by Polly Carter
At that moment there was a commotion from the other room. They hurried through with the cake and plates to find Jessamy giving Zain a dressing down.
“I have no idea how you think I managed before you came along,” she was saying, hands firmly planted on the skulls on her skirts.
“I was only trying to help,” Zain replied in an exasperated tone, running his hand over his shaved head. “You’re right. I have no idea how you managed; I don’t even know how you’ve survived being as prickly as you are.”
“Okay,” Harley ordered them. “Put your swords away,” she said, shrugging at Arian. “Come and eat some cake. And no throwing it at each other.”
“Or pulling each other’s pigtails,” Arian whispered to Harley, making them both laugh.
“Fine,” Jessamy snapped, moving around the table so she was as far away from Zain as she could get.
“I think I might get Lyddia home,” Harriet said once everyone had had their fill of cake and Steve had given a last toast to the happy couple.
“But I want to stay here,” Lyddia said tiredly.
“But we haven’t got your things yet, and Toody is home all by himself. Mummy and Daddy have to sleep together now they’re married and there’s no room at our place for Daddy, so they’re going to sleep here tonight, and then tomorrow they’ll come and fetch you and all your things and Toody, and you can sleep here tomorrow night. Okay?”
“Okay,” Lyddia agreed to everyone’s relief. “And I have to kith Toby goodbye.”
“Yes, you do,” Harriet agreed. “And he can come and visit you here sometimes too. He’ll like that.”
Steve left at the same time, thanking them for inviting him to be part of their wedding, and telling Arian he’d see him at work.
“We’re going too,” Zain said.
“Both of you?” Harley asked.
“Yes, we’re going to see a band.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Jessamy said flatly.
“You are,” Zain said firmly in a voice that dared her to argue. “You said you were, and I’ve bought the tickets now. And I’ve ordered a car, so get your things and get your butt out of here.” He turned to Arian and Harley. “It’s a late-night gig at a club in Northbridge. Wish me luck.”
Harley hugged Jessamy. “Thank you for everything, Jess. If it hadn’t been for you, I might have wound up in prison.”
“No probs,” Jessamy assured her, hugging her back. “It was quite the little adventure, wasn’t it?”
“Well, have a nice time, and be nice to Zain. He seems like a really nice guy, and I think he fancies you. Or he would if you didn’t keep biting his head off.”
“He looks like a guy who can take care of himself,” Jessamy said airily.
“I’m just waiting for him to take care of you–across his knee,” Harley said with a laugh.
“Just let him try,” Jessamy muttered, but Harley noticed the blush and wondered if that was just what Jessamy was hoping Zain would do.
“So, my beautiful bride,” Arian said when their last guests had left and they were alone for the first time as husband and wife. “Shall we clean up now, or leave it till morning.”
“Let’s do it now,” Harley suggested. “Isn’t there an open bottle somewhere? We can finish that off, play some music and get it done.”
“That would be my preference,” Arian agreed. “You make a start. I’ll get us both a drink and put some ‘cleaning up’ music on.”
By the time the open bottle was empty, and some more cake had been eaten before it had been put away along with the rest of the leftover food, the house was clean and tidy and all evidence of the party had disappeared.
“Time for bed, Mrs. Fletcher,” Arian said, holding out his hand and smiling suggestively at Harley.
“Coming, Mr. Fletcher.”
As the first pale light of dawn set the night to flight, Harley awoke. Before her eyes had opened, she sensed she was alone. Suddenly bereft, she sat up, but then she saw him standing, naked and silhouetted by the window. Her eyes ran greedily over his strong, broad back, his hard, round buttocks, and muscular thighs. Despite hours of lovemaking the previous night, she couldn’t imagine looking at this man and not desiring him. Her fingers went to her wedding ring as if to remind her that he was hers now, forever and for always.
Slipping out of bed, she padded across the carpet to him.
“I was getting lonely,” she murmured, snuggling up against him as he slid his arm around her waist, pulled her to him, and slid his hand further so he could cup her naked breast. Together, they gazed in profound contentment at their front garden with its rose bushes, a still canvas, painted with the powder blue and pale pink of the early morning sky heralding the first day of their married life.
“Happy?” he asked.
“Utterly blissed out,” Harley replied, squeezing her arm around him.
“You’re not sorry you married me, then?”
“No,” Harley replied honestly. “To be honest, I can’t believe my luck. I feel like I should be pinching myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. Ow!” she added as Arian playfully tweaked her nipple.
“Ah-ah! You’re not dreaming. Unless you dreamt I just pinched your nipple. Ow!” Arian jumped as Harley’s fingers bit into the fleshy part of his bottom cheek.
“Listen, Mrs. Fletcher,” he said with mock seriousness, “if there’s any assaulting of bottoms to be done in this marriage, it will be me doing it and your bottom being assaulted. Let me show you.” He swung her up over his shoulder, smacked her protruding bottom and carried her to bed. Tipping her unceremoniously off, he rolled her over and, pinning her down, spanked her quickly on both cheeks while she struggled and laughed and squealed.
“Ow, ow, ow. I’ll never pinch your bottom again,” she promised breathlessly.
“Okay, then,” he accepted her apology, rolled her over and rolled himself on top.
“Until next time,” she whispered provocatively against his mouth as he bent to kiss her.
“Aaaargh,” he growled, rolling over and pulling her on top of him. “You’ll keep. I’ve other things on my mind, right now.”
When their loving was done and Harley had had another nap, she woke to find him looking down at her.
“Hop up and make yourself decent,” he said, bending to kiss her before hopping out of bed and pulling on his boxers and jeans.
“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.
“Just outside,” he replied.
“Is this decent enough?” she asked, standing before him with tousled hair and rosy cheeks, damp and languorous from lovemaking, and clad only in his discarded shirt.
“As decent as I ever want to see you when we’re alone together,” he said, taking her in his arms and kissing her again. “But you better grab a jumper as well. And slip some shoes on. There’s a nip in the air. Now come with me.”
“Yes, sir,” she said meekly, pulling a jumper over her head and taking his hand. “Where are you taking me?” she asked, letting him lead her out of the bedroom.
“Hush, wifey,” he bade her sternly. “You’ll see.”
And so she followed him silently down the stairs, out the back door, and into the crisp late-autumn morning. They crossed the lawn wet with dew and walked out onto the jetty. As they stopped at the end, Arian let go of her hand and slipped his arm around her waist. Together they stood side-by-side, as motionless as the still river listening to the calls of the willie wagtails, the wattle birds and the magpies.
“It’s beautiful,” Harley breathed. “I can’t believe we’re actually here. I shall always think of this as our magical spot.”
“Me too,” Arian agreed simply. “That’s why I brought you here. On the first day of our married life. Five years is it, since I first proposed to you, well, said I was going to marry you anyway, even if it wasn’t quite a formal proposal. Seems like a lifetime ago now, eh? And I guess it is; it’s more than Lyddia’s lifetime.”
Harley no
dded. “It is. I remember. We were so sure of our plans then, weren’t we? Get married, buy this house, and raise a family here. What a different path we took to the one we imagined, but we got here in the end anyway, hey?”
“Wasn’t it, though. You don’t regret rushing into this marriage, do you?” he asked earnestly. “I mean now the police have dropped the charges and you’re safe and everything.”
“Husband,” Harley said firmly. “You keep asking me that, and I keep saying the same thing. I know you pressed for the marriage in case the worst happened, and I know you were doing it for your daughter… amongst other things,” she added hastily seeing Arian about to interrupt, “but your concern for Lyddia was just one more proof that I was doing the right thing by snapping you up. It might not have been the wedding we planned years ago, but, really, who cares? The marriage is more important than the wedding. And, besides, did you want to be the one to tell your daughter Daddy wasn’t going to marry Mummy after all?”
Arian laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Er, no, I did not want to have to do that! Anyway, my love, now the dust has cleared, Miss Not-yet-four-year-old is happy, and we can start to make proper plans again, I want to put things right.”
“What things aren’t right?” Harley asked screwing her face up in bemusement.
“I pressured you into marrying me… yes, because I believed it was the right thing for you and for Lyddia. And for me, of course. But once I’d steamrolled you into signing the NOIM, even though you say you were happy to go ahead, the reality is you really had very little choice in the end. And I want to put that right. I want to do it again and do it properly.”
“Do what?” Harley still had no idea what he was talking about, but he looked so serious it melted her heart and she reached out to gently touch his face.
“Propose,” he explained simply. Then taking her hands in his, he turned them gently over and raised each palm in turn to his lips. “Harley,” he began softly, lowering himself onto one knee, “you are my dearest love and the mother of my child. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and Lyddia and any brothers or sisters who may come along.” He hesitated for a brief moment, at a loss it seemed to express himself. “Can we really put the past behind us now and start again? What I’m trying to say is: will you marry me, Hal?”
“But, my darling,” Harley exclaimed with a laugh, overcome by her love for this wonderful man. “We’re already married.”
“I know,” he agreed, “but I feel like you were pressured into it, and maybe you think I was too and wouldn’t have wanted to if not for Lyddia and everything else. And it wasn’t the wedding you would have planned if you’d had more time. Will you marry me again? Properly this time? Maybe in a church, with a proper reception, and all your friends, and my family and everything? And will you do it because it’s what you really want and not because you think you have no choice?”
Harley pulled her husband up and slipped her arms around his neck. “Arian Fletcher,” she said, her voice as serious as his had been, heavy with the weight of her love for him. “I will marry you again and again and again, and as many times as you want me to. I will marry you in front of the whole world if that will show you how much I love you and how much I want to be your wife.”
Arian let out a happy sigh. “Oh, my darling,” he said, picking her up and swinging her around, making her squeal with fright in case they toppled into the river. “You can’t know how good it makes me feel to hear you say that. It’s all really over then. All the bad things, our estrangement, your brush with the law, are all really in the past forever now.” A sudden thought struck him. “Come on, my darling,” he said with a sudden urgency. “Let’s get cleaned up and go and have breakfast with Lyddia and her grandma. Then we can bring her and Toody and the rest of her stuff back here and start our life in our home as a real family. Maybe your mum and Toby would like to come and visit, too.”
Harley watched him excitedly making plans, speaking so fast she could barely understand him. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Everything was perfect.
“Come on,” she cried joyfully, stopping his mouth with her hand. “I’ll race you to the house.”
And, turning, they ran, side-by-side, laughing aloud, eager to begin their life of love together.
The End
Polly Carter
Polly Carter has been writing in one form or another most of her life. With more time on her hands after her children had left home, she was finally able to realise her long-held desire to write romance novels.
“I’ve always loved the idea of being a writer and taking my work with me wherever I go. I hate being stuck in an office, and being able to travel and work at the same time seems like the perfect life. And, of course, I love, love, and love writing about it.”
Polly has four children and four grandchildren. She lives in Western Australia where she has spent most of her life. Her other passions include dogs, travel, reading (quantum physics, I know!) and occasionally painting.
You can email her here: [email protected]
Find her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PollyCarterRomance
Or follow her on Twitter: @Polly_Carter1
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