“I know you do, my darling. Now off you go to start living your beautiful life together,” she said to both of us before the final hugs and kisses were exchanged.
Caleb drove us to the Blackstone Island Airport in the new Range Rover Autobiography he’d bought for island use as he referred to it. I’d never part with Woody, but I did love driving the new Rover, which delivered an exceptionally smooth ride over the bouncy lanes. It was a short trip to the airport.
A chartered Gulfstream was lit up, waiting to take us to Hawaii for our honeymoon, our bags and everything we needed already stowed.
The only thing left for us to do was board the plane.
“Please wait for me, Mrs. Blackstone,” he said. “Stay right where you are.”
“Yes, darling.” I mocked him a little, but only because I knew it wound him up when I teased him. In only the sexiest way, he’d once told me.
Caleb came around to my side of the Rover, and opened my door. Then he helped me to step down while bunching the skirt of my dress in one hand, so I didn’t ruin it.
Still in our wedding clothes, we both needed to change into something more comfortable for our eleven-hour flight to Hawaii. The Gulfstream had a private master bedroom, so I imagined we’d make good use of it. Eleven hours was an awfully long stint to be up in the air, and we should fill our time effectively. Fill being the operative word.
“This is what I wanted to do,” he said as he swept me up into his arms. “Carry my bride over the threshold—in this case it’s the threshold of a jet plane, but it’ll work.”
“My husband is very strong to lug me around so effortlessly,” I said, looking up at him as he carried me onto the plane.
“My wife is a feather when it comes to me having to lug her around,” he quipped before planting a decadent kiss on my lips.
At the top of the stairs, we were greeted by the flight staff and the pilots who offered their congratulations on our marriage. Caleb didn’t set me down until we’d made our way to the back of the plane and into the master suite. He shut us inside and locked the door, a wicked smirk lighting up his handsome face as he worked.
“You’re not even breathing heavily after carrying me all that distance.”
He pushed up against me and stared down. “You’ll be witness to my heavy breathing in a bit, Mrs. Blackstone, but first we need to take care of a few things.”
“What sorts of things?” I asked innocently.
“Well, we need to choose a wedding photo to share with the world, for one thing,” he answered.
“Yes, that’s true.” I nodded.
“We should probably send a text to our close family and friends first, though. They’ll have their feelings hurt if they find out our news from the paparazzi before we can tell them.”
“You are so smart, Caleb. You have thought of everything.” I sat down on the bed and pulled him down to sit beside me. We scrolled through the many photos Nan had taken, until we decided on the one we wanted to share. Caleb sent it off to Victoria with instructions to forward it to the head of PR at Blackstone Global for release to the press with the simple message:
Caleb Blackstone and Brooke Casterley were married this evening in a private ceremony at Stone Church chapel on south Blackstone Island.
The picture was of us in the doorway of the church, the interior backlit with the candle glow, and the scattered rose petals clearly visible upon the floor. Caleb’s lips were pressed to the back of my hand as I smiled up at him with love.
To our close friends and family, we sent a different message:
We took the advice of a very wise man, and decided to hold on to our happiness, and each other, starting tonight. With much love, Caleb & Brooke Blackstone xoxo
After the second text was sent, Caleb powered off his phone and pulled me into his arms.
He showed me how much he loved me, as he had done from the very beginning when we’d first met.
My gentleman lover with the dirty mouth and the romantic sensibilities, who couldn’t remember what a meatball was called, and who knew nothing about shopping at Target before he met me.
My filthy rich billionaire, who concerned himself with villages in Africa in need of fresh well water more than how to make the next dollar.
My husband who loved me and who would be the father our future children adored and respected.
My wonderful, amazing, perfect man.
EPILOGUE
Caleb
February
You have always been just like your father. I never understood his fascination with the help.” My mother waved her hand in a graceful circle toward Brooke and Ellen. “JW’s philanthropic notions with his charities and good works to help those less fortunate were deeply in him. You’ve followed right in his footsteps, Caleb.” I knew what she was doing. Her skills at delivering an insult while making it appear as if she was simply being charming were almost legendary. I decided to call her out on it.