by Tiffany Snow
“We can’t just leave him here,” I said, my voice thick. “It’s not right.”
“I’m sorry, darling, but we have no choice.” Devon said gently. “We can’t just turn up at the police station with a dead body.”
Logically, that made sense, but I felt a guilty kind of horror at leaving Scott in the sand as Devon led me away.
I had to lean on him pretty heavily as we made our way back from the beach to the road. Devon flagged down a cab that took us back to our hotel, and I was never so glad to see a cheap motel room than when Devon unlocked the door and let me inside.
Looking in the bathroom mirror, I was relieved to see that somehow the dress had escaped unscathed. No blood marred the fabric, and while it needed to be cleaned, it was otherwise in pristine condition.
I grabbed a washcloth and began wiping the blood from my face. My head felt weird, like it was buzzing on the inside, but there was no pain and I was more grateful for that. The weight of the ring on my finger was new and unfamiliar and I paused, glancing down at my hand.
The lights made the diamond sparkle like fire and I lost my breath all over again staring at it. I was engaged. Devon had asked me to marry him. And maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t going to die.
The next morning, Devon “traded in” our SUV for a convertible for the drive to Key West. I didn’t ask where he’d gotten it and he didn’t offer an explanation as he held the passenger door open for me. I tied the scarf I’d pilfered over my hair, slipped on my sunglasses, and enjoyed the warm sunshine and breeze as he drove.
I was wearing a cheap sundress I’d picked up at the same market where I’d snatched the scarf. Thin and light, it was perfect for the heat, the spaghetti straps leaving my arms bare, though Devon had insisted I put on sunscreen or he’d put the top up on the convertible.
I’d never driven over the Keys before, and the endless bridge over the sparkling water fascinated me. Traffic was light and we passed few cars. It was difficult to talk with the wind rushing by, but that was okay. It felt good just to be alive and pain free. Devon held my hand in the space between us, his thumb occasionally brushing over the ring on my finger, as though to reassure himself that it was still there. I didn’t mind. I kept glancing down every once in a while too, just to admire it.
I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. I knew the threat of Vega still loomed, but for the first time, I was hopeful. We’d made it this far, against impossible odds. Maybe God was finally smiling on me.
We stopped for lunch at this little hole in the wall on one of the Keys. They served fresh, fried grouper sandwiches that melted in my mouth. Devon and I sat at a dilapidated picnic table under the shade of a few palm trees, getting sauce on our hands and grease on our mouths.
He told me of a “chap I once knew” who was the “luckiest unlucky bloke on the planet” and that you “wouldn’t want to be standing next to him in a firefight.” I laughed at the absurd stories and sipped on the piña colada he’d insisted I have.
We talked for a while, not in any hurry, and I didn’t mind. I was happier than I’d been in my entire life, and I was loath to end our journey and let the real world of Vega and the Shadow intrude.
But we couldn’t tarry forever and soon we were back in the car. Devon felt I’d been in the sun enough so he closed the roof and turned on the air-conditioning for the rest of the drive. I was dozing in the seat when he pulled to a stop. Coming awake, I yawned behind my hand as I looked around.
We were in front of a really nice hotel, and I’d hardly gotten a glimpse at the “Casa Marina” sign before a valet was opening my door.
“Welcome,” he said with a smile. I smiled back as I stepped out. Devon was handling the ticket for the car as another valet opened the trunk.
“I’ll take that one,” Devon said, grabbing the duffel that contained all his weapons.
We walked inside and I craned my neck, taking it all in. It was beautiful, with hardwood floors and expansive windows in the lobby. My gaze caught on the sight of the ocean outside. Palm trees flanked a paved path, which ran straight from the doors to the beach, lined on both sides with long, narrow pools of water. It was beautiful and the ocean was just yards away.
I drifted to the windows to see better while Devon checked in. Some workers outside were setting up a few white wooden folding chairs on one side of the beach, while others tied white organza and flowers to an iron arch. If I’d had to guess, I’d have assumed they were setting up for a wedding.
“Do you like it?” Devon asked. He’d come up behind me and slid his arms around my waist. I leaned back against him.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. It rivaled the hotel we’d stayed in while on Maui just a few months ago.
“Do you think you’d like to be married here? On the beach?”
Surprised, I twisted in his arms so I could look up at him. “Really? We could?”
He nodded toward the outside. “They’re setting it up now. If that’s what you want. If not, we can do it later or some other location. You’ll probably want your grandparents there, and Logan—”
It seemed like nervous chatter, which was so unlike Devon that I smiled and cut him off.
“We’ll have a party back home to celebrate. But if you’re saying you want to marry me today, on a beautiful beach in Key West, I am not going to turn that down.”
He let out a small sigh, his smile a bit relieved as he relaxed, and my heart melted. I found his nervousness sweet, especially for as confident and self-assured a man as he was. To think he was unsure of what my response would be to marrying him so quickly was endearing.
“Mr. Clay, your room is ready.”
We followed the bellhop with our luggage to the tiny elevator, then down the hallway of the second floor to a room. I was delighted all over again to see we had a room with our own private lanai overlooking the same view I’d had in the lobby. Two chaise lounges were set up along with an umbrella for shade, so that’s where I plopped down as Devon tipped the man and sent him away.
“I didn’t bring a swim suit,” I said as Devon sat down on the matching chair.
“There’s a shop down below,” he said. “You can buy what you need there.”
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “How did you manage to pull all this together so quickly?”
“A couple of phone calls and money is all it takes to get most things done, darling.”
I just shook my head. Devon was a force to be reckoned with. If he wanted something, there wasn’t a lot that could thwart him.
“I already have the dress,” I said. “It just needs to be cleaned. Do you think they could have it cleaned in time?”
“No need for that,” he said. “I picked up another dress for you. I believe they hung it in the closet.”
My ears perked up at that. “Another dress? How?” But even as I said it, I knew Devon could have easily bought another gown while I was busy trying things on at the shop. Flashing him a grin, I jumped up and dashed back inside. Devon followed me, chuckling.
It was another Oscar de la Renta. A column gown of tiered champagne-colored lace panels over soft silk, cap sleeves, and a sweetheart neckline. The detailing was exquisite, the color perfect since white had a tendency to wash me out.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, literally in awe. Once on, the dress would hit right at my ankles. Perfect for a barefoot beach wedding.
“Not nearly as beautiful as you, darling,” he said, brushing my cheek with his lips.
“We won’t have any guests,” I said, carefully hanging the dress again. “That might be odd. We should tell them not to bother setting up chairs.”
“Oh we’ll have guests,” he said.
I looked at him, eyebrow raised. “Please tell me you’re not paying people to come to our wedding.” That would be more than a little mortifying.
He laughed outright at the look on my face. “Of course not. I merely suggested that we’d have a lovely dinner and champagne for any of their sui
table hotel guests who might enjoy a romantic beach wedding and celebration with us.”
“So you are bribing them,” I accused, but I couldn’t help grinning. It really was quite absurd. We’d know not a single soul at our own wedding. And yet, it seemed to fit what had been an unconventional romance with Devon from the start.
“Harsh words, darling,” he said dryly, making me laugh again.
“I want to go lay on the beach,” I said, changing the subject. “Maybe I can get a little sun beforehand. Do we have time?”
“We have as much time as you’d like,” he said. “A sunset wedding won’t be for hours yet. Plenty of time to lie about in the sun.”
It took me no time at all to run downstairs and find swimsuits for us both, then back up to change. Sooner than I’d hoped, we were having the beach boy set up a couple of chairs in the sunshine, mere yards from the ocean’s edge.
We lay in companionable silence, sipping cocktails and listening to the seagulls and the sound of the ocean. It was calm here, and Devon explained it was because of the Keys and how big waves didn’t really crash against the shore the way they did elsewhere, like when we were in Maui.
It was beautiful and perfect, and I had to keep pinching myself because I was in paradise, with my fiancé, and today was my wedding day. It was almost too fantastic to believe. I felt as though I were holding my breath, waiting for something awful to happen and ruin everything. Because it couldn’t possibly be this easy, could it? Marrying Devon? Being happy hadn’t ever really been in the cards for me and yet, here it was, enveloping me with warm arms.
Devon left first, saying he had to see about the tux fitting he’d set up for himself.
“You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding,” I said. “It’s bad luck.”
“All right,” he said, indulging me. “Then I will meet you, right over there,” he pointed to the now-finished archway, the flowers covering the iron framework and filling the air with their heady scent. “At sunset.”
“It’s a date.”
He kissed me, a long, deep, slow kiss that made butterflies dance in my stomach. His skin was warm and he smelled of the sun.
When he pulled back, he brushed my lips with his, murmuring softly, “That, my love, is your last kiss as a single woman.”
And the butterflies took flight.
“You are such a romantic,” I teased him. “Who would’ve known?”
“I trust you won’t tell,” he said, kissing the tip of my nose.
“Your secret’s safe with me.” I watched as he rose and walked back to the hotel. His body looked mouth-watering and I wasn’t the only woman who kept her gaze on him until he disappeared inside.
It was a little sad to think that my grandparents and friends wouldn’t be here to see me marry Devon, but too much had happened to jeopardize our lives for me to consider waiting. It was carpe diem, seize the moment, because it might not come again.
Now I stood staring in the mirror, trying not to cry and ruin my makeup. The dress was perfect, amazing, and I couldn’t believe I was wearing a designer gown for my wedding. My wedding. I was so excited and terrified at the same time. Would he show? Of course he would. But what if he didn’t? Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll show.
And so it went, arguing with myself. Nerves defied logic, and as I made my way downstairs, the thought occurred to me, Maybe he’s also wondering if I’ll show up? And the idea of Devon being nervous, too, helped steady me.
The manager of the hotel was waiting in the lobby and his face lit up when he saw me emerge from the elevator. He hurried over.
“Good evening,” he said with a slight bow. “May I say how beautiful you look? Congratulations on your wedding day.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling at the compliment. “I think I need to head outside.”
“May I be of service as your escort?” he asked, offering me his arm, which I took.
“Yes, thank you.”
The sun was just edging to the horizon when we stepped outside. He’d taken me to the side of the building and we walked through a path edged with tropical plants that concealed me from view. As the end of the path neared, he paused.
“If you’ll wait here, I’ll get the coordinator and start the music,” he said.
I nodded, too nervous to say anything. Sure enough, a few moments later, a woman came up to me and I heard the sound of a ukulele playing. It was a very “island” sound and it made me smile.
“You look wonderful!” the woman said, introducing herself as Bernice as she handed me a bouquet of pink orchids. She explained that I’d walk further down the path until I reached the sand, where I’d see Devon and the archway.
“Just follow the sand to your fiancé,” she said. “Say ‘I do,’ repeat the vows, and you’ll be married by the time the sun sets.”
I heard someone singing now, along with the ukulele. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”
“Who picked the music?” I asked.
“Your groom,” she replied, a twinkle in her eye. “Do you like it?”
A nod to my home, to Kansas, and Devon had thought to do it. Too choked up to answer, I just nodded.
“Oh no, no tears yet!” she said, whipping out a tissue and dabbing the corners of my eyes. “You don’t want to smear your makeup, dear.”
That prompted a bit of a laugh from me. Wedding coordinator orders must be followed so I sniffed and blinked a few times. She was right. I didn’t want Devon to see me all crying with a red nose and blotchy cheeks.
Bernice smiled and stepped aside. “Good luck, dear. Enjoy.”
I took a deep breath, the scent of the orchids filling my nostrils, and started down the walkway. The man was singing the chorus now, the lyrics hopeful and sad at the same time. It was beautiful.
I took my time getting there. A girl only got married once . . . hopefully.
When I reached the end of the path, the foliage opened up and I could see the archway, covered in blooms. People I didn’t know sat in every chair, all turning to watch me. But all I saw was Devon, breathtaking in an ink-black tuxedo. His eyes were so blue, I could see their piercing color even from where he stood, waiting for me.
I was captivated by him, as I’d been since the first time I saw him walk into the bank and lay eyes on me. I’d been afraid of him then, so much about him had screamed danger and warning to me. Now I knew that, though he was a dangerous man, he was also a good man, and he’d never hurt me. He’d protected me, many times, and had been willing to die to save me.
Everyone stood as my foot stepped into the sand, distracting me for a moment. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks and glanced down, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Devon for long, my gaze inexorably drawn back to his.
The way he was looking at me made me want to memorize it, to capture it forever in a mental photograph so I could relive it. As though he simultaneously wanted to strip the dress off me and worship the ground I walked on. I’d never seen him awestruck, but that’s exactly how he looked. It made me smile, happiness bubbling up inside me. I’d never felt like this before, anticipation and so much joy, it was an amazing feeling that I never wanted to end.
I barely realized where I was as I reached the end of the aisle, my focus had been so much on Devon. But now I was finally there, in front of him.
“You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he said softly, just for my ears. He took my hand in his. The man was still singing, the lyrics drifting over us as the guests resumed their seats.
“You’re gorgeous, too,” I said. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”
“I’m all yours, darling.”
His smile was the sweetest I’d ever seen as we stood there and the music drifted into silence.
The man officiating spoke for a brief time, but his speech was short and to the point, and before long, I was reciting vows in a voice that shook slightly with emotion. Devon’s was strong and sure.
“I now pronounce you man and wife. You
may kiss your bride.”
I turned to Devon, the weight of the wedding band he’d placed on my finger new to me. He stepped closer and used both hands to cup my face before he kissed me.
I lost myself in the feel of him—his lips against mine, the press of his palms holding my jaw, the feel of his body so close. Then the kiss was over and he rested his forehead against mine.
“You’re a dream come true, sweet Ivy.”
I choked up and couldn’t reply, could only look up at him and hope he saw in my eyes everything I was feeling. I was overwhelmed with emotion.
Then everyone was applauding and it broke the moment. Devon put his arm around me and turned us to face the small crowd. Everyone had smiles on their faces, and I heard the popping of champagne corks as the white-jacketed waiters began filling flutes and passing then around.
“To us, my darling,” Devon said, clinking his glass against mine.
The bubbles tickled my nose as I drank, the liquid cool against my tongue.
Devon took my hand and led me to where a photographer stood waiting. I hadn’t even noticed him taking pictures, but I guessed that was part of the package. We posed for so many pictures, it was dark and they’d lit tiki torches by the time dinner was served.
Many of the guests came by to congratulate us . . . and introduce themselves. I’d thought it might be awkward, but everyone was so nice and didn’t seem to be surprised that we wouldn’t have a lot of guests at what they kept calling a “destination wedding.”
Devon had ordered surf and turf for dinner, and I didn’t want to think of the cost as the champagne flowed. I ate, but was paying too much attention to Devon to really care much about the food. He seemed to feel the same. His arm was slung over the back of my chair, resting on my shoulders, as he kept whispering in my ear and pressing light kisses to my neck. His fingers lightly brushed the back of my neck.