Beach Wedding (Eversea Book Three) (The Butler Cove Series 5)

Home > Historical > Beach Wedding (Eversea Book Three) (The Butler Cove Series 5) > Page 18
Beach Wedding (Eversea Book Three) (The Butler Cove Series 5) Page 18

by Natasha Boyd


  How had Jack known? How had he known that when I’d said I was ready all those months ago I hadn’t known what I was saying? But now I did. God. Now I did. The knowledge that he’d been feeling this way without me, waiting for me, for years, filled me with a tenderness I couldn’t explain.

  It was my turn to speak and I felt frozen in our moment.

  “Repeat after me,” Nick prodded gently. “I, Keri Ann Butler.”

  I inhaled and swallowed over the emotions lodged in my throat. “I—I, Keri Ann Butler ...” I began.

  There was silence as everyone waited. As Jack waited.

  I’d prepared for this. I had written words. I’d memorized words. And now nothing seemed to be enough.

  Jack had talked about stars, about lifetimes. My prepared words seemed small, limited.

  Lifetimes ...

  I took a breath. “Jack, I was born on this earth with my soul already searching. In every book I read that I clutched to my chest, every song I heard that made me pause, every sunset, every beautiful moment, every dream that held a whisper of something, someone, of a promise made lifetimes ago ... my soul was searching for you.” My voice wobbled, and Jack squeezed my hands. “From the moment I met you it was like coming home. So yes, I’ll take your heart into my care, if you’ll accept mine. And I too will love you with every breath in this body and with everything that I am. I take you, Jack Eversea to be my lawfully wedded husband. For as many lifetimes as we’re granted.”

  There was a beat of silence. Someone blew their nose. Another hiccupped a sob. Oh jeez, I’d made everyone cry.

  Nick cleared his throat. “Who has the rings?”

  Jeff stepped forward. “I do.”

  Nick took Jack’s ring and handed it to me. I followed his instructions and placed it on Jack’s finger, repeating words Nick fed me. Then Jack did the same with a simple platinum band designed to nestle in against the engagement ring he’d given me that I couldn’t wait to put back on.

  I closed my eyes and stepped closer to Jack.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife,” Nick said. “You can make out now.”

  Everyone exploded into laughter as if all their emotions had been pent up for the last half an hour. I knew the feeling.

  I cupped Jack’s cheeks, opening my eyes to his. We both breathed hard, our air stolen by the cool evening breeze that whipped around us. Jack smoothed my hair and held it against my head.

  “You’re mine,” he whispered. “For lifetimes.”

  And then he kissed me.

  A cheer rose up around us.

  I vaguely heard Nick pronounce us man and wife, but Jack’s kiss muted everything save the feel and taste of him. My Jack. My husband.

  “Don’t kiss all her make up off,” Jazz complained. “We have to do pictures now.”

  Jack smiled against my mouth, and we slowly pulled apart. He gazed down at me, his green eyes glowing with intensity, even as his pupils darkened. “Nice song choice, by the way” he murmured, leaning into my ear as we headed back down the aisle, together. “You looked like an angel coming toward me. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as you.”

  “Well, the song was meant to be about you.” I laughed softly.

  We were ushered off to take photographs. Someone stuck glasses of champagne in our hands. I put mine down and “accidentally” forgot where I left it.

  The light strings over our heads turned on.

  I grabbed Jazz as she passed. “I’ve never seen this place look more perfect and more magical than it does right now,” I said. “Thank you. This is just ... incredible.”

  “And it’s not over.” She winked and hugged me. “Between you and me, I always hoped it would be your wedding I was planning.”

  “And between you and me, I was wishing it was mine.”

  “And here we are.” Jazz laughed. “We’ve been good at getting what we’ve set our hearts on, haven’t we?”

  I looked over to Jack a few feet away as he laughed at something Cooper said. As if Jack could sense my eyes on him, his gaze flitted to mine. It was split seconds before we both continued on with our own conversations, but it was enough for us to know that even separated, we were still connected.

  “We have,” I admitted and raised my eyebrows. “So you and Joey are next.”

  “Ha!” she exclaimed. “Just let’s focus on yours today, okay? Anyway, it’s time to get this party started.”

  And we did.

  Jack and I danced our first dance to Into the Mystic by Van Morrison, and then I danced with my brother, my stepfather-in-law, Devon, Cooper, Colt, Paulie, Nick, Hector, and eventually Jack reclaimed me. “I’m missing you already,” he whispered in my ear as a slow tune came on. I hardly remembered the food, though Jack made sure I ate.

  “How long until you can bed me,” I asked him another half hour later. We’d planned to stay at the inn in my room tonight so we didn’t have to drive. Now with the party going on, and the fact that we’d basically be in the same house as my brother and Jack’s parents who were also staying there, it suddenly didn’t seem like the best idea. I wanted my husband all to myself. We’d nixed the idea of leaving immediately for a honeymoon since Jack’s parents were in town, and we wanted to spend time with them before they left in a few days.

  “How about we go sneak upstairs now while everyone is still out here having a great time?”

  I bit my lip and nodded.

  Jack took my hand and led me toward the house. My best friend was coming out the door.

  “Jazz,” I said. “We’ll be back.”

  “Actually,” she said. “If you’re ready to go, there’s a car waiting.”

  “A car? I don’t understand,” I started.

  Jack frowned.

  “Hey, don’t blame me,” Jazz said. “I planned the wedding, but this was a massive conspiracy by everyone else to get you both out of here.” She pulled us inside and motioned to the hallway where two suitcases stood packed.

  “But my parents—” argued Jack.

  “Were in on it, too. In fact, it was your mother’s idea to begin with. Then Devon organized the plane, and well ...”

  “The plane?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jazz said with a roll of her eyes. “A plane. It’s on standby at the private airfield at Hilton Head.”

  “You know, Jack,” I looked at my new husband with a smirk. “This is suspiciously like when you packed a bag for me and flew me away from here four years ago. How does it feel to be on the receiving end of this high handedness?”

  He turned fully to me and pulled me hard against his body.

  I gasped.

  “I’m pretty damn awed by the genius of it actually.” He dropped his mouth to mine and kissed me hard, before adding, “And pretty damned excited to get you alone and peel you out of this dress, wife.”

  I burst out laughing. “You are incorrigible.”

  “Sure am. But you knew that.”

  “I really don’t need to be involved in this convo,” said Jazz.

  “You’re right,” said Jack, not looking up from where he stared at my mouth again. “Let’s go say good-bye. And let’s be quick about it.”

  “Where are we going anyway?” I asked.

  “Anywhere that has a bed with you in it,” grumbled Jack.

  “Patience, husband, we have the rest of our lives.”

  He pulled me close as we headed outside back to the party and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Lifetimes,” he corrected me, invoking our vows. “And yes. Yes, we do.”

  <<<<>>>>

  JACK

  Twenty-Seven

  Seven Months Later

  My wife, Keri Ann, sits on the couch, her legs splayed and her hands resting on her swollen belly. She’s wearing a white spaghetti strap tank top, her bare shoulders sun-kissed from the long walk we just took on the beach. Her brown hair’s tied up in its usual messy bun thing, but tendrils have escaped and lie damp against her glistening neck. I want to lick her skin when she’s
like this.

  “I’m going to pop,” she grouches. “I can’t believe I have another month of this. I won’t be able to move. Tell me again why we didn’t try to avoid me heaving around another human in July, in the South?”

  It’s hot and humid outside, with a swelling purple sky in the distance. A heavy summer storm will be moving through soon. The weather radio in the kitchen has been beeping a small craft advisory all morning from the National Weather Service. I’m relieved we were able to enjoy the brief moment of sunshine this morning, even if it was sweltering.

  I chuckle and finish filling a glass of cold water for her. “As I recall, there wasn’t much planning for this at all.”

  “True.” She winks. “I still think it was the time I surprised you in your study.”

  My groin stirs at the memory. It had started with her on her knees in front of me and ended with her splayed across my desk.

  I clear my throat and conjure up another memory of slick flushed skin, and swirling steam. “I know it was the time I snuck into the shower with you.”

  Why am I doing this to myself? She’s too uncomfortable in her own skin right now to have to deal with me pawing at her. I adjust my jeans. It’ll be me and my hand in the shower soon if we keep talking like this.

  “Whatever.” She winks. “Dr. Berry said it could have been any time around then. And we’ll never know for sure.” She raises her eyebrows, knowing it annoys me beyond belief that I don’t know the exact time our lovemaking resulted in something so miraculous. Then she grimaces and rubs a hand back and forth over the roundness in front of her.

  “You okay?” I ask bringing her the water. “Is he kicking?”

  “She,” she corrects me.

  We still don’t know the sex of our baby.

  “I think there’s kicking. Actually, I don’t know.” She frowns. “I thought she was pressing against my side, but then it felt super tight all around my belly. Like it all tensed for a few moments. Maybe it’s one of those pre-labor things. The fake contractions. What are they called?”

  “You’re asking me?” I rub my hands over her distended stomach. It’s incredible to feel this tight, smooth body part. It’s like Keri Ann stuffed an over-sized beach ball under her shirt. I shake my head as she sips the ice cold water. “How is anyone supposed to know if it’s a fake contraction or a real one, since we’ve never done this before?” I ask in annoyance. “Like, they say, oh don’t call if you’re having mock labor pains. What does that even mean?”

  The fact she’s sitting in front of me, experiencing these things I can’t comprehend, makes me feel helpless. Helpless and awed.

  Already she’s carrying this wisdom of motherhood aura about her. As if the secrets to the universe lie with her alone. Things I’ll never understand. And she gets sexier with every passing moment—the flush of her cheeks and the roundness of her face now, softened as she carries our child, the swell of her breasts, larger than they’ve ever been. I find myself obsessed. Obsessed and stupidly turned on.

  “I know.” She laughs. “It’s ridiculous to think we’d know the difference.”

  I pull her into my side and kiss the top of her head.

  “So for our last evening on the island, I have an idea,” she says.

  We’re leaving Daufuskie tomorrow. I persuaded her we should spend the last month in Butler Cove so we’d be closer to the hospital and not have to organize a forty-minute boat ride if she goes into labor or if something goes wrong. Actually, I tried again to get her to agree to a helipad, like I had when we’d first built this place, but she was still having none of it.

  “What’s the idea?” I ask as she snuggles in closer.

  Our bags are already packed. We’ll be heading off our secluded island first thing in the morning. Devon and Monica are in China, so we’ll have their place to ourselves. We’d talked about getting our own apartment near the hospital. But in the end, we both felt being somewhere familiar was better, and Monica almost had a fit when we even floated the idea of staying elsewhere.

  “So, I was thinking.” She set her glass down on the side table. “Remember the night before our wedding on the beach?”

  “You mean our beach wedding?” I ask. We’d decided Nick’s handfasting ceremony had definitely been a wedding in its own right.

  “Yeah.” She breathes out on a laugh. “So everyone went around and bestowed blessings. I was thinking we could do that for Bean.”

  “There are only two of us. Two blessings?”

  “No, let’s go through our family members and friends and wish their best quality on Bean. It will be like in Sleeping Beauty when all the fairies in the kingdom come and bestow a virtue on the princess.”

  “But doesn’t the mean fairy come and cast the horrible curse on her. Hence sleeping beauty?”

  “But we’re in charge. So we get to make sure we don’t wish any bad on her.”

  “Him. Any bad on him.” I smirk and tuck a tendril of hair behind the shell of her ear.

  “Ugh. Whatever.” She rolls her eyes at me.

  The nursery we decorated was done in tones of cream and natural wood. That way we can imprint it with the personality of Bean whenever he or she arrives. It was Keri Ann’s idea, and it was perfect.

  “Me first,” I start. “I wish Bean all the creativity of his mother. Wait, can I bestow more than one gift from a particular person?”

  Keri Ann taps her lip. “Hmmm, why not? We shouldn’t cap virtues.” She looks at me. “And we can be shallow and deep in equal measure.”

  I nod, staring at her and thinking my next gift will be to bestow Keri Ann’s simple and elegant beauty.

  “Okay.” She grins. “My turn. I wish Bean to have her father’s stunning green eyes. But also his kindness and thoughtfulness.”

  “I wish for him to have your brother’s determination.”

  Keri Ann nods her head at that one.

  “I wish for her to have your mother’s patience and serenity.” She grimaces suddenly. “Ooof. That was tight,” she says and rubs her belly for several long moments.

  “Are you sure these are the fake things?” My gut is telling me otherwise. “Braxton Hicks,” I say suddenly remembering the name of them.

  “I don’t know.” She tries to smile, but I can tell she’s worrying.

  “Damn it, I knew we should have moved across to Butler Cove earlier.” I scowl, mentally castigating myself for not being more insistent.

  “It’s fine. I’m only eight months.” Then she hisses in a breath. “Ouch.”

  “Shit, baby. What’s going on, are you okay?”

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “Fuck.” I rake my hands through my hair and fumble in my pocket for my phone. I need answers.

  Glancing outside at the rapidly darkening sky, I feel sick.

  Keri Ann lays a hand on mine, the warmth searing through my skin. “Let me talk to Dr. Berry. You organize us an earlier boat over to Butler Cove or maybe directly to Hilton Head Island. Like a within-the-next-hour, before the actual storm hits, kind of trip. Okay?”

  We lock eyes, and in the depths of the blue I can see panic and infinite calm swirling together in an equal push-pull. I need to help her stay calm.

  I blow out a breath. “Okay. Solid plan. You call the doc.”

  She points to her cell phone on the counter. There’s no way she’s able to heave herself off the couch, so I hop up and grab it.

  Pressing a kiss to her head, I then proceed to call the first on the list I’ve made of boats to get us off the island. After the first call I leave the room so Keri Ann doesn’t hear me panic. Due to the small craft weather advisory no one wants to be on the water. No one.

  “I’ll triple the price,” I say to a lady on the other end of the phone as I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Just charge me whatever.”

  The woman’s gruff voice is apologetic. “It’s not about the money. It’s dangerous, and frankly as soon as the weather warning went out I poured myself a large Ja
ck and Coke and settled in. That’s what most of us do. Have you tried Wayne up at Haig Point?”

  “Yes,” I snap. “He’s had a few too.”

  “Well, shit,” she says. “He’s supposed to be in AA.”

  “Is that what happens here? You all fall off the wagon as soon as the weather picks up?” My panic is manifesting as annoyance.

  Luckily she chuckles. “I’m afraid so. Ain’t much to do on this island. We take our fun where we can.”

  “Look, Marge? It is Marge, right? My wife is eight months pregnant, and I think she’s going into labor early. This isn’t just because we want to go on a jaunt.”

  “Oh, honey. Shoot. I’m so sorry. All right, let me call around to a few people I know. I’m afraid I don’t hold out much hope though. What did you say your name was, hon?”

  “Jack,” I answer through a throat that is now twisted and thick with sheer panic. “I—Is there a doctor on the island?”

  “Well, we got us a midwife here somewhere. An old Gullah lady. And the fire guys, they’re trained EMT’s. But, well, that’s about it.”

  Oh.

  Shit.

  I thank her and hang up after making sure she’ll continue to call around.

  What in the hell was I thinking building a house out here on the island and keeping my pregnant wife here? And what about when we have the baby? What if the baby gets sick?

  My skin is clammy, and my heart pounds. Maybe these are just Braxton Hicks contractions that Keri Ann is experiencing, but whatever they are, this is our last day on the island for a long, long time. We need to be near civilization.

  If we can ever get off this island.

  Fuck.

  After two more calls that roll straight to voicemail, I swallow hard and head back to the living room to break the bad news to Keri Ann.

  She’s breathing through another contraction. Her face is set with tension, her eyes closed. She’s off the phone.

  “What did Dr. Berry say?”

  “That we should probably get to the hospital.”

  I scrub a hand down my face. “Of course she did.”

  “The good news is, it’s very early stages. I described the pain to her, and we timed them.”

 

‹ Prev