morgan wished there was something she could do to facilitate it.

  “Please, Mr. Hyatt, sit down.”

  “Call me Bronco,” he said in his gruff bellow as he pulled out the chair and joined them, Josh not looking too pleased. “I’m not going to blister up your day for long. I’m on my way to Astoria and wanted to see my grandbaby. It’s looking like a lump right now, isn’t it.” Bronco craned his neck to eye Morgan’s stomach. Morgan shouldn’t have expected anything more tactful from him, and she decided to let it slide, but she was glad Josh obviously inherited a bigger dose of his mother’s personality than his father’s.

  “Now you’ve seen him. Or her. Thanks for dropping by.” The resentment palpitated off Josh. “See you at the christening, okay?” Well, at least he was consenting to that. Morgan exhaled a little.

  “Now, son. Don’t be so hasty. I’m actually here offering an olive branch.”

  “I don’t need your olive branch, or even the whole tree, if that was what you were offering. I’m making my own way, and I’m providing for my family, and we’re doing just fine. Sigmund Seagram has put us on our feet, and we’re not going to disappoint him.”

  Morgan swallowed hard. She knew Seagram couldn’t be anything but a prickly topic for Bronco. “He’s been very kind to us, Bronco. We owe him a lot. Our whole marriage, even.”

  Bronco harrumphed. “You’re reading too much into this, son. As always. I’m just here to apologize for the way things went down, what with that harpy of an old girlfriend you had, but as you can see, things always work out for the best when you accept that father knows best.”

  “Dad, your olive branch isn’t much of a branch. It’s not even much of a twig. The last thing I care about is an old girlfriend at this point.”

  “Well, that’s at least a relief. Your wife far outshines that one. And every other one, frankly. Good choice.” Bronco almost looked at Morgan with some love. It was new, and suddenly, she could see something in him that gave her hope for a real friendship somewhere down the line. She’d play the long game with him. After all, he was to be her children’s grandpa.

  Bronco leaned in. “I just want you to know that I never meant to hurt you. I only did it all for your good.” And then in a halting whisper he said, “I’m sorry, son.” And he got up and left.

  Josh stared after him for a long moment. Finally, he blinked a few times, pulling his head backward in surprise and shrugged a shoulder. “Never thought I’d hear those three words. Not from him.”

  Morgan rested a hand on Josh’s. Time could heal a lot of things. Maybe even this.

  The reception sailed on, and when it wound down and the bride and groom drove off in Rich’s highly decorated Just Married car, Morgan took a deep breath of the cool spring air. With relief, she grabbed Josh’s hand. “I could use a little toes in the sand time.” The stress of finals and then the wedding, all while being pregnant, had taken a toll.

  “What took you so long?” Josh sped her to the garage and placed her in the passenger side of her car. He liked driving the Mangusa more than the Land Rover, and she’d been a little leery of it ever since she tested the limits of its handling and speed a few months ago. In no time, Josh had them down at the beach, and Morgan kicked off her heels. They walked th
rough the sand, God’s pedicure.

  They walked a while, Morgan’s eyes alert for agates, even though it wasn’t the season, her soul content to just be at Josh’s side. The foamy edges of the waves lapped against their toes on this unseasonably warm spring day. Morgan inhaled deeply. “I love the smell of the salt.”

  Josh strolled along beside her, looking good in his white shirt, open at the collar, sleeves rolled up, pant legs rolled up, too. She knew she was probably getting the hem of her lilac-colored dress wet, but she didn’t care. Just being with him made everything else okay. How did she get this blessed?

  “It’s good we get to stay in Starry Point. You can have the beach anytime.” Josh stopped and took Morgan by the shoulders. She looked up into his face. He was smiling the smile that got her from the very first. It still penetrated her heart. But then it morphed into the wicked grin and he said, “I know why I like it so much.”

  “Oh? Why’s that? Because it reminds you of family outings at the beach as a kid?”

  “No. Because it reminds me of family outings at the beach as an adult. The engagement photos, the shipwreck…”

  The word conjured the memory of when she’d made him the picnic and then skipped eating it to show him how she was starting to feel about him last fall. “There was sand on my scalp for a week.”

  “I’ve always liked the way you make me feel at the beach.”

  “Is that right? You liked those family outings?” She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she remembered how she’d had to bury her shyness for him.

  Josh pulled her close, kneeling down and kissing the rounding of her belly. He could do that all he wanted. “Yeah, that shipwreck was when I knew I’d like to be the one to bring your babies to play in the waves.”

  “Really?” Morgan giggled that dumb laugh again. “It’s the first time I knew I’d never want anyone else to.”