Wedding cake and champagne afterward, and Thanksgiving dinner with everyone the next evening, back at Asher and Nora’s.
* * *
Jacob and Pearl were on an adventure. She had never taken a vacation from work, and rarely had she ever closed the Rose. She had never flown. And had it not been for Maggie, would not have had the proper clothes to wear for any of it.
Gunner was midway between Dallas and Austin when Dylan went to pick them up, and Angie stayed home to be there for Gunner’s arrival.
There was more turmoil there than at Asher and Nora’s. There was no fussing. No florists. No hair stylists to see. Asher was kicked back watching football and Nora was finishing up a quick virus removal for a law office, and wondering what fresh hell the law clerk was getting for using a company computer to cruise dating sites. One click too many on the wrong site, and the virus unloaded into the entire system.
When she finally finished, their system had been cleared and was up and running.
Happy Turkey Day,she thought, and signed off, then went to look for Asher, and followed the noise.
“Who’s winning?” she said as she dropped onto the seat beside him.
“We are,” he said, and pulled her into his arms.
She laughed. “Have you followed up with your friend in high places? The one who’s coming to marry us tomorrow?”
“Yep. He’ll be here. Two p.m. sharp.”
“Good,” she said. “Go back to your game,” then did a U-turn on the sofa, put her feet in his lap, pulled a blanket over herself, and snuggled down into the sofa.
At that moment, Asher lost focus on everything about the game and was thinking how freaking awesome women were, to be able to make a nest anywhere, as long as they felt safe. He tucked the blanket around her feet and legs, then turned the sound down on the game and reclined the seat.
Life was perfect.
* * *
The weather blessed the day of their wedding, and the family that gathered blessed it more.
Nora’s wedding dress was floor length and new. A concoction of simple elegance in white, with long, flowy sleeves. Her bridal bouquet was made of yellow roses, tied together with ribbon the color of bluebonnets. The fragile necklace around her neck had been her mother’s. Gunner loaned her a penny for her shoe.
Something old. Something new. Something borrowed. Something blue. And a penny for her shoe.
She had it covered.
And Asher had surprised her yet again.
He owned a tux. Who knew?
And wore it like he’d been born to it. There was still much to learn about the man he had become.
* * *
What she didn’t know was that Asher was on the same learning curve as Nora. When she showed him the photo she’d taken of herself before the interior designers showed up, and was telling him how she’d set the stage as a woman of mystery, he was shocked at the image and couldn’t quit staring—looking for the girl he’d grown up with.
Then she laughed, telling him how she upped the worth of her property by saying nothing about who she was, or why she had three locks on her door and did not receive guests without a security guard bringing them to her door. After that revelation, he guessed there was way more of that woman now, than the girl she had been. And he liked it.
* * *
Now they were standing before Asher’s justice of the peace, Patrick Fairchild, repeating vows, making promises, and at Asher’s instructions days earlier, the word “obey” was not to be used. He was marrying a woman, not a dog, and wasn’t having any of it.
At the exchange of rings, the room grew silent. The only sound was Patrick’s voice, and the rustle of clothing as Dylan handed Nora’s ring to Asher, and Gunner gave Asher’s ring to Nora.
Ignoring the ritual Patrick was trying to follow, Asher took her hand and slid the ring up her finger. Then Nora did the same for him.
Single bands. Unadorned. Symbols of unending love.
