The Accidental Honeymoon (Wildflower Lane #1)

Chapter 39

thirty-nine

CALLA

Six Months Later

Why am I so nervous? This is my second rodeo. Minus the tequila, of course. I’ll be sober as a judge when I make my vows.

This time, Jay and I will both mean it. Till death do us part.

I stand in front of the mirror, fiddling with the neckline of my dress. It’s a soft ivory, the exact color of a dollop of vanilla-infused whipped cream. It fits me better than I expected. Coupled with my shoulder-length veil and a bouquet of calla lilies, I look as graceful as a ballerina.

My hair, however, is doing that thing where it refuses to cooperate. It’s a tangle of dark brown and its rebellion works against my usually meticulous style. I try to smooth it down. A curl pops up and I try for another full minute to get it to lay down. Then I give up and let it be.

My hair just refuses to be tamed, apparently.

I take a deep breath. Then I take another. It’s not as if I’m talking myself into anything. Wild horses couldn’t tear me away from meeting Jay at the altar. I’m not his ex-fiancée Blake and I’m determined to show up for him.

Plus, we’re already married!

I pick up the small bouquet of white lilies and baby’s breath. My hands are sweaty, ruining the delicate tissue paper wrapping. I set it down quickly.

God, is Jay this worried?

I open the door a crack and peek out. Jay is pacing the hallway, his brow furrowed. He looks tall and handsome in his charcoal suit. His movements betray a hint of nervousness.

So yes. We’re both anxious.

He stops pacing. He checks his watch and runs a hand through his hair. There’s a tension in his movements that I’m not used to seeing. My husband, and husband to be, is the epitome of laid-back. He is the kind of guy who can make eating a bowl of granola look like an adventure. This is endearing.

I retreat back into the room to grab two things. One, an expensive pocket square in a that I had specially made for today. It’s in a brilliant shade of chartreuse. And two, a matching length of chartreuse ribbon that I wind around the base of my bouquet.

I take the bouquet again, more gently this time. Then I open the door.

Jay turns. For a moment, I think he’s going to break into that easy, confident smile that disarms everyone in a ten-mile radius. But he doesn’t. Instead, his blue eyes meet mine with an intensity that makes me want to look away because I couldn’t believe a look like that would be directed at me. Now I can’t stop looking back at him.

“Ready?” he asks softly .

“I have something for you.” I beckon him closer and then tuck the pocket square in his suit pocket.

Jay breaks out into a grin. “You remembered my wedding colors.”

“It’s funny. I remember everything about that day except the actual marriage.”

He stares at me for a second then shakes his head. “You’re perfect. Do you know that? Absolutely meant for me. I feel really lucky.”

“Not as lucky as I feel. Trust me.” I wrinkle my nose and show him my bouquet. “We’re a matching pair. In life, in everything. Chartreuse may not be a popular wedding color. But if we both wear it, nobody will say boo.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. I’m pretty sure that every single person invited to this wedding is rooting for us.” He helps me into a cream-colored overcoat to ward off the crisp autumn chill, then offers me his elbow. “Ready?”

“Beyond ready,” I tell him. He shrugs on a dark overcoat and ushers me out of the building.

Leaving the house on Wildflower Lane, we walk side by side for the four blocks to the clerk’s office. As we hit the tiled courthouse floors, I’m grateful for my Converse sneakers. Today’s pair is cream, with little chartreuse hearts that match my bouquet.

The clerk, a no-nonsense older woman with glasses perched on the end of her nose, types something into her computer. She looks up and smiles. “May I help you?”

“We’re here to file the paperwork to change my name to Calanthe Rustin.” I make a face. “It’s kind of a long story, but we actually already married. Today, we’re having the official ceremony.”

“Congratulations, you two. This is a big step.”

“Thanks.” Jay slides me a look and takes my hand. “It’s been a long time coming.”

The clerk accepts the paperwork that Jay hands her, then spends the next couple of minutes making sure everything is complete. Then she hands me a piece of paper and a pen. “Just need your signature, Mrs. Rustin.”

Mrs. Rustin. I’m really, officially, going to be Mrs. Rustin. I squeeze Jay’s hand. He bites his lip and gives me an encouraging nod.

I sign the paper with a flourish. It’s funny. For the first time, I really wish that the Alto & Ash camera crew were on hand to film this moment. It feels like a scene directly ripped from a movie.

The clerk takes the paper back and stamps the form. “You’re all set. Have a wonderful life together.”

We step out into the open. It’s blinding out here after the florescent dimness of the courthouse interior. I squint and shade my eyes with the bouquet.

“We did it, Mrs. Rustin.” Jay’s smile is as bright as the afternoon sun. “You’re all mine now. No takebacks.”

“Come here.” I grip his collar and press a kiss to my new husband’s lips. “It feels official.”

“It’s forever.” He offers me his arm.

I don’t hesitate before taking it and leaning against his body. I wasn’t part of planning this part of the wedding, so I have only the faintest idea what I’m going to see.

We start walking toward the gazebo. Our footsteps are in sync, as if we’ve done this a thousand times before. Maybe we have, in other lifetimes or other timelines. I like to think that I’d find Jay, or he’d find me, no matter what.

As we draw closer, I see the gazebo is draped in white chiffon. Sunlight filters through the trees and casts soft shadows on the pathway. The whole scene feels delicate, like it might shatter if I breathe too hard.

“Oh Jay.” I touch my heart, staring at the place we woke up as husband and wife. “It looks beautiful.”

He leads me to the center of the gazebo, where a small crowd of friends and family has gathered. Phones are at the ready to capture every moment. I let go of his arm and circle one of the wooden pillars. The chiffon flutters in a gentle breeze.

This isn’t the wedding I would have planned for myself. In fact, I doubt I would’ve insisted on a ceremony at all.

But Jay did this for us. And I absolutely adore it. I also hope that one of the Alto & Ash camera crew is capturing this moment from afar. It’s something I want to remember and cherish over and over again.

It’s odd. I never thought I’d be standing here as the bride. I mean, before I woke up here as the bride. But now that it’s really happening, it seems sort of unreal.

The chaplain asks, “Do you, Jay, take this woman, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” He looks into my eyes and smiles. “I promise to love you until my dying breath. It’ll be my honor.”

“And do you Calla, take this man, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do. I—” I choke up at this point. “I choose you, Jay. Today and always.”

He squeezes my hands, then pulls me into his arms for a passionate kiss before the chaplain can say anything more. A cheer goes up from our gathered family and friends .

“—kiss the bride.”

With the vows complete, the crowd erupts into applause. Jay pulls me into a spontaneous twirl. Our laughter mingles with the cheers. A brass band starts playing the familiar notes of “When the Saints Go Marching In” and several gold-suited dancers begin leading us in a procession arounds the town square. Jay hands me a white silk umbrella and I open it with a grin.

“Ready?” Jay looks at me mischievously. He opens his matching umbrella. All the guests walk behind us, waving white handkerchiefs. We bebop to the beat of the band.

I’m not familiar with the Louisiana-style second line tradition. But Jay is so joyful as we follow the procession that I can’t help but enjoy myself. We are really celebrating getting married this time.

After making a couple of slow laps around the town square, we dance ourselves right into the Tin Shed Pub.

I can’t stop grinning. Everyone in my family makes sure to hug and kiss both me and Jay. My mother manages to wrangle a kiss from Wren and welcome her to the family. Wren turns so red that I have to rescue her before she dies from embarrassment.

The celebration shifts to the cake cutting. My masterpiece takes center stage. I watch as Jay slices into the cake with exaggerated care. It’s Gentilly Cream Cake, just like before. He feeds me a piece with a teasing smile that makes my cheeks flush.

There are a few toasts from my father and Ryan. But since we decided that this version of our reception would be dry, there isn’t much weeping (only my dad violates this rule) and toasts only go on for a few minutes.

Bennett feeds everyone, while Wren and Jay’s friend Gabe circle the room with bottles of non-alcoholic apple cider. And if anyone misses tequila, they are too smart to mention it.

As the night winds down, Jay and I share a quiet moment away from the crowd. He pulls me outside and we walk to the gazebo, both wrapped in his big overcoat. The fairy lights cast a soft glow on his face as he teases me.

“We’ve conquered the marriage thing. What’s next?”

I tilt my head, considering. “Well.” I draw out the word playfully. “I suppose we should start having kids.”

His eyes light up. Before I can react, he kisses me. His lips are gentle but full of startling enthusiasm.

“I can’t wait to start building our own family.” His breath mingles with mine.

I blush. The heat rushing to my cheeks is almost unbearable.

“I can already imagine a little boy with your eyes.” I surprise myself with the honesty of it.

The image is so clear in my mind. A tiny version of Jay, with the same blue eyes and disarming smile, runs around in a pair of miniature Converse sneakers. It’s a vision that fills me with unexpected tenderness.

I hold up a finger. “But I want to wait a while before we start trying.”

Jay’s fingers trace the outline of my hand. His touch sends shivers up my arm. “Calla. I would wait for eternity if you asked me to.”

There’s a depth to his tone that makes my heart ache. I look up into his eyes.

“Ready to sleep over in the gazebo like the first night we got together?” I ask. I point to where Cora has tucked two rolled-up heavy duty sleeping bags on the ground.

His breath hitches and he smiles. “So ready.”

I giggle and grab the sleeping bags, unfurling them both. It takes a minute to zip the bags together to make them one big bag. As we untie our shoes and shimmy into the sleeping bags, I can’t think of when I’ve ever been quite this happy. I have Jay by my side, now and forever.

We snuggle down in the cojoined sleeping bags. I fall asleep knowing I’ll wake up in his arms tomorrow, and every damn day after that.

But hopefully never again on concrete.