by Julie Morgan
“Ready for that glass of water?”
She grinned. “There’s lube in my nightstand.”
I chuckled and rolled off her. With my arm wrapped around her waist, I pressed my lips to her temple. “I love you, Ainsley Speire. More than words, more than anything.”
She smiled and turned her head to face me. Her makeup had worn under her eyes, and her mascara ran. It only added to her beauty. “I love you a whole googolplex.”
I blinked. “What is a googolplex?”
“It’s the largest any number could ever possibly be,” she explained. “It’s like writing the number one with endless zeros.”
“I had no idea, and now I love you a whole googolplex plus infinity.”
She snorted. “That’s so not a thing.”
“Well.” I chuckled. “It is now.”
I held Ainsley in my arms for a few more minutes before I got out of bed and helped her to her feet. We showered, had sex before we left the bathroom, and then had to clean up again. I brought her water as promised, and she was ready on the bed, waiting patiently for me.
If I hadn’t requested her to work the weekend of her best friend’s wedding, she never would have drunk my Scotch and the note would never have been written.
Thank God I made her work that night.
Epilogue
Ainsley
I stared at myself in the full-length mirror. My hair was pulled to the crown of my head in a braid of auburn hair. I had a few curls pulled down to frame my face. In front of my braid sat a tiara that held my veil.
My dress was sleeveless, strapless, and fitted to my waist. It flared in long satin and had a train behind it. My makeup was perfect, and I swore I would not cry.
“Come here, honey,” my mother called. “Let me put some rouge on you.”
“Mom, we call it lipstick in the twenty-first century.”
She smeared the lipstick on my lips. “Smack your lips and make sure it spreads. I don’t care what you kids call it. The color is beautiful on you. Take a look, darling.”
I turned back to the mirror and smiled. She was right. The color was perfect. A bouquet of fresh roses, both white and red, were handed to me. I took them and looked at my sister, Everly. She had tears in her eyes, and she hugged me tight.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. “I knew he was the one.”
I smiled and took a step back. “So, how do I look?”
“Like a knockout. He may break down and cry when he sees you,” she said. “In the best way possible, of course.”
“Baby girl, are you ready?” my dad called.
My stomach fluttered with butterflies.
Chase had asked me to marry him on our one-year anniversary. He had moved me in with him, and I finally had met his mother. Some days were better than others when it came to her dementia. She was loving and kind. One day during a moment of clarity, she had told him, “Don’t screw this one up, son. I like her!”
Coming back to the present, I looked at my father. “Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”
The music in the church began to play the wedding songs Chase and I had picked. My bridesmaid—and future sister-in-law and new best friend rolled into one—Madeline, made her way down the aisle, followed by my maid of honor, my sister. Once they were in place, the wedding march started, and everyone stood.
And down at the end of the walk stood my fiancé, Chase Newstrom.
CHASE
My eyes filled with tears, and I smiled so large it almost hurt. My heart beat loud enough I knew everyone in this place could hear it, even over the organ that played. But I didn’t care. I would run into the street and confess my love of this woman, Ainsley Speire.
She made her way down the aisle with her father. Our eyes never wavered from each other. She smiled, and her red lips were beautiful under the light veil.
The night I asked Ainsley to marry me, we were walking on the beach in Cozumel. I’d taken her on a vacation with me after another big case was won. We were hand-in-hand, barefoot in the sand. The sun was setting. It was perfect. I pulled her to a stop and kissed her. Then, I dropped to one knee, and she gasped and broke out in tears. She leaped into my arms screaming yes before I had the chance to ask her to marry me.
After we made love that night, I asked her while she lay in my arms. And she said yes.
“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, till death do you part?”
Ainsley simply smiled and said, “I do.”
The same question was repeated to me. I smiled and squeezed her hands. “I do.”
“May I have the rings?” the preacher asked.
We handed them over, and one by one, we slipped them onto each other’s fingers.
He said something else I didn’t quite catch because as I stared into Ainsley’s eyes, everything and everyone faded away.
“Son?” the preacher interrupted.
“Yes?” I answered.
“You may kiss your bride now.”
A few in the church chuckled. We both apparently missed what he’d said. I lifted the veil that covered Ainsley, and underneath was the most beautiful woman in the world, my wife.
I took her into my arms, slanted my lips over hers, and kissed her. At that moment, my heart was full, so full it might burst. But I would have died a happy man.
I pulled away and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Mrs. Newstrom.”
She giggled. “I love you too, Mr. Newstrom. And there’s red lipstick all over your mouth.”
I grinned, winked at her, and kissed her again.
Would Ainsley and I have ended up here today at our wedding? I would like to think so. Regardless, we were here now, and that was all I needed in this world of misadventures with Scotch, love notes, and my Ainsley.
Acknowledgments
Thank you to my readers who have stuck by me through this whirlwind adventure in writing! I wouldn’t be here without your support. And for that, I’ll be forever grateful.
Thank you to the Waterhouse team, especially to Meredith Wild and Scott Saunders. You two are amazing!
To my street team, you guys are fantastic! Thank you for everything you do! I love y’all!
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About Julie Morgan
USA TODAY and Award-winning Bestselling Author, Julie Morgan, holds a degree in Computer Science and loves science fiction shows and movies. Encouraged by her family, she began writing. Originally from Texas, Julie now resides in Central Florida with her husband and da
ughter where she is an advocate for Special Needs children and can be found playing games with her daughter when she isn’t lost in another world. For more information please visit her at www.juliemorganbooks.com