“Annie.” Simon caught her attention, and from the quiet laughter, she guessed he’d said her name more than once. “Ready to continue?”
“Yes. Stop smiling, Simon.”
“Sorry, it’s part of the package.” She shook her head. The man was incorrigible. She’d missed that. “Annie Sullivan, do you take Eric to be your husband, to love, cherish, and stand beside, until death do you part?”
“I do.”
“Place the ring on his finger.”
After fumbling, she slid it into place, holding on to his hand. Eric touched her cheek.
“I love it, blondie.”
“Eric.” Simon laid one hand on his shoulder. “Do you have a ring?”
“Yes.” Wide eyed, Annie stared at him. “I can surprise, too. I’m ready, Simon.”
“Eric Malone, do you take Annie to be your wife, to love, cherish, and stand beside, until death do you part?”
“I do.”
“Place the ring on her finger.”
Annie let out her breath, her hand shaking. And could only stare when he slid the beautiful sapphire and garnet flower on her finger.
“It is my pleasure to pronounce you husband and wife. Now is the part of the program, Eric.”
Annie was laughing when he kissed her, his lips gentle, his hands sliding up her back. Applause filled the air, and he deepened the kiss, smiling against her lips before he broke it off.
“Hi, Mrs. Malone,” he whispered. Tears lodged her throat—and threatened to burst free when he wrapped one arm around her, his fingers brushing her stomach. “Hi, baby Malone.”
She leaned into him, touched his cheek. “I love you.”
His smile left her breathless. “Right back at you, blondie.”
Simon cleared his throat, smiling when they stared up at him. “Time for the official introduction, if you’re ready.”
Letting her go, Eric took her hand, winked at her. “Ready when you are.”
“He’s never going to let us live this down.”
Simon rubbed one hand over his mouth, but not before Annie heard the laugh he was trying to smother. Composed, he stepped forward and spread his arms. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present Mr. and Mrs. Malone.”
For such a small crowd, the response was deafening. Eric grabbed her hand, leading her between the handful of chairs. They didn’t get far.
Michelle got to her first, wrapped her in a tight hug. “Outstanding,” she whispered. Leaning back, she let out a tearful laugh. “Just outstanding.”
Penn stepped between them. “What she’s trying to say is congratulations. You look stunning.” She hugged Annie, pretty stunning herself in a deep blue velvet gown, almost medieval, the color setting off the turquoise streaks in her hair.
A tentative hand touched Annie’s forearm. She turned, found Theresa standing next to her.
“Congratulations, Annie. I’m so glad I could be here—I wasn’t sure . . .”
Annie took the initiative and pulled the girl into her arms. “Thank you for being here. And you,” she caught Mindy Kay, and held on to them both for a long minute. Remembering all they’d been through in Huntsville. And here they were, celebrating her wedding. God, the world could be crazy. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Mindy Kay leaned back, red hair falling over her shoulders. “It’s about time you ball and chained that hunk of a man.” Eric let out a choked laugh. Mindy Kay smiled. “Hey, I may be married, but I’m not dead. I noticed.”
Annie hugged them again, grateful for the laughter, the friendship, forged from the terror and pain of their time together. Glancing past them, she saw Claire and Simon next to each other, grinning like fools.
“Get over here,” she said. “Both of you.” Grabbing Eric’s hand, she pulled. “You, too, handsome.”
They stood together, holding hands, arms draped across shoulders, a group of strangers who fought, survived, and became a unit. Even Theresa. Annie winked at her when she risked a glance. A smile eased the nerves dancing around her.
“All right.” Claire stepped back, blue eyes shining. “We have a reception to attend.”
That reception turned into a party, a reunion , a wild celebration of life.
Annie kept touching her stomach, wowed and humbled by the life growing inside her. She laughed with the others when Zach performed a one-legged dance with his crutches, grinned wickedly when Claire caught her bouquet, refusing to even glance at Marcus as she clutched it.
Simon moved to her as she watched her friends dance. “Thank you for letting me in, Annie.” He looked—not sad, but thoughtful, like he was fighting to make a decision. “I know you and Eric will make it for the long haul.”