The music began, the traditional “Wedding March” played by a string quartet bringing tears to Emma’s eyes. Her foster parents had declined the invitation to attend, claiming illness—aka too much alcohol—so Emma began her trek down the aisle on her own, the way she’d always done things.
She didn’t mind, though, because waiting for her at the end of the white aisle, dressed in a stunning black tuxedo, his blond hair spiky, his blue eyes twinkling, was the man she’d always dreamed about marrying, Dylan McKay. As she held her bouquet of delicate snowflake-white lilies and baby red roses, beautiful emotions carried her toward him, each step a commitment to making their marriage work, to having the family she never thought she’d ever have.
The small group of guests stood as she flowed past them toward Dylan, her eyes straight ahead. When she reached him, he took her arm and led her to the minister and the flowered, latticed canopy that would be their altar. There, they spoke their vows of commitment and devotion.
For only a minute she was saddened that no words of actual love were spoken. Wasn’t it odd, a union taking place where neither of the participants spoke of undying love and devotion?
But once they were declared man and wife, Dylan cupped her face and kissed her with enough passion to wipe out any feelings of sadness. From this day forward...she would look only to the future. She’d promised. And so had he.
“Family and friends,” the minister said, “I give you Mr. and Mrs. Dylan McKay.”
As they turned to face their guests, applause broke out.
“Hello, Mrs. McKay,” Dylan said, kissing her again.
“Dylan, I hardly believe this is real.”
“It’s real.” It was the last thing he said to her before they were separated and the guests bombarded each of them with congratulations.
Brooke ran over to Emma and hugged her so tight, her veil tilted to one side of her head. Brooke stomped her feet up and down several times, her joy overflowing. “I can’t believe you’re my sister now! I mean we always were like sisters, but now you’re truly family. This is the best. The very best. Oh, here, let me fix your veil. My duty as your maid of honor.”
She refastened the veil just as Royce walked up. “Congratulations, Emma.”
“Thank you, Royce. It’s great to finally meet you.”
“Same here. And on such a special day. I feel honored to be invited.”
“I’m glad you’re here. Brooke looks great, doesn’t she?”
Royce glanced at his date. Brooke was wearing a red halter gown, tastefully decorated with sequins along the bodice. She’d promised she wouldn’t wear black, and when they’d shopped and she’d tried this one on, both knew it was perfect for her. Her gorgeous long dark hair hung in tight curls down her back and complemented the dress. “Yes, she does.”
“Have you met Dylan yet?”
“No,” Royce said. “But I’m looking forward to it.”
“He’s scared,” Brooke said, grinning. “Meeting my famous big brother isn’t in his wheelhouse. Isn’t that right, honey?”
“Well...uh...I must admit, he’s such a big star, I’m a little intimidated.”
“Don’t be. Dylan’s a good guy,” Emma said. “He’s harmless.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“I keep telling him that, too,” Brooke said. “But you, Emma, are the beautiful one. You look like the happiest bride in the world, and that dress...well, you destroy in it.”
Emma laughed. “Thanks, I think.”
“You do look very pretty, Emma,” Royce said.
“And I agree.” Dylan came from out of nowhere to take her hand. “You look gorgeous today, Em. My beautiful bride.” He kissed her cheek and played with a curl hanging down from her upswept hair.
Brooke wasted no time introducing Dylan to her boyfriend. The two men talked for a few minutes and Brooke seemed immensely happy that they seemed to be getting along.
Just a few minutes later, Dylan’s mother walked into their circle and took Emma aside. “I’ve always thought of you as my second daughter, Emma, you know that. You’ve been part of our family since the first day Brooke brought you over to our house, but I can’t even begin to tell you how happy I am that you and Dylan are married.” Katherine McKay hugged her tight, just as she had when Emma was a kid. Growing up, Emma was made to feel welcome and accepted, not by her own foster parents, but by the McKay family. “I know you’re going to be a wonderful wife and mother to my first grandchild,” Katherine continued, her gracious smile widening. “I am very excited about the baby, in case you can’t tell. If you ever need help or advice, please promise you’ll ask.”
“I promise, Mrs. McKay.”
“I’d be honored if you called me Mom.”
Tears rushed into Emma eyes. The notion was so sweet and exactly what she needed to hear. “I will, from now on.”
“That’s good, honey.” Katherine kissed her cheek and winked. “Now, I have to congratulate my son. He’s made a wise choice.”
After pictures were taken and the cocktail hour was observed, dinner was served on the veranda. A stone fireplace crackled and popped, adding ambience to an already elegant day. The wedding had been small, but with attention to detail. Leave it to Brooke to make all the last-minute arrangements. She was a dynamo, and Dylan spared no expense. It was a dream wedding as far as Emma was concerned.
As a disc jockey started setting up, Adam Chase, Dylan’s best man, gave a toast. “To my neighbor and good friend Dylan,” he said, holding up a flute of champagne. “May you enjoy the very same kind of happiness that I have found in Mia and my daughter, Rose. I’ll admit it takes a very special young woman to get Dylan to the altar. He’s avoided it for too many years, so to Emma, for making an honest man out of Dylan.”
Laughter rippled through the crowd and cheers went up. Everyone but Emma sipped champagne. She opted for sparkling cider and enjoyed it down to the last drop. Dylan held her hand and nodded to Zane. To her surprise, the country crooner slid a chair over to the front of the veranda near the steps, took up his guitar and sat down. “If you all don’t mind, I’d like to dedicate this song to my friend Dylan and his new bride, Emma. It’s called ‘This Stubborn Heart of Mine.’ Dylan, feel free to dance this first dance with your wife. And no, this song wasn’t written with you in mind, my friend, but if the shoe fits.”
Another round of laughter hummed through the guests seated at their tables.
Dylan pulled Emma out onto the dance floor. “May I have this dance, sweetheart?”
And as Zane sang a sweet, soulful ballad, Dylan took her into his arms and twirled her around and around, his moves graceful and smooth. Emma was happier than she’d ever been, but still the notion of getting married to the most eligible bachelor on the planet at a beachfront mansion and having her own personal country superstar dedicate a song to her was surreal.
“You’re quiet,” Dylan said halfway through the dance.
“I’m...taking it all in. I’m not used to this much...”
“Attention?”
“Everything. It’s...kind of perfect.”
Dylan hugged her close as the song came to an end, whispering in her ear, “Kind of perfect? Just wait until tonight.”
Emma snapped her head up, gazing into his incredibly seductive, amazingly clear blue eyes.
Maybe this marriage-to-Dylan thing would work out after all.
* * *
The light of a dozen candles twinkled all around Dylan’s master bedroom, but nothing was brighter than the wedding ring he’d put on her finger today. The brilliance of the oval diamond surrounded by perfect smaller diamonds had stunned her into tears. The sweet scent of roses flavored the air, and her bouquet and flowers from the ceremony decorated the room as well, reminding her, as if she could forget, that Dylan was now her husband.
He’d succeeded in making her wedding day a fantasy come true. Now she faced him still wearing her wedding gown, feeling very much like Cinderella. Handsome in his tux, he gazed upon her, his mouth lifted in a smile. “Are you ready for the rest of our life?”
“Oh, yes.”
He took her hands in his. “You were a beautiful bride today, Emma, but now it’s time to take this dress off and make you my wife.”
Emma’s body sang from his words and the anticipation of what the night would bring. “I’m ready.”
She stood still as Dylan circled around her. He lifted the tiara from her head, the veil having long ago been removed. Cool air struck her back as he unfastened one tiny button after another. Her body warmed with each flick of his finger as he skimmed her skin. Once done, he spread the satiny material off her shoulders and kissed the back of her neck. A prickling feeling erupted there and followed the path of his hands as they moved the dress down her body. His gentle touch unleashed something wild in her, even as he took his time and took care with her dress. She stepped out of it and he gathered it up and set it over a chair. She stood before him in white lace panties, and as he approached her with fire in his eyes, he undid his bow tie, shed his white shirt and unbuckled his belt.