Choosing Forever

by Mary B. Moore

  Grinning at my woman, I said the only thing that was in my head. “You’re so pretty.”

  Looking at me and doing a double take when she saw the grin on my face, she cleared her throat, she started again. “I, Angélique Sabine d’Arvor,” she did a quick glance at Gramps, raising an eyebrow. He gave her a thumb up and she continued. “I promise to be your best friend and have your back, regardless. Well, most of the time,” she gave me a wry smile. Yeah, family feud’s aside, I got it. “I promise to let you fight your own battles, especially on the Xbox. I can’t promise to share the covers and hot water, but I’ll try. I promise to love your family as if they were my own…”

  I was the one who interrupted her this time. “For the love of all things holy, don’t do that! Wait, is this a church? Does this count in America too? She didn’t mean it!”

  Sighing and crumbling up the piece of paper, she looked me straight in the eyes and said,” I promise to be with you through thick and thin, and to love you every step of the way.”

  Then it was my turn. Patting my pockets, I looked for a piece of paper but couldn’t find one. In fact, I wasn’t even sure what was meant to be on the paper, but she’d said such pretty things to me that I wanted to say some back, so I decided to wing it.

  “I, Brett Joseph Townsend,” I began, knowing full well that my asshole brothers would burst out laughing.

  “His initials are BJ,” my fucking grandfather chortled loudly. “That was a good one,” he reached round and smacked my dad on the back. I was still sure he’d given me and Tom our names out of badness even though he swore he hadn’t. At least I wasn’t Tom though – the thought made a strangled giggle burst out of me, making Sabine’s eyes narrow as she took in whatever didn’t seem right on my face.

  Swaying slightly, I patted my pockets again looking for something, but I wasn’t sure what. Oh shit, pretty words.

  “Nope,” I popped the p, purely because I really was drunk now. “No paper, imma gonna wing it,” I winked at the lady officiating who looked like she was watching a science experiment. “I, Brett Joseph Townsend, promise to save you if what happens in those natural disaster movies, you know like Armageddon or The Day After Tomorrow, happens. Wait, but not your parents,” I pointed my finger sternly in the direction of where her and her…twin were standing. When did she get a twin? “They’re mean and they smell.” I finished, and then thought of a winner. “Oh, and I’ll play you Aerosmith during it because they sing pretty songs.” Tapping my chin, I thought of the next one. “I promise to cuddle you every morning, even when your breath stinks, because I love your boobies,” I pointed at the pair in question, on both her and her twin again, because I didn’t want to leave the twin out. “I promise to never tell you ‘yes’ when you ask if something makes your ass look fat. Even if it’s that red dress that just looks bad.” Holy shit, this was freaking easy! “I also promise to love you even when you do those tiny little farts in your sleep. Oh, oh, oh, oh, and I promise to always give you a complement, even if you’re wearing the red dress. But seriously, it just looks…”

  “Brett!” Maya and my sister, Layla, hissed, stopping me. Oh, yay, Layla was here!

  “What? You’re interrupting my love words here,” I snapped at them. I mean come the hell on, I was on a roll. “What was I saying? Oh yeah, um,” I tapped my chin again. “Is there anything else?”

  “Oh, please let there be more,” Tony whined out, sounding like he was crying. It was hard to tell over the snorting and wheezing noises coming from where my brothers, Dad and Gramps were sitting.

  Focusing back on Sabine and her twin…holy shit there was a third? Blinking, I looked at Sabine and suddenly remembered what I wanted to say. “I promise to love you. Will you marry me? Please say yes! If you say no it will make me sad all day.” She pinched my arm and looked over at the lady who was standing there watching everything silently. I wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying either. “Oh, we’re getting married?” At the slow nod from the woman, I turned back to Sabine with a huge grin. “Goody. I take her,” I said firmly and indicated toward Sabine. “You may now proceed.”

  Sabine burst into tears and continued crying as we exchanged rings and signed the register thingy and certificates. They were obviously the happiest tears in the world. She only stopped when we beat the crap out of the anvil with the hammer. Then Layla, who had flown in the night before, walked up with a fancy little decorative bag which, when she opened it, was full of freaking chocolate fingers.

  My little chocolate finger munching princess was now Mrs. Townsend. My wife! Fuck, I needed a nap!

  Two hours later...

  My head was killing me and I’d never been so dehydrated in my life. Waking up on one of the benches in the hall that I remembered, after a couple of seconds of confusion, that I’d gotten married in had been hell. It was hard as a rock and my side felt like someone was twisting a knife in it where I’d been shot. What the fuck had happened?

  Knowing I needed to find my family, I walked carefully out of the hall and almost screamed when I hit the daylight. I needed to find some Aspirin or industrial strength painkillers as soon as possible.

  Remembering that we were having a meal at the venue’s restaurant, I walked in its direction and sighed with relief when I got out of the sun and into the darker room. That was until I looked and saw the glares on the faces of the women, including my beautiful wife’s.

  Oh, fuck my life. I was going to kill Tom.

  “He did it,” I pointed at Tom as I sat down heavily in the empty seat beside Sabine.

  All of the women's heads snapped in his direction and the previously smirking ass nugget sank down into his seat.

  “He was nervous…” he tried. “I didn’t know that being in Scotland got you drunk quicker like when you drink at a high altitude?” That was a lie and everyone else knew it. Scotland wasn’t at a higher altitude like that. “Cole made me do it!” He squealed, before getting out of his chair and running across the room. We watched as he ran out of the door, then ran back in and grabbed one of the plates that the waitress was bringing in our direction, before turning and running out again.

  Cole was laughing and shaking his head as he turned back to the table. Looking up, he took in all of the daggers being glared in his direction now. “Can you believe that guy? I mean, who would get their brother drunk before his wedding?” The end of it was almost inaudible as he whispered it and then gulped. With a long drawn out sigh as the plates were put down in front of everyone, he sank down into his seat and muttered, “You can’t hit me, I’m pregnant.”

  My wife must have ordered for me, because the waitress put a plate with a huge steak and mashed potatoes on it down in front of me. I wasn’t that hungover that I couldn’t inhale a big fat steak - something no man ever would or had been since the dawn of the fucking awesome that was steak.

  As I lifted the first mouthful up, there was a squeal followed by something thudding the bottom of the table making all of our glasses shake. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cole reach under the table to wrestle with something, his neck visibly straining above the death collar on his shirt as he fought with whatever it was.

  Then, Ebru’s hand with her fork in it, appeared back on the table and accompanied a huge beaming grin across her face.

  Shit head deserved that.

  Eleven

  SABINE

  Most wives maybe would have been upset with their husband getting so drunk that they passed out on their wedding day, but to me, it was an endearing characteristic of the Townsends to do something like that. I especially liked the fact that Ebru and Maya had been recording the ceremony, so now everyone got to witness it. Unfortunately, so did my sister, Seline.

  I’d called Seline and asked her if she could come, but she couldn’t get away from my parents who were even more vigilant after my departure, even all of these years later. Instead, Maya and Ebru had said that they would record it and we’d sent it to Seline to watch.

 
During the dinner, Brett had been messaging on his phone and I’d been about to elbow him when he’d turned around and had asked everyone to be quiet. Actually, it had been a quick ‘shut the fuck up for two fucking seconds’. Then he’d balanced his phone against a floral table arrangement at the end of the table as he FaceTime’d someone.

  When she’d answered, all of the women burst into tears because they knew how much I missed her and there was no doubting who she was considering how alike we looked. Then, she had given a speech, holding up a cup of coffee and whispering it from her room. She had seen the video by that point, so she couldn’t help mentioning my boobs and that she would have no issues telling me that my backside looked big in dresses if Brett wasn’t around when I needed the answer.

  Brett had also promised both of us that we’d go to France as soon as he could arrange it, especially after her nephew was born. I hadn’t been able to get through to her before now and I wanted to break the news to her and hear her response, and that had been the most perfect way to do it. She’d burst into tears and had started speaking to me in French, rapidly firing off questions and suggestions. He might have given history’s most questionable vows today and then passed out, but my husband was without a doubt the most amazing man in the world.

  Brett growling and wheezing got my attention as he struggled to undo the collar of his shirt. I had warned him that sizes were slightly different here than in the U.S., but he hadn’t listened and had paid the price for it. All night he’d been tugging at the collar, even after he’d undone the top button.

  “What the hell do they do to men here? No one could survive with collars like this,” with a final tug, a button missile when flying across the room. The loud sigh of relief from my husband as he then took in a big breath of oxygen was hilarious.

  “I think today went…” I searched for a word to describe the day.

  “I’m sorry,” he groaned as he walked toward me. “I was nervous and I thought you wouldn’t come. I also couldn’t sleep for shit last night because you weren’t there.” Aw merde, that was despicably adorable. I hadn’t been angry at him since dinner, but those words completely erased any of the remaining tension caused by my husband discussing my boobs, backside and ‘tiny farts’ in his vows. I wasn’t going near that last one with a bargepole, though. I wasn’t sure if he was telling the truth on that, or if he was just drunk, but I wanted to forget that it had ever happened. “So, when Tom gave me the whiskey I just drank it. I didn’t mean to get drunk!”

  He plopped down on the bed next to where I was now standing trying to figure out how to get out of my dress. It was an empire waisted Jane Austen style dress that gathered under my breasts and had intricate beading sewn along the top of it. I hadn’t wanted anything to press against my stomach, so this just floated over it. The back had a zip that stopped where the beading began, and then it had a row of tiny little buttons which I couldn’t reach.

  “Can you help me?” I turned my back to him so that he could see the issue.

  “I can try,” he started tugging at the top button. “Holy shit, did they use elves or something to do these up?” I burst out laughing because they really were that small. “Maybe I should use tweezers? I think my fingers are too fat.” He finally got the top button undone after tugging at it a bit more. “Yas, wait, shit there’s like twenty more!” A small panel of fabric covered the other buttons from sight, so the sound of frustration in his voice was understandable. After more tugging and cursing, he finally got to the last one. “He’s a slippy little fucker,” he muttered. “Ah fuck it!” He’d obviously reached the maximum on his patience and just ripped the button off and threw it across the room before undoing the zipper on my dress.

  “I got some special knickers for today,” I murmured as I took a couple of steps away from him. “With you passing out, though, I’m not sure that you deserve them.”

  Looking at me wide eyed, he watched every one of my movements as I lowered the first shoulder of my dress.

  “I’m sorry. Really really sorry,” he gulped as I held the top of the dress in place with one hand.

  I knew he was, I was just teasing the tête de noeud. Before he had joined us after his impromptu nap, the women had been telling me not to let him get away with what he’d done and to make him suffer, but I had actually found the whole episode endearing. In many ways, I was used to the perfectly put together and serious Brett, so seeing this side of him was refreshing.

  Taking pity on him, I lifted my hand and let my dress drop into a heap around my feet, revealing the new lingerie that I had bought for today and the tartan ribbon garter that I was wearing on my thigh. It was in a lovely dark green and navy-blue tartan with white lace trimming and had a tiny little bow at the front.

  “Holy shit,” he whispered, taking it all in.

  My bra was a white strapless lace one, and I was wearing the matching panties that came to just under my baby bump. I’d been worried that I would just look fat in comparison to how I’d looked the last time he’d seen me naked, but judging from his reaction that most definitely wasn’t the case.

  “Bon?” I asked, using the French word for good. For some reason, he loved me talking in French to him, so I figured now was the perfect time for it.

  “Yeah, I’ve definitely got one of those,” he muttered as he adjusted himself. Standing up, he walked the few steps over to where I was and then circled me. “Your skin,” he stroked his finger over my shoulder, “Is just perfect and so soft.” He drew a line down the center of my neck to where the clasp of the bra was. With one quick hand twist, it was undone and fell to the floor, landing on top of the heap of my dress silently. Kissing a trail to follow where his finger had been, he reached around and put his hand under my bump. “Knowing that part of me is growing right here, and seeing it,” he stopped to suck gently on a patch of skin on my neck, “does things to me.” Lifting his head, he picked me up out of the pile of my wedding dress and then carried me over to the bed, gently laying me down on it. Separating my legs, he lay in between them and lay over me, being careful not to put much pressure on the baby. “I love you,” he whispered before leaning down and giving me a soft, sweet kiss.

  When he raised up again, I lifted my hand to his face and gave him the words back. “I love you, too.” His lips lifted on the side that I was holding as half his mouth broke into a truly cocky Brett grin. “But,” I added in a stern voice as I traced the grinning side with my thumb, “You’re wearing too many clothes!”

  Bursting out laughing, Brett moved off me and onto his back. “Have at it, Mrs. Townsend.”

  And have at it I did. Straddling his waist, I started to undo the buttons on his shirt. The collar may have been tight, but the rest had fit him perfectly. The only issue was his cuffs which had a small button behind where the cufflinks had been. Once they were undone, he moved and took the shirt off completely, being careful not to tip me off him, and then threw it to the other side of the room. He’d already taken his shoes and socks off when we’d first come into the room, so it only left me with his belt and trousers to get rid of which took me no time at all. Standing at the bottom of the bed, I lowered his suit trousers and got my first glimpse of his underwear which made me laugh so hard I got a stitch.

  Coming out of the left of the slit that men had in their underpants for laziness, at least that’s what I assumed that it was for, were tentacles which travelled across his thigh and around the back of his bum. On the right of it, in big hazard style writing, was RELEASE THE KRAKEN.

  “Shut up,” he growled after I’d been laughing long enough for his liking. “It’s Cole’s fault.” He did an ab curl up and grabbed me, bringing me back to my original position of sitting astride him. Without his trousers between us, I could feel his hardness properly now and any residual laughter left. “Every time you laugh, your breasts move,” he voice was thick now with tension as he trailed his hands up my sides until he had a breast in each hand. “It was torture not touching you this w
hole time,” he swallowed audibly as he thumbed both of my nipples gently. “These have definitely gotten bigger,” he muttered before pulling me down toward him and taking a nipple into his mouth.

  Any ability to talk left me as my eyes closed and I felt a slight tugging with each pulling suck. My legs moved slightly to support me better as he licked and nipped his way across to the other one, before giving it the attention that he’d just given the first.

  I knew that my breasts had become more sensitive, but I didn’t realize they were this sensitive. I hope he didn’t like a full head of hair, because I wasn’t sure that he’d have any left by the time he was done.

  Brett

  I was fascinated and even more obsessed with her tits now. They’d always been the perfect size for my hands, but now there was extra to play with. The perfect little baby bump that she had was also doing things to me. Knowing that I’d gotten her pregnant, that I was responsible for that baby growing inside of her…a brief second of panic and guilt hit me about what I was about to do to his mom and if the baby would see it, but I tamped that down quickly. Unlike my imbecile brothers, I knew enough about biology to know there was no way I’d be poking him in the eye or traumatizing him for life.