Dean held him up. “Whoa there, friend.”
“This is happening.”
“Not if you pass out.”
Russ grinned. He wasn’t dizzy because of nerves. He was dizzy with happiness.So that’s what this feels like.Within the hour, he would become one half of a whole. His better half would wear his ring. “Relax.” He hugged a surprised Dean. “This is the happiest day of my life.”
Dean shook his head. “It’d better be, because I’m not doing this for you ever again—you’re a pain in the—”
“Russ!” Lillian waved him to his place at the bottom of the stairs. Her normal scowl had smoothed into a slight smile.
He hurried over, shaking congratulatory hands and accepting hugs with pecks on the cheek from the few people in attendance. Graham gave him a hearty man hug and laughed. His wife, holding their new addition, shook her head. “Let the man go; he’s getting married.”
Russ grinned. “Yes, I am.” With a little hop at the end, he arrived at his designated spot.
Lillian smiled. “Congratulations.” The head librarian was thrilled to assist Alice in planning the wedding within these hallowed halls. “I’ll tell Alice we’re ready. Birdie will play the wedding march as the signal.”
Russ nodded. The photographer stepped in his face and snapped a picture. The flash blinded him, and he blinked rapidly. When his vision cleared, he posed with his arm across Dean’s shoulders, then standing stately with the pastor, then between his parents in front of the staircase. It really was a beautiful backdrop. They couldn’t have candles in the library for obvious reasons, so they’d used fairy lights. He could almost picture the characters of Alice’s beloved books climbing out of the pages to attend her wedding.
Behind the first set of shelves was a standing piano. They’d placed it there to mute the sound. Indeed, when Birdie struck the first chord, the music floated up and up into the vaulted ceiling and redistributed throughout the room, adding to the delicate fantasy world where imagination, the written word, and hearts came together.
Stacy, Alice’s maid of honor, appeared at the top of the steps. She’d had bright pink hair for a while but had bleached it white for the wedding. Her blue gown hung on her frame as she descended the staircase and took her place. Russ smiled his thanks to her.
Birdie played the dum-dum-de-dum, and Russ lifted his gaze to take in his bride. He, along with the rest of the room, gasped.
If ever there was a woman who could be described as a heroine, it was his Alice. She wore a Regency-inspired gown in white that trailed behind her as she slowly descended the stairs. Her honey hair was looped and curled and delicately secured with small wisps framing her face. A veil of lace hung down her back and blended with the train of her dress.
Never in all his life had Russ seen anything so breathtaking as his bride in her gown.
Wondering if—no,knowinghe hadn’t done anything so great in his life to deserve Alice’s love, he nevertheless reached for her hand to help her down the last few steps. The moment their skin touched, he could breathe again. And he breathed in the scent of fresh lemons that brushed his senses like a promissory kiss.
Stacy quickly arranged the dress so that it lay perfectly around Alice’s feet. Russ set his eyes on Alice’s and waited for her to lift those beautiful lashes to meet his gaze.
* * *
Alice did her best to help Stacy arrange the long train, but there were some things best left to the maid of honor, and she soon abandoned her attempts.
Her hands shook from nerves. Russ had been late—like he-might-not-show-up late. She had no idea what was taking him. He had taken a few days off writing, something that was difficult since writing was a part of his soul. Maybe he’d gotten caught up in his manuscript, unable to resist the siren’s song for long. She prayed that was the reason and not that he was having second thoughts or cold feet.
Like every heroine in every romance novel she’d consumed over the years, from Jane Eyre to Elizabeth Bennett, she had her dark-night-of-the-soul moments waiting for him to show.
Not that he’d given her any indication that hewouldn’tmarry her. Russ was the epitome of the perfect best friend turned boyfriend and then fiancé. He was there at every awkward brunch with her mother and sometimes her father. He took her for chocolate cake when she was in a bad mood over a test or assignment. And he was a really great kisser. He was kind. And her favorite moments were spent in his sunroom. She would take to the couch with a book or her Kindle, and he would sit on the floor, his laptop on the coffee table, and write. They could spend hours together without having to say a word and when they finally came up for air, they’d have each other. Life with Russ was peaceful and calm and wonderful in all the best ways.
The idea that he would skip out on their wedding was preposterous. Still, she’d wondered, and the answer to why she wondered was sitting on the front row. Her parents. All her life, her father had looked outside his marriage for happiness, and her mother had chased after him like a puppy. No wonder she had trust issues! The first model of a marriage she had was so messed up, not even daytime television would pick up the plot.
Stacy finished arranging the long satin-and-lace train and stepped back into her place as maid of honor. Alice’s eyes pooled with tears of gratitude for her sister. She’d been the one to find this dress online, said the cut and style were so Alice that she couldn’t stand to close the page until she’d finished her shift at the salon, drove home, and shown the bride. The heavy fabric was perfect for the end-of-winter, not-quite-spring wedding. While long gloves would have been appropriate, Alice had forgone the fashion accessory in favor of feeling Russ’s warm, steady hands in hers during the ceremony.
She’d avoided those pools of color easily enough on her way down the stairs. A woman couldn’t be expected to traverse carpeted stairs in a wedding dress without watching where she was going. Unless that woman was a trained model, and Alice was not. She almost giggled at the thought. The assistant librarian over the YA section, a runway model? No. But a bride? Most certainly. She turned, half fearful that when she met Russ’s gaze, she would find disappointment there.
Her gaze traveled up from his shiny black shoes to the charcoal pants, the matching suit coat, and the pale pink bow tie to brush over his neatly trimmed beard and finally connect with his stunning deep brown eyes. All her worries flurried away with the stormy breeze that swirled snow just outside the windows. Russ looked at her like she was the most beautiful creature on the planet. His open awe made her flush from her satin slippers to the roots of her hair. With a steady hand, he took her fingers in his, and her tummy flipped with joy.
He worked his mouth as if it had suddenly become dry. A sense of being cherished swept over her. She handed her bouquet of roses and baby’s breath to Stacy, and soon she and Russ were joined by clasping both hands together.
Pastor Draper welcomed everyone to the ceremony. He cleared his throat, his gaze roaming the stacks of books and decorations. “I don’t think there has been a wedding in this building for seventy-five years or more.” He stopped his gaze on the couple. “But I feel blessed to be a part of this. It’s—” Deep breath. “—awfully romantic.”
Alice giggled.That’s what we were going for.
The pastor said many more things about the sanctity of marriage, about editing your mistakes as you go, and not saying hurtful things because they cannot be rewritten. Through the butterflies and excitement and the heady feeling, remembering anything would be a miracle.Thank goodness for Presley in the back with a video camera.
