“Always.” No hesitation. No regret. The word filled with the promise of the rest of their lives. The news from her doctor, received that morning, guaranteed the future. Cancer-free. Follow-ups, but she was clear of the disease.
The ceremony was traditional. Clay’s eyes were warm and moist as he said the words, “For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do us part.”
She added her own promise to his.
When the minister pronounced them man and wife, Clay kissed her, deeply, thoroughly and with tongue before scooping her into his arms, still kissing her, much to the amusement of their audience. He didn’t put her down but carried her up the hill to the backyard of her dad’s house. The caterers had been busy.
Photographs. Hugs. Kisses. Well-wishes. Toasts. Cake. More toasts. And then she was in Clay’s arms as Deacon and the Sons of Nashville sang Clint Black’s “When I Said I Do” for their first dance. Clay held her close and moved with the music while she let the words wash over her. This wasn’t the song she’d picked, but it was perfect.
Clay twirled her out and reeled her in only to bend her into a dip. He kissed her arched throat and whispered, “Are you wearing it?”
She blushed but nodded, thinking about the bridal tradition. She wore her grandmother’s pearls for her something old. The blue satin ribbon garter on her right thigh got the color right. She even had a real sixpence in one of the white cowgirl boots she’d borrowed from Cassie. Clay, however, was not referring to any of those things.
“Yes,” she sighed before her breath caught at the sexy glints in his eyes. Clay owned her heart.
Beneath the silk organza and lace of her full-skirted wedding gown, she wore a red satin bustier and panties—the same lingerie he’d gifted her with that day in the hospital. She hadn’t worn the ensemble until she slipped into it that afternoon as she dressed for their wedding. She’d saved it for the moment he’d hold her in his arms, when he kissed her and made love to her for the first time as man and wife. This was her something new—the promise of the new life he’d given her there in her hospital room.
“Good,” he murmured against her lips. “Red is definitely your color.”
* * * * *