by Matthew Rief
Once Scott and Wilson had left, my attention turned to Charles and Rashad. With the whirlwind of activity, shooting, and fighting over with, it finally hit home that he was gone. I remembered clearly the first time we’d met a year earlier. He’d been distrusting of me back then, eager to put me in my place and tell me to let the police handle everything. I’d been just as eager to shove his words out the window and to continue acting on my convictions. We’d found a comfortable balance as the months dragged on and had earned each other’s respect. His was a difficult loss to take.
Since all of his family were in Cambridge, his body was flown up there for the funeral and burial. Ange and I both went to show our support, and I wasn’t surprised by the number of people whom he’d clearly affected in his life. Though I hadn’t known Rashad, we’d done everything we could to let his family know that he’d died in the fight against evil. Like Charles, he’d received a proper ceremony and he’d been proclaimed a patriot in the local news outlets.
The day we arrived back from Cambridge, and less than a week after the oil rig incident, Charlotte Fletcher woke up. Once she was coherent, Dr. Patel explained to her what had happened, and had given her the terrible news that her mother had passed away.
We visited her before she left to go back home to Texas. She was raw and emotional, but she hugged Ange and me and expressed her gratitude for what we’d done. We were informed that she and her mom had traveled to the Gulf to sample the water near the newly arrived rig, just as we’d been able to ascertain from the footage they’d filmed. We wanted to tell her that, thanks to her and her mom, a major oil spill had been prevented in the Gulf. But we decided to keep that to ourselves since Zhao had yet to make any news public regarding an incident on their rig.
With the fighting and the aftermath of it all behind us, Ange and I were finally able to relax a little and focus on our future. The wedding planning process brought out a side of my bride-to-be that I’d never seen before. I’d always known that she was out of my league in the intelligence department, and just about every other department for that matter, and I’d witnessed firsthand her ability to plan and execute detailed plans on many occasions. But she took the wedding to another level.
Her excitement and enthusiasm for decisions like what types of flowers to have and what kind of cake were what surprised me the most. She genuinely enjoyed the process, which I loved because it allowed me to focus good chunks of my time on other, more ocean-related, endeavors.
Thankfully, she also came into contact with a wedding planner in Curaçao who helped her iron out all of the details. We also had many friends in the islands to help with whatever she needed. If I ever felt like she was trying to do too much, I’d take her to the beach right in our backyard and we’d cruise out to some of the best snorkeling and dive sites in the world.
THIRTY-ONE
When the middle of May rolled around, we flew across the Caribbean in Ange’s Cessna and splashed down on the southern end of Curaçao. The beautiful Dutch Caribbean island was a paradise of turquoise water, picturesque beaches, and unique colorful architecture.
The ceremony took place a few days later, right on a brilliant white sandy beach, less than a hundred feet up from the soft crashing waves. The sky was big and vibrantly blue. There was a soft breeze sweeping up off the water, carrying with it the fresh smells of the sea.
We’d only invited a small group of people, just twenty or so of our close friends. Scott and Jack stood to my left, along with Kyle, Pete, and Frank. We wore light gray suits and white dress shirts with the top few buttons undone. We were on a tropical island, after all.
Across from us stood a row of beautiful bridesmaids wearing light purple dresses. Jane Verona was one of them, along with Mia and a few of Ange’s childhood friends from her home country of Sweden.
In front of us was a long trail of white fabric that was covered in rose petals and flanked on either side by rows of white wooden chairs and bouquets of white and purple flowers. I looked out at our gathered friends, happy to see each of their smiling faces. Scott’s wife Cynthia and his daughters were there, along with Kyle’s wife and daughter. The Hale family, whom I’d helped last summer in Dry Tortugas, were there, as well as George and Rachel Shepherd, the couple I’d bought my Baia from and the ones who’d helped Kyle and me back in Cay Sal. There were a few others, including Gus Henderson and a few locals I’d met on the island over the years.
After a few minutes of waiting, Scott’s three-year-old daughter, Riley, walked happily down the aisle alongside the young son of the local pastor we’d chosen to marry us. Riley spread rose petals from a small basket while the young boy held the tiny pillow with the ring resting on top. Once their little legs finished the journey, the group in front of us rose to their feet, and Ange appeared from behind a row of green bushes.
My heart stopped for a few seconds as I laid eyes on her. She was the most beautiful woman in the world and was wearing a stunning white dress with a long veil. She held a bouquet of white roses in her hands, and from the moment she appeared, her blue eyes locked onto mine. She smiled giddily and I smiled back, unable to believe that I’d somehow managed to get the most amazing woman on Earth to be my wife.
She stood across from me as the pastor began to speak. I couldn’t tell you what he said for those first few minutes. My body and soul were entranced by the angel standing across from me. It was short and sweet, and soon it was time for us to officially seal the deal.
I slid the ring onto her finger, and she slid a gold band over mine. A swarm of emotions swept over me as we both said “I do” and gazed passionately into each other’s eyes. Hers were captivating, the sparkling colors of the tropical ocean around us. I lost myself in those eyes, grabbed her hands softly, and moved in close for an embrace. I smiled as I’d never smiled before, then pressed my lips tenderly against hers.
For one unbelievable moment, the rest of the world melted away. It was just me and her in all of existence. I was home with her. I was beyond words. And above all, I was happier than I’d ever been in my entire life.
My senses returned. I felt the warm breeze against my face, heard the cheers of our friends watching us. I inched my lips away from hers, and we both opened our eyes and smiled. With my hand in hers, we turned and headed down the aisle side by side. I high-fived a few friends as we passed by and petted Atticus as he stood at the end of a row, barking and wagging his tail. Halfway through the small group, I bent down, swept Ange off her feet, and carried her the rest of the way.
We held the reception just a short walk up the beach from the ceremony. We enjoyed a delicious lobster dinner, live music, and dancing right on the sand under a canopy of palm trees. The tables were covered with brilliant white cloths and the entire place was littered with flowers, decorations, and hanging lights. It was perfect. Ange and the local Dutch wedding planner she’d worked with had both done an incredible job.
The celebration was a blur of activity, but I did my best to meet with everyone who’d come and thank them personally. Most everyone there had had to fly in from someplace, so it meant a lot to me that they’d shown up.
As the bright sun dropped down to the west, painting the sky with vibrant streaks of red and orange, Ange and I moved hand in hand toward a nearby dock. The party moved with us, throwing flower petals in the air and cheering as we made our exit.
Pete and Jack motored the Cessna up to the end of the dock, and Jack hopped off first when we reached it.
“Your stuff’s all loaded up,” he said with a smile. He hugged and congratulated both of us again. “Don’t stay away too long. I need my fishing and dive buddy.”
Pete swung the pilot’s door open, climbed down, then stepped from the pontoon onto the dock. After patting me on the shoulder, he wrapped his arms around Ange and lifted her bare feet off the dock.
“You kids have fun,” he said, dropping her back down and handing her the keys. “We piled the wedding presents on the backseat beside your bags. Don
’t partake in mine until after you land,” he added with a sly wink.
We thanked them both, then moved toward the edge of the dock. I stepped over first and offered my hand to Ange. Once we were both aboard, we took a few breaths, then kissed passionately. Inserting the key, Ange roared the engine to life and cruised us away from the dock.
We’d been having friendly debates over the past few months as to where we’d go for our honeymoon. Ange wanted to go to Europe, while I wanted to go to French Polynesia. It wasn’t until the night before our wedding that we’d finally come to a compromise.
Ange and I rolled down our windows and waved to our guests, who’d gathered along the dock. Less than a minute later, we were up in the air, soaring through the beautiful sunset sky.
We flew across the Caribbean and landed in Jamaica for the first night. The next day, we took off for Miami, stowed the Cessna in a private hangar, then caught a commercial flight across the Atlantic.
We bounced around Europe, migrating as we pleased as we leisurely took in the sights. We started out in England, then caught the Eurail to Paris. We ate fish and chips beside the London Eye, rented an old wooden boat and cruised along the Seine in Paris, and ate dinner with a view of the brilliantly lit-up Eiffel Tower.
Our next stop was Rome, where we especially enjoyed exploring the Colosseum, the forum, the Trevi Fountain, and the Vatican. We spent hours staring in awe at the incredible artwork inside the Sistine Chapel, especially Michelangelo’s frescos.
From Leonardo da Vinci Airport just south of Rome, we flew across Italy and the Adriatic Sea to Athens. I’d always been a huge fan of Greek history, and the city was even better than I’d imagined. The food was delicious, the people friendly, and the architecture, especially the structures that make up the Parthenon, was unbelievable.
After spending a few months in Europe, we flew halfway around the world to Nadi, Fiji. Once we landed on the Polynesian island, we caught a ferry to the small coastal town of Savusavu, a place that I’d read was known as the hidden paradise of Fiji. The beautiful islands didn’t disappoint, and we spent weeks exploring waterfalls, diving the reefs, and spearfishing just off the pristine beaches.
For a few nights, I rented us an overwater bungalow that was located right at the end of a long winding dock. We spent hours going back and forth between lounging on the comfortable hammocks and diving into the crystal-clear water below us.
A few hours after dinner one evening, as the sun was setting, I rose up out of the water right in front of Ange, who was sitting with her legs dangling over the deck. Her toes were in the water, and I kissed my way up her legs before coming to her lips.
“Here,” she said, handing me a cold glass of a blended red drink.
I happily accepted it and she grabbed a second one from the deck beside her.
“To an incredible honeymoon, Mrs. Dodge,” I said. “And to the most beautiful wife in the world.”
She blushed as we clinked our drinks together, then we each took a sip of the delicious fruity concoction. I rose out of the water and wrapped an arm around her, and we both stared out over the ocean. Never in my life had I ever felt more alive. Never in my life had I ever felt more content.
THE END
Logan Dodge Adventures
Gold in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 1)
Hunted in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 2)
Revenge in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 3)
Betrayed in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 4)
Redemption in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 5)
Corruption in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 6)
Predator in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 7)
Legend in the Keys
(Florida Keys Adventure Series Book 8)
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About the Author
Matthew has a deep-rooted love for adventure and the ocean. He loves traveling, diving, rock climbing and writing adventure novels. Though he grew up in the Pacific Northwest, he currently lives in Virginia Beach with his wife, Jenny.