Lily Mae had been nervous when she’d first awakened, worried that Tony might come around or send someone to make trouble for her and Jace. But as the day wore on, she relaxed, realizing that whatever mess the strip club owner had gotten into, it was likely giving him bigger fish to fry.
By two o’clock, the couple was ready to make the twenty-hour drive home. Lyle would handle things until they arrived, but Lily Mae was fretting over how her actions might be perceived by Jace’s other friends. But he told her it didn’t matter.
“The only opinion you need to worry about is mine, Lily Mae,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder as they headed down the highway. “If people aim to gossip, they’ll gossip. Just put it out of your head, understand?”
She nodded, feeling like the luckiest girl alive. With Tony out of her life and the keys to her old condo now in the hands of the property manager, she’d finally closed the chapter on her life before Jace Whitaker.
“Jace,” she asked. “Do you think it’ll always be the way it is between us now?”
“You mean with me tanning your hide when you need it?” He arched an eyebrow. “Yes, ma’am.” He paused. “Why? You want it different?”
She shook her head and shifted on a bottom that had gone from sore to a tingling throb.
“No,” she said. “But I wonder if that’s really a good thing. I don’t know a lot of gals whose husbands spank them.”
“I bet you do,” he grinned. “The truth is, those gals just don’t admit it. I’d wager there’s not a good old boy in Texas who hasn’t walloped his wife’s backside at least once, Lily Mae. The difference here is that we don’t treat it like something abnormal or bad. I love you to pieces, and part of that means I need to keep you straight, for both our sakes.” He reached over and squeezed her hands, grinning as he did. “Admit it. You wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Lily Mae smiled back. “You’re absolutely right, baby. I wouldn’t.”
Chapter Seventeen
It was west Texas hot the day of the wedding. The first barn Jace’s father had built on the ranch provided the perfect venue for the late afternoon affair.
Lily Mae had opted for a traditional white dress with a strapless top and a bell-shaped skirt of white eyelet silk over crinoline. Her hair was piled on top of her head and accented with tiny seed pearls. For the first time since her mother’s funeral, she found herself tearing up over the memory of the woman who’d raised her without ever really being the kind of close maternal figure most daughters treasure.
“I hope you’d be proud of me, mama,” she said, looking in the mirror. By the evening, she’d be Mrs. Jace Whitaker, and she promised to honor her mother by having the kind of marriage her mom would have had if her life had only been different.
Her old friend Janine had returned to be her maid of honor. Lily Mae only had two other bridesmaids—Lyle’s younger sister Courtney and the florist’s assistant Grace Anne, who’d become her friend during all the wedding planning.
It was hard to believe after all she and Jace had been through, that their big day was finally here.
“Ready?” Janine was at her shoulder, smiling.
“More than ready,” Lily Mae smiled, and stood, allowing Janine to fluff her skirt as she clutched the simple bouquet of white calla lilies in her hands.
The fiddlers Jace had hired had started to play, and strains of The Wedding March cleaved the heavy air moved only by low-hanging ceiling fans installed just before the event.
Both sides of the barn’s large interior were dotted with tables sporting white linen tablecloths and bouquets of sunflowers. Chairs sat in the center of the room, with a space between them. At the front of the room, the preacher who’d presided over Lily’s mother’s funeral stood waiting to marry her to Jace, who stood with his best man Lyle and two other friends waiting for Lily to emerge from the former feed room she’d used to dress.
Murmurs rose from the assembled gathering as Lily Mae followed her bridesmaids up the aisle. Jace was wearing a suit with a bolo tie, his sandy, collar-length hair tamed for the big day. Lily Mae’s heart swelled; she was marrying the best-looking man in Texas, and judging by his expression, he seemed to think he was marrying the most beautiful girl.
“Gosh, you’re gorgeous,” he said as he took her hands.
The vows were traditional, and Lily Mae meant every word, feeling herself thrill a bit when she boldly promised to obey the man who promised to love, cherish, and protect her.
“Should have added ‘spank,’” he joked later when they were on the dance floor now cleared of chairs, and she’d giggled at this.
“That might have raised some eyebrows,” she said, “although I’m sure I raised plenty wearing a white dress.”
“How so?” he asked.
Lily Mae had sighed. “I’m hardly a blushing virgin.”