About to be my wife.
“Are you both ready?” The vicar’s voice was low and calm, tempered with humour. She was new to the village, according to Marie, and had quickly brought round some of the older population who weren’t keen to see a woman in post. Now they baked her dinner and joined her coffee mornings.
I looked up, turned my head to the side where Victoria was standing, smiling.
I’d technically already seen her dress, but I’d deliberately paid no attention to anything apart from that it displayed her tits perfectly.
Now I saw her. The dress was lacy at the top, and I figured I could just about expose her tits by bringing it off her shoulders. The skirt bit was all layers and golds and big. I could easily hide under it at some point and see what colour her garter actually was.
She looked like my every dream and fantasy, wrapped up in a package of intelligence and sass that never let me forget it was a privilege that she’d chosen me.
“You look fucking beautiful.” I didn’t care that we were in church.
She smiled, red lips curving. “You look fuckable.” She mouthed the words, but given that Killian started to try to curb a laugh I figured he’d lip read.
I didn’t care.
She was here and we were finally getting married.
“We could’ve thrown rice, but I figured that would’ve hurt. And I didn’t want to hurt Vic.” Seph opened his arms wide because handshakes aren’t happening today.
“Thank you for being so considerate. I take it that it would’ve been fine to hurt me?”
“Absolutely. And congrats. I’m so happy for you.”
I sensed he might be getting more emotional than usual, so I called him a few choice words and threatened to kick his arse at poker – Vic had given her blessing for us to have a short tournament after everyone had eaten and we’d cut the cake and all that jazz.
“I’m so proud of you.” Marie parted the cluster of guests who were brave enough to still be outside and hadn’t gone into the pub. “You both look gorgeous and your vows were beautiful. Even your dad filled up.”
I smiled; I was doing a lot of that today. “You look lovely, Mum.”
She held me almost at arm’s length. “Thank you.” It was for more than the compliment. “I’m sure everyone is very proud of you. You’ve done amazing. With everything.”
Seph’s voice boomed through the crowd, encouraging them to go to the pub, with the information he was buying the first round. It was actually a free bar, but I was more than happy to charge Seph for everyone’s first drink, especially if Ava was ordering a bottle of champagne.
“You’ve also done amazing with not murdering him. Joseph!” She boomed back at him.
My bride had managed to untangle herself from the gaggle of women who were crooning over her dress. Eliza was still attached to her skirts, Claire trying to coax her away, but my little niece clearly thought that Vic was a fairy tale princess.
I agreed with her. She was.
“You look so fucking gorgeous.” I’d already told her a thousand times while the photographer was doing what she could to get decent family pictures before everyone started drinking – or continued, in several cases.
Her hand went to my tie and took hold of it. “You’ve scrubbed up well. Let’s go get you some champagne and see if we can buy us fifteen minutes with no one around.”
Jacob came over with a faux fur wrap, draping it over Vic’s shoulders. It was still just above freezing, the adrenaline was the thing that had kept us warm, but I wanted to be indoors now. Settled.
“Your carriage awaits, Mr and Mrs Callaghan, or is the lady keeping her maiden name?” Jacob made some elaborate gesture with his arms towards the Lamborghini. “But then what’s in a name? A rose would smell as sweet… and I can’t remember the quote. Get yourself in the car before your wedding guests become icicles.”
I ushered Vic towards the car, opening the passenger door for her, helping tuck her skirts into the vehicle. I wanted more from those later.
Her hand landed on my thigh once I got in, pressing her fingers into the muscle. “This has been the best day. I’m so glad you tried to steal my classroom.”
I laughed. “It was my room; I just compromised.”
“Hmmm. Really?”
It took an hour to get all our guests settled. The pub was closed to everyone bar our party, giving us the full use of the function room that Ava had gone to town decorating and a large restaurant area. It meant we hadn’t had to suffer the pain of choosing what courses people had, because the landlord was happy to take orders, meaning people could be as fussy as they wanted.
