Chapter 21
Becky’s hair was elaborately braided on the sides, masses of red curls cascading down her back. She stared into the mirror, fiddling with its riotous bulk in an attempt to tame the beast.
Her old friend Julie stilled Becky’s hand with her own. “Stop it. You look ravishing.”
“Says Mrs. Perfect Pants.” Julie’s purple bridesmaid dress had a boat-neck that looked both classy and elegant. “I feel like the ugly stepsister next to you.”
Julie held her arms out to her sides. “You picked out this dress!”
“I have good taste.” She looked in the mirror and cursed like a biker. “Can you help me with my hair, please? I just want it a little less poofy.”
“Oh, give me that.” Julie lifted Becky’s hair and ran the brush through the curls on the very bottom, making the top fall perfectly.
“How do you do that? You’re like Jesus calming the storm.”
“Thank you very much.” Julie put the brush back on the vanity. “Stand up. I want to see.”
Becky did, her massive skirts rustling, and she smiled widely.
For all of her bravado and modern fashion sense, when it came to picking a wedding gown, she had gone completely traditional.
The white satin bodice was rich with elaborate beading, fine lace covering her arms, her shapely shoulders bare.
“You look incredible. Are you ready for this?”
“As long as I don’t throw up on my shoes when it’s time for my vows, I should be golden.”
“Did you write your own?”
Becky nodded. “Rowan’s idea. He’s a total sap.”
“I think it’s sweet.”
“That’s because you’re a total sap, too.”
The door opened and Gwen yelled in, “Knock, knock! It’s me and Fiona!”
“Come on in,” said Becky.
Joanie was sleeping on Gwen’s shoulder. “Becky, my dear! You look stunning. The minister says he’s ready to begin when you are.”
No turning back now. Not that she would want to. “Is Rowan here?”
“He is. Colin says he’s a nervous wreck!” She smiled gleefully.
“Good.” Becky took one last look in the mirror and picked up her bouquet of yellow and purple roses. “You ready to get this show on the road, Fiona?”
“I sure am!” Becky’s niece looked just like Becky had at her age.
How could I have thought I was ugly? So much had transpired since those early years, but even as she thought it, she knew the real change had come with Rowan’s love. She bit back the sentiment. “I am not going to cry. Let’s go get hitched!”
Becky turned around just as her father stepped in the room, and a wave of emotion nearly knocked her to the floor. She pointed her index finger accusingly at the only other man she had ever loved. “Don’t say anything nice to me, or I’m going to lose it.”
He smiled, a gleam lighting his eye as he stared at his youngest daughter. “You really wearing white?”
Becky burst out laughing and walked to her father, locking her arm with his. “Thanks, Daddy.”
Rowan stood before the people who mattered in his life and turned to the woman he loved.
“I promise to honor you, to love you and respect you, to go to the store for you when you want ice cream, to make you laugh and to fix the furnace, to believe in you when you stop believing in yourself, and to always remember that you are the most important person in my life. I look forward to spending my days steeped in your company, my nights holding you in my arms, to every fight and every making up. I love you, Becky O’Connor, and I will do my very best to make you happy every day for the rest of our lives. ”
Becky couldn’t keep the tears from falling, couldn’t contain this emotional high.
She threw her head back and screamed, making the congregation laugh.
“Okay. Here goes. Rowan, I love you. I never thought I’d find anyone to love me, not like you do.
You are my sunshine when it’s cloudy, my rain when everything’s too dry.
You’ve made me so happy. I promise to love you, to honor you, and to keep you, all the days of my life.
Oh, and I promise not to make you sorry we did this. ”
The congregation laughed again, and Becky leaned forward to kiss Rowan soundly on the lips.
The minister cleared his throat. “We didn’t get to that part yet.”
“Whoops! Sorry,” she said.
Rowan was smiling. “Get to the ‘I now pronounce you’ part.”
“By the power vested in me by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
Rowan and Becky threw themselves at each other, to the delight of their family and friends.
The minister shrugged his shoulders. “You may now kiss the bride!”
The reception was in full swing.
The cake had been cut, and thrown and mashed into Rowan’s ear, Becky had danced with her father and shared her first dance with Rowan as husband and wife. Music and laughter permeated the air, candlelight twinkled from every table and glasses clinked in merriment.
Becky danced to “Cotton-Eye Joe” with her brother-in-law Liam, laughing herself silly, then went in search of her beau. She found him just as he stepped up to the bar and she slipped her arms around him from behind.
“Well, hello there, Mrs. Mitchell.”
“Hey, baby. What do you say we blow this taco stand?”
His brows drew together. “It’s early. You really want to go already?”
She smiled devilishly. “We won’t be gone long. You know that balcony off our hotel room? I thought we could see how well it’s bolted to the wall.”
His eyes widened. “You serious?”
“Heck yeah, sailor!” She took him by the hand and started to walk backward.
“It faces the Drake. Someone might see us.”
“Yep.” She raised her eyebrows. “They sure might.”
He picked up his pace and spun her around, his hand at her waist. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
“You have, but you can say it again when I get out of this dress.” They reached the elevator and she pressed the button, her eyes slowly taking in the length of his body, perfect in his tuxedo.
“I can’t wait to make love to you,” he whispered.
“Wait ‘till you see my ‘something blue’.”
The doors opened and they stepped inside.
“You’re driving me crazy.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She smiled as he took her in his arms. “I haven’t even gotten started yet.”
Thank you for reading Artful Deception by Amy Gamet.