It sounded perfect to me, and instead of talking I’d kissed Ford right then and there, my hand snaking down to run his length, which immediately hardened. We sealed the plan with him inside me.
After we lay satiated, I joked, “We’ll be one year older then.”
“Our birthdays are another surprise, but I already planned that one.”
I pretended to pout, but secretly knew I’d love any surprise.
As I walked down the short aisle at our wedding, close to one month after Ford whisked me off to Cabo from LA for our birthday surprise—sans a turkey dinner—I didn’t care how old I was. Rather than a traditional Thanksgiving, we’d spent the long weekend in a private bungalow with a butler and plunge pool. We’d planned to take a boat tour and go out to eat, but we never left the room. It was the most perfect seventy-two hours.
Today, on Christmas Eve, my skin still held a little bit of color from the Cabo sun as Ford’s friend, Kellan, gave me away on this winter’s night. With the snow reflecting and flickering off the white lights outlining the tent, I felt decades younger—a princess living the dream.
Kellan earned the giving-away spot when he called and offered his plane for a honeymoon, saying, “I’m the one responsible for you two finally getting it together.” We couldn’t argue with his involvement or the offer, so he found himself as my steadying source while I made my way to my rock, Ford.
We had forty-two people awaiting our nuptials, surrounding us with their love and witnessing our second half, as Ford kept saying. Much to Beatrice’s chagrin, Scotty’s kids were running around outside the tent, catching snowflakes on their tongues, while she was standing under an umbrella held by Steven—under the dry tent—making sure her burgundy velvet dress didn’t come within an inch of a snowflake.
Val was doing a valiant job capturing the candid moments on her iPhone. She didn’t bring a date, and I made a mental note to check on what was going on with her and that lawyer…but for right now I could see she was happy with her role. I knew the event was bound to turn into a bit of a formal affair, and Val had promised me she’d make sure small pieces remainedimperfectly special.After all, it was how I described Ford and myself. Ford quoted me on it as he detailed our history at our supercasual engagement dinner at a hard-shell crab place, complete with newspaper on the tables. Although it wasn’t crab season and we only served fish due to my allergy. It was more about atmosphere when it came to the crab joint. Ford insisted he wanted somewhere the exact opposite of what his mom would want, and I was pretty sure we accomplished that.
At the moment, Ford waited for me in a stunning black tux, his hair barely or imperfectly combed, and his shirt thrown open at the neck—no tie, just as I wanted.
When I finally stood before him in an ivory long-sleeved silk sheath dress, my body heated despite the storm brewing outside the tent. My dress was simple, with a plunging V-neck and slightly A-line waist. I’d straightened my hair but left the red Ford loved so much. It fell to my shoulders, and Ford swept it back behind my ear as he leaned in and kissed my cheek.
“Not time for that yet,” Scotty declared from the small group gathered around us, forgetting he was a senator for a moment.
Someone cheered, and I knew it had to be Nelle without looking. She’d shown up with her “new man,” looking sinful in a tight burgundy dress matching his dark brown shirt and black dress slacks. They made a handsome couple, and for Nelle, I hoped this was the one…
“I love you,” Ford whispered in my ear. “Always time for a kiss,” he added. “See, Scotty is getting into the informal side of this wedding, and Nelle is happy, which is always a good thing.”
I felt myself smile and start to laugh into Ford’s shoulder, not caring about my makeup on his jacket or the weather. I was starting my back nine with a renewed vengeance.
With Billy standing next to me in a stunning black sheath dress, she took my bundle of deep red roses, and Ford and I turned to face the judge. His mother had gotten one wish—a decorated DC judge from the highest court married us—and we planned to take one photo with him she could release after we left on our honeymoon.
The short ceremony was a blur, and before I knew it Ford was pulling me in for a long kiss, our friends and family showering us with rose petals. It was exactly as Ford described, and more perfect than I ever could have imagined.
I was ready to slowly take on holes ten through eighteen. No rush—we had the rest of our lives.
James
One year later…a Christmas miracle
“Ford, I can’t do this.”
He squeezed my hand but didn’t say a word.
By now, he knew better than to say a word when I was in a frantic state.
“What if she doesn’t like me?” I said, continuing to hold his hand as we walked down the corridor.
“Laura loves you,” he said.
I gave him a dirty look. “Not Laura.”
“She’ll love you.” He finally noted who I actually meant. “This world is going to be new for her too. It’s okay for a little uneasiness on everyone’s part. It doesn’t mean there is something wrong or she doesn’t like you. She’s part of us.”
I nodded, squeezing his hand a little harder. “How do you know what to say?”
“I don’t. I’m nervous too, Red. But this is our back half, so I know it’s going to be okay.”
“How?” I stopped in my tracks and Ford followed suit, halting right next to me.
