“What’s wrong?” Marissa said. “The dress is perfect. It was perfect yesterday, and it’s even more perfect today.”
“I’m so happy for you,” Darla said quietly. “You and Adam. It took so long for you to get here, but you’re here, and I’m happy and relieved and just full of joy for you both.”
“Don’t make me cry,” Marissa said. “Not yet.”
Another knock at the door. Alana opened it to take the bouquet of red roses from the event planner, who assured her everything was ready down at the beach. The officiant had arrived. They were ready whenever Marissa was ready.
“Let’s go,” she said.
Alana stuffed the extra packages of tissues and her travel sewing kit into her purse and followed Darla and Marissa through the corridor, into the elevator, and through the lobby. This wasn’t all that different from doing things with Freddie. Heads turned and conversations stopped when Marissa swept through the room, tall and slender and barefoot, her dark hair falling in tousled waves to her elbows, her bouquet of red roses held loose in one hand, Adam’s ring on her thumb, her eyes bright with fire and life.
They made their way past the pool, through the gate to the beach, and past the hotel guests packing up as the sun went down, to the event space. It was worth it to be in the background, watching for the moment Adam saw Marissa in her wedding dress. While in the middle of a conversation with Nate, Lucas, and the officiant, he stopped talking mid-sentence, as if seeing Marissa made the air evaporate from his lungs.
Gobsmacked was a term Freddie had picked up since meeting Toby. Adam looked gobsmacked. Nate’s smile was a little twist of his mouth.
Lucas was looking at Alana.
The expression on his face was so intense, so full of longing, that Alana almost turned to see who was standing behind her. She wore a very simple linen sheath in the cornflower blue that matched her eyes, and like everyone else on the beach besides the officiant, was barefoot. In keeping with the beach theme, she wore a subtle eye shadow and mascara with a tinted gloss on her lips. Her cheeks she’d trusted to her blushes.
Lucas kept staring. She ducked her head and felt her hair sliding across her hot cheek. When she was close enough, he held out his hand. In a move as natural as breathing, she reached for it, felt his warm, callused palm brush hers as he wove their fingers together. She forgot that they weren’t supposed to be doing this.
“Shall we begin?” the officiant asked.
There’d been no rehearsal dinner, no choreography. White wooden chairs and low tables laden with a casual meal and drinks lined the beach. The guests closed in a circle around Adam and Marissa, who stood with their hands linked as the officiant guided them through their vows. Fiery sunset reds, oranges, and pinks bathed their faces as they promised to love, honor, and cherish, until death did them part. The honesty and sincerity lay in every line of their bodies, transforming simple ceremony into powerful ritual, binding blood to blood and bone to bone. Tears welled up in Alana’s eyes.
“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant said.
Adam’s hand slid under Marissa’s hair to her nape, a possessive move mediated by the gentle brush he gave her lips. It was respectful and intimate all at once. Marissa’s lips curved into a smile under his, then gave way to a laughing sob as she threw her arms around his neck. A whoop and a round of applause, then the circle closed into handshakes and hugs.
“That’s not a gold band,” Alana said with a laugh.
A platinum band set with princess-cut diamonds encircled Marissa’s ring finger. She stared down at it. “No, it’s not.”
Adam brushed a kiss on the top of her head. “You thought we should have matching bands. I thought you should have that.”
“I love it,” she whispered.
“Good,” he whispered back.
? ? ?
LIGHT POLLUTION BLANCHED the sky to dusky gray velvet dotted with stars when Alana found herself in one of the chairs, sipping a glass of white wine as Marissa opened presents. Nate had organized a group gift from the marines, a transponder with Wi-Fi, USB, and a GPS that could be run from their phones. Lucas slid into the chair next to hers and held out a plate with a slice of wedding cake.
“Thank you,” she said, touched.
He sectioned off a bit of the cake and stared out at the ocean.
“Bill Garrett seems to think I have cooties,” she said. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“I might,” he said, then ate another bite. “Do you want to know?”
“Not really,” she admitted. “But thank you.”
“I thought you’d know how to handle him.”
She let the frosting dissolve on her tongue before she spoke. “I’m a product of eleven years of girls’ schools, and Freddie Wentworth’s little sister. No one ever notices me.”
“I noticed you,” he said. “I noticed you right away.”