I caught fragments of whispers from the crowd: “Pretty...Stunning...Beautiful...” and looked straight ahead. I started counting my steps—one, two, three, four—but as soon as Jonathan’s eyes met mine, nothing else mattered; no one else was relevant.
He briefly took his eyes off mine and looked me up and down as I neared the middle of the aisle
I could’ve sworn I saw him mouth, “You’re so fucking beautiful...”
He stepped down from the gazebo, and it looked like he was going to come down the aisle for me, but Corey grabbed his shoulder and held him back.
Smiling, I locked my eyes on his again, and took my last few steps to the altar. As soon as I was within his grasp, he reached for my hands and helped me onto the platform.
For the next few seconds, everything around us disappeared and it felt like we were the only people in the world.
I wanted to whisper “I love you” and I could tell he wanted to say it too, but we simply stood still staring into each other’s eyes—letting the silence say it all.
“You may now be seated.” The pastor’s voice broke us out of the spell. He hesitated a couple minutes before speaking again. “Dearly beloved—”
Jonathan slipped an arm around my waist and pulled me close, kissing me senseless.
The pastor cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder. “Mr. Statham?” The audience was laughing. “We haven’t arrived at that part yet...”
He whispered, “I don’t care” against my mouth, and slowly pulled away, taking my hands in his again.
“Let’s try this again...” The pastor joked. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness...”
I wasn’t listening to a single word he was saying. I was too busy getting lost in Jonathan’s incredible blue eyes, trying my hardest to stand still and wait for the part when we would finally be allowed to kiss.
I felt Ashley giving me a slight nudge in my back and looked over my shoulder.
“The ring...” She handed it to me and I turned around.
The pastor instructed for us to exchange rings and then he asked Jonathan to repeat his every word.
“I, Jonathan Statham.” Jonathan held me captive with his gaze. “Take you, Claire Gracen, to have and to hold from this day forward...”
“For better or for worse,” the pastor said. “For richer or for poorer...”
“For better or for worse, for richer or for richer.”
The pastor rolled his eyes. “...To love and to cherish...” He wiped his brow. “Jonathan Carter Statham, do you take Claire Alicia Gracen to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do.”
When it was Jonathan’s turn to listen to me repeat the words, I felt tears slipping down my cheeks.
He leaned forward and wiped them away as they fell, watching me intently as I followed the pastor’s lead.
“Claire Alicia Gracen, do you take Jonathan Carter Statham to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
I looked directly at Jonathan, noticing that he was looking as if he was nervous that I would say anything other than the right words.
“I do.”
The pastor smiled and shut his book. “By the power vested in me—”
Jonathan cupped my face in his hands and kissed me like he’d never kissed me before—tenderly tracing my tongue with his as if we were alone.
“Mr. and Mrs. Statham.” The pastor didn’t even try to interrupt us this time.
There was roaring applause and deafening cheering, but he didn’t let my lips go. He pulled me even closer and whispered, “I love you, Claire Statham. I always will.” He took my breath away with another swoon-worthy kiss and then he finally let me go.
Before I could tell him that I loved him too, he scooped me into his arms and carried me down the aisle. The photographers captured his every step, telling us to look their way, but we couldn’t take our eyes off one another.
We approached the building and Miss Corwin stepped in front of us.
“Time for pictures! Mr. Statham, put Mrs. Statham down please.”
He blinked.
“Mr. Statham...” She crossed her arms. “You both agreed to take pictures directly after the ceremony. You’ll want these to look back on. Trust me.”
He sighed and gently placed me on the ground.
For the next half hour, we took several staged photos with the wedding party—me amidst the champagne colored dresses, and him amidst the black tuxedos.
We were also forced to take a series of shots together, and Miss Corwin had to practically tear Jonathan away from me when it was time to take my solo frames.
“Okay, lovebirds...” Miss Corwin walked us into the custom Sweetheart Suite. “Take a quick breather before dinner. Cocktail hour is already underway...How long do you think you’ll need to get ready for the reception?”
Jonathan looked me up and down. “Two hours.”
“What? You can’t let people wait for—”
“Two. Hours.”
“Yes sir...I’ll um...I’ll figure something out...” She left the room and he immediately locked the door.
He walked over to me and backed me against the wall.
“Jonathan—”
“Shhhhh...” He looked deep into my eyes and tilted my chin up to reach his lips. “The things I’ve been wanting to do to you, Mrs. Statham...” He kissed me so thoroughly that my knees went weak, that every nerve in my body instantly came to life.
“I want to go to the reception, Jonathan...” I said breathlessly.
“After.” He reached behind me and unzipped the back of my dress. “I’ve waited way too long for this...”
I stood still as he slowly peeled me out of my dress, leaving it in a fluffy white puddle on the floor.
He ran his hands along my satin corset, slowly untying every string—unclasping every hook. When it fell to the floor, he bent down at my waist and took the bow of my panties between his teeth, tugging at it until it unraveled and joined my dress on the floor.
He stood up and looked into my eyes, silently telling me to undress him.
Compliant, I slid his jacket off his shoulders and unbuttoned his pants, seeing that he was beyond ready to make love to me. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and pushed it off his shoulders.
As soon as it hit the floor, he picked me up and carried me over to the leather chaise, gently laying me on my back. He covered my body with his, and even though he’d been waiting for this moment forever, he hesitated. Then he gently brushed his lips against mine and gazed into my eyes.
“Mine, Claire...” he whispered. “Tell me you’re mine...”
“I’m yours...”
He threaded his hands in mine and held them over my head as he slowly slid his cock into me, pushing every thick inch further and further until he was completely buried inside.
We lay like that for several seconds, simply staring at one another as our bodies molded together for the first time in weeks. I couldn’t believe how good he felt inside of me, how I’d ever gone so long without having him.
I gasped as he started to thrust in and out of me, as he pressed warm kisses against my chest and made me squirm beneath him.
“Be still, Claire.”
“I can’t...” I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his back, scraping my nails across his skin as he sped up his thrusts.
“I’ve missed this so much...” His mouth connected with mine again and he rewarded each of my moans with a deeper kiss. “So much...”
He rocked into me over and over again, caressing my face with his hands—never breaking eye contact with me.
“I’m going to...I’m going to—” I shut my eyes and screamed out as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through my body. I shuddered and shook as he came inside of me and softly collapsed onto my chest.
He slipped his hands to my hips and rolled us over so I was laying on top of him.
As I struggled to catch my breath, he rubbed his palms against my bare back
and sighed. “Was the wedding everything you wanted it to be?”
“Yes...” I murmured.
“Are you sure? We can do it all over again until it’s perfect if you like.”
“It was perfect...”
“You were so beautiful coming down the aisle...It took a lot out of me not to pull you down into the grass in front of everyone.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” I sat up.
He raised his eyebrow and I didn’t even know why I doubted him. He would’ve.
“Can we go to the reception now?”
“No.” he skimmed his hands against my stomach.
“Why not?”
“Because we haven’t had sex in weeks and we have another hour that we’re going to take full advantage of.” He pulled me back down.
**
When we finally made it into the reception room—after Jonathan had his way with me three more times, there were tears in my eyes.
I’d always envisioned our reception in all white with subtle pops of color, but he’d changed it—for the better: The tables were draped in light ivory, with pastel yellow and pink centerpieces that perfectly complemented the sparkling lights that hung from the ceiling. Our name—“Mr. & Mrs. Statham” was etched in large black cursive in the center of the glass dance floor, and the beautiful sweets bar I’d been so adamant about having, was larger than I’d envisioned. It was a series of huge spiral stepped-displays, and it took up an entire wall.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the newly wedded Mr. and Mrs. Statham!” The DJ bellowed.
I looked over at Jonathan—who was standing on the other side of the grand steps, and slowly made my way down to the dance floor.
He didn’t let me make it down the last few steps alone. He walked over to my side and reached for my hand, insistent on leading me to the dance floor himself.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and held me close, telling me he loved me again and again.
The lights in the room began to dim and a soft spotlight shone over us. As I wrapped my arms around his neck, the orchestra began to play—striking chords to a song I didn’t recognize.
“You changed the song?” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“What is it?” I was trying to place where I’d heard this melody before.
He said nothing. He simply smiled and moved me to the music.
I lay my head against his chest and listened to the strings sing softer and softer.
“At last...” Jonathan sang into my ear in perfect pitch. “My love has come along...”
My heart started racing all over again once I realized what the song was—Etta James’ “At Last.”
“The night I looked at you...” His voice was beautiful.
“You told me you didn’t know how to sing...” I looked up at him in tears.
“I told you I didn’t sing.” He kissed me. “I never said that I couldn’t.” He pressed my head back against his chest and continued singing the entire song to me, kissing me deeply as soon as he sang the last note.
When the lights brightened again, I leaned in and asked if we could just leave for the honeymoon now, but he shook his head.
“You wanted a perfect wedding, Claire. We have to do all the ‘perfect wedding’ things.” He led me around the room and we greeted each and every guest.
We posed for pictures with our friends and family, laughed as we cut the three tiered cake together, and tried not to get carried away when it was time for him to remove my garter.
As the DJ began to play the upbeat music for dancing, Jonathan pulled me out onto the open balcony where a small table was waiting. He pulled out my chair, and the dinner we’d missed earlier was served to us in three short courses.
We ate in complete silence, simply looking up at one another and smiling each time our eyes met.
The second I finished my dessert, he helped me up and pulled me close. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Yes...”
He nodded and signaled to someone I couldn’t see. He led me back into the reception room, and the DJ announced that we were leaving.
“Do we really need to have the rice thrown on us as we leave?”
“That’s a ‘perfect wedding’ thing...”
“Okay.” He kissed me, and we waited for Miss Corwin to lead all of the guests outside.
“Mr. and Mrs. Statham?” She motioned to us. “Follow me please.”
We followed her down the hall and to the entry way of the venue, holding hands. When she gave the signal, we ran outside and down the long white carpet, dodging a heavy rain of rice and cheers.
Greg opened the door to the limo and Jonathan picked me up and placed me inside.
As soon as the door shut, his lips were on mine and his hands were all over me. I leaned forward and started tearing off his shirt, murmuring as he slid his hand behind the back of my dress.
I was tossing his shirt across the seat when I heard a series of loud popping noises outside.
I immediately stopped. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” He was still kissing me.
“That sound...It’s like gunfire.”
He let my lips go and smiled. “Fireworks.”
As if he could read my mind, he pulled me into his lap and placed his jacket over me. Then he rolled the window down and we watched as our names were spelled out in colorful sparks across the night sky: “Claire...” “Jonathan...” “Mr...” “Mrs...” “Statham...” “Together...” “Forever...” “Until...” “The Very...” “End...”
“Do I even want to know how much that costs?” I whispered, entranced.
“Probably not.” He smiled and ran his fingers through my now-tousled hair.
We watched the fireworks until they ended, until the only thing left in the sky was the stars, and by that time we’d made it to his plane.
He re-adjusted my dress and opened the door, but I grabbed his shoulder.
“Wait...Can you please tell me where we’re going? I need to make sure my staff has some of type of idea over the next two weeks...Just in case there’s an emergency and they need to contact me...I know you said we’re not supposed to do any work but—”
“First of all, we’re going to be gone for four weeks, not two.” He held my face in his hands and narrowed his eyes at me. “Second, your staff will not be allowed to contact you. At all. Neither of us is doing any work and if there is an emergency, you’ll find out about it when we get back. Third, we’re going to eight different countries and you’ll find out what they are when we get there. And fourth, since you’ve always wanted to go...We’ll take a yacht through the Panama Canal on the way back and—”
I cut him off with a kiss and cried.
“Come on...” He led me out of the car and up the plane’s steps.
I didn’t wince when the plane roared down the runway, and I didn’t shut my eyes when we ascended into the air. I kept my gaze locked on his and smiled until the pilot said the newest set of secure words, “All clear, Mrs. Statham.”
As the flight attendant served us a bottle of champagne, Jonathan took my hand in his. “So, Mrs. Statham...Was our first time as a married couple special to you?”
“Yes...All four...”
“Hmmm.”
“You know sex doesn’t happen as often after marriage, right? That after the first six months or so, the honeymoon phase ends and you’re so busy that you have to schedule sex sometimes...”
He smiled and unbuckled my seatbelt with his other hand. “Claire Statham...” He pulled me into his lap. “What makes you think you and I will ever have that problem?”
“It’s natural. That’s just how it works. Now that we’re married, we don’t have to—”
“I’m going to fuck you every day.”
“No, listen—”
“Every. Day.”
I smiled. “You are so charming when you talk like that...”
“I’m well aware.” He smiled and eased me out
of his lap before standing up. “My wife loves when I talk dirty to her, but she won’t admit it.”
“She sounds like she’s too classy for you.”
He rolled his eyes and led me into the private bedroom at the back of plane. Locking the door, he pressed his lips against mine. “For the record, Mrs. Statham, our ‘honeymoon phase’ will never end.”
“You don’t know that for—”
“Shhh.” He kissed me. “It was torture not being able to make love to you for weeks, Claire...You damn near broke me...You don’t even understand how badly I wanted you at your bachelorette party, how much it hurt to lie in bed next to you without being allowed to have you...But now that I know what it feels like to be with you again, I can fucking guarantee that I will never go a day without making love to you.”
“Is that another one of your agreements?”
“No.” He smiled and pulled me over to the bed, unzipping the back of my dress. “It’s a promise.”
Epilogue
Claire
One year later...
I stood in front of the bathroom mirror with a pair of scissors poised high above my head. I made sure to hold the strands taut, and then I counted.
One....Two...
“What are you doing, Claire?” Jonathan walked into the room with his eyebrow raised.
“I spotted two gray hairs today.”
“And?”
“And I want to get rid of them.”
He rolled his eyes and took the scissors out of my hand, placing them back into the drawer. He wrapped his arm around my waist and led me out into our living room.
“Every man in my family started graying at thirty five.” He smiled. “You should leave your hair alone so we can match.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better...”
“It’s true. My mom’s side of the family started graying at thirty. I’m sure it’ll happen to me soon.”
“I’m not sure if gray hair will look sexy on you, Jonathan.”
“Everything looks sexy on me.”
I laughed as he handed me a box of tree ornaments.
Since we’d spent last Christmas overseas, we were hosting the holidays at home this year per his request. He’d never had a “real Christmas” before so he insisted on having his mom and Hayley over so they could all share their first one together.
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