Chapter 23
Chapter Twenty-Three
Their wedding day, The Double L Ranch
Crone
“You may kiss your bride.” Jagger’s words rang across the Double L’s garden, filled with joy and perhaps a hint of mischief.
Crone looked down at Sienna, his heart swelling with love and pride.
The simple white sheath dress followed her curves like water, trailing behind her in an elegant sweep.
She’d woven wildflowers into her loose curls instead of wearing a veil, and the afternoon sun caught the tiny crystals scattered through her hair, making her sparkle like morning dew.
But it was her eyes that took his breath away.
They shone with such pure happiness that his chest ached.
“You are breathtaking, wife,” he whispered, still amazed that this remarkable woman was now his.
She gave him that smile that could outshine the sun. “And you, husband, look as debonair and fuckilicious as always.”
He couldn’t help but laugh at her saucy reply. “Hmm, if not for our friends having gone to so much trouble to arrange this very special day, I’d show you just how much, Mrs. Lange.”
Then he kissed her, pouring all his love and promises into that single moment.
“Eww!” George’s voice pierced the romantic moment. “Dat mushy stuff ’gain.”
“Course dey hafta!” Gloria scattered flower petals in wild arcs, mostly hitting the guests instead of the aisle. “’Cause dey love each other sooooo much.” She spun in a circle, her flower girl dress twirling. “And gonna be happy ever after.”
“But smoochin’ always?” George made a face, dropping his little ring pillow.
“You’re such a boy,” Gloria declared with all the wisdom of her three years. “Kisses are magic. Truuue luuuve. Like when Mommy kisses your owies better.”
Their walk down the aisle turned into joyful chaos as George and Gloria danced around them with streamers, singing at the top of their lungs: “Round ‘n round we go, tie dem up with love ‘n bows!” while Jagger tried to prevent what he called “a bridal tornado”.
In that moment of pure laughter and joy, Crone felt Sarah’s presence as a warm blessing. You can rest easy now, my first love. I've found happiness again. Different, but just as pure. Watch over us but be at peace.
The reception transformed the ranch’s back garden into a fairy tale wonderland, with twinkling lights that made Gloria gasp “Look! Real fairies!” and gossamer draping that George tried to catch. Crone’s heart swelled with love as Sienna’s eyes lit up with the same childlike wonder as the twins.
Derek and Jagger competed to tell the most entertaining stories about him, while Moira and Sadie tried, and failed, to keep them in check. But Crone didn’t mind. Every burst of laughter, every silly moment was perfect because it made Sienna happy.
“Congratulations. It’s not often one becomes new parents and newlyweds almost at the same time,” Nigel said.
“What he means is have a fabulous honeymoon while we get to love on Hope,” Hazel said as she rocked the baby in her arms, pausing only long enough for both Crone and Sienna to drop a kiss on their daughter’s forehead.
They had wanted to take little Hope with them on their honeymoon but in the end caved under the combined pressure of their friends stating the importance of starting their marriage the right way.
Besides, they couldn’t leave her in better hands than Nigel and Hazel’s.
“What she means is to take every advantage to practice your dancing under the stars while you can!” Jagger called out with a wink as they prepared to leave the reception sometime later.
George’s brow furrowed. “But dey done dancing.”
“Maybe dey wanna p’tice more,” Gloria said, spinning in her flower girl dress until she got dizzy. “Like Mommy ’n Daddy!”
“You’ve seen Mommy and Daddy dancing?” Moira asked, trying not to laugh.
“Uh-huh!” George nodded vigorously. “In de kitchen when we sneak down for snacks.” He leaned toward Derek. “Dey doan do it good.”
“Yes, dey bump de table,” Gloria added helpfully. “And pinch… why do you pinch Mommy, Daddy?”
“And she says ouch lots,” George added.
Jagger cleared his throat, fighting back laughter. “Well, maybe Crone and Sienna will be better dancers.”
“Yes,” Gloria said solemnly. “Dey gonna p‘tice.”
Crone took Sienna’s hand, both of them struggling not to laugh. “Time to go, kitten, before these two dance experts give away all our secrets.”
“Doan bump de table, Uncle C,” George added helpfully.
They walked hand in hand down the lantern-lit path, the sounds of the reception fading behind them. Laughter still bubbled up between them at the twins’ innocent commentary.
“Well, Mrs. Lange,” Crone pulled her close, “shall we go practice our dancing?”
“I don’t know,” Sienna’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “According to our experts, we might hurt ourselves. All that bumping and pinching…”
A chorus of small voices carried from behind them. “Wait! Wait!”
They turned to see George and Gloria running toward them, their fancy clothes already showing signs of their adventures.
“You f’got someting ’portant.” Gloria skidded to a stop, holding out a slightly squashed cupcake wrapped in a napkin.
“Very ’portant.” George nodded seriously. “Mommy says you can’t dance on empty tummy.”
“It’s de one wiff sprinkles,” Gloria added proudly. “’Cause it’s your wedday.”
Crone knelt down to their level and hugged them. “Better get back to the party, you two. I hear there might be more cupcakes waiting.”
“Wiff sprinkles?” Their eyes lit up.
“Lots of sprinkles.”
After one final squeeze, the twins ran back toward the party, their giggles floating on the evening breeze.
Sienna smiled as they watched them go but sobered as she glanced up at Crone. “Are we doing the right thing to leave Hope here while we go on our honeymoon? What if something happened and—”
Crone’s fingers on her lips silenced her. “Remember our new motto, love. Positive manifestation and living life with passion. No more doom and gloom for the Lange family.” He kissed her gently. “Our little Hope is a fighter and she knows she’s loved. She’ll be fine, I promise you.”
“I know, it’s just…” She hugged him fiercely.
“I just found her, we just found her and…” Sighing, she pushed the reservations to the back of her mind.
She knew they were unfounded and exactly what any new mother would feel leaving her little baby for the first time.
More than that, she and Crone needed this special time alone.
Her eyes glimmered as she looked at him.
“Well, husband, I believe I’ve waited long enough. You’re becoming even more fuckilicious by the second.”
“In that case…” He hoisted her over his shoulder and set off at a jog. Sienna’s shrieks of delight filled the air.
Crone
The glamping camp site, Rawhide Ranch
The moonlight painted silver patterns across their outdoor sanctuary, the soft glow of mason jar lights that Jagger and Moira had set up cast an ethereal shimmer around the bed that had been placed beneath the stars.
Crone’s breath hitched when he saw her—his wife—reclined against the pillows.
Her skin was luminous in the starlight with her lips curved in that knowing smile that had always been just for him.
“Come to me, husband,” she beckoned in a voice warm with amusement. “It’s rude to make your newly acquired wife wait.”
He joined her on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath them and rolling her gently toward him.
His breath caught at the soft weight of her settling against his side.
Warmth bloomed through the thin silk where her hip settled against his thigh, seeping into him in a slow spreading heat.
As he poured champagne into crystal flutes, her scent wrapped around him with every breath he drew.
The brush of her fingers against his as he passed hers across sent a current racing up his arm, settling sweet and aching behind his ribs.
My wife. The words stole the air from his lungs.
A burst of laughter rang out from her in a tingling spill of sound as a bubble caught her on the nose.
His breath caught, completely undone by the sound.
He caught her mouth mid-laugh, drinking her joy straight from her lips.
She melted into him with a softness that turned his mind blank.
Her tongue slid against his in a slow velvet glide.
The taste and heat of her drew a rumble from deep in his chest. He buried his fingers in the silk of her hair and angled her mouth deeper into his, hungry for more of her.
Beneath the pad of his thumb at the hollow behind her ear, her pulse quickened into a frantic little throb.
Each beat tapped warm against his skin, her desire pouring into him and twining with his in a single rising ache.
When he eased back at last, her eyes were dark and hazy, her breath coming in soft pants that warmed his jaw.
He reached past her with deliberate slowness, setting her glass safely on the deck, every movement heightening the anticipation he sensed in the rise and fall of her chest. Holding her gaze, he tipped his glass and spilled the champagne in a slow golden thread into the valley between her breasts.
She wheezed as the cold liquid spilled over her skin, her back arching off the bed. “Crone!”
“Shhh,” he murmured, lowering his head to lap at the champagne trail. His tongue was hot against her chilled flesh. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll warm you up.”
He mapped her body with reverence, memorizing every dip and swell as if she were a sacred text. His mouth followed with kisses pressed to her collarbone, the underside of her breast, and the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
“Crone…” Sienna tugged on his hair, her nails scraping lightly against his scalp as she whimpered his name.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her throat, his voice rough with emotion. “My wife. My heart.”
“I love you,” she breathed. “So much it overwhelms me sometimes.”