FOR THE MIDDLE of March, it was unseasonably warm in Southern California. We’d enjoyed days in the mid-seventies. Today was no different as the sun was about to set over the Pacific Ocean.

“Damn, little cousin, you’re stunning.”

I smiled at Patrick through my lashes. “You know, I think you said the same thing right before my interview with Karen.”

“Well, what can I say? I need to work on expanding my vocabulary. I should get one of those word-of-the-day calendars.”

“You’re very handsome yourself. Wait until Cy sees you in that suit.”

Patrick reached the lapels and puffed his chest. “I know. I know. It’s a curse.”

We stood together before the full-length mirror in the master bedroom of the presidential suite in Del Mar. Yes, the same suite, the same resort. I wasn’t sure how Nox was able to schedule it. Spring recess was a busy time at all the beachfront resorts around the country. It was also the first time since the semester break that I’d had the time to go away. Thankfully my grades were improving.

Patrick pressed the palm of his hand against the white satin, below the empire waist of my wedding dress. “Hey, teeny-tiny cousin, this is your favorite cousin, Pat. Just checking in. How you doing in there?”

I shook my head.

“That bump is getting bigger than teeny-tiny.”

“Thanks, Pat,” I said. “Just what every girl wants to hear before she walks down the aisle.”

He stood behind me, his chin at my shoulder. “You should see what I see.”

I shrugged.

“Oh, no.” He pointed to the bottom of the mirror. “Listen to me. Start at the floor. Look down there.”

Taking a deep breath, I did as he said.

“What do you see?” Pat asked.

“Shoes.”

Pat shook his head. “I’m getting you that calendar. Look again and let me tell you what I see: I see Louboutin white crystal-encrusted pumps peeking out from under a ballgown satin skirt that’s covered in shimmering white organza. As I look higher, the empire waist keeps my tiny cousin hidden, while the scoop neckline accentuates those glorious growing ta-tas.

“My God, Lennox won’t be able to get higher than that neckline. And above it, above them…” He wiggled his brows. “… is the beautiful pearl necklace that never seems to leave your graceful neck.”

He lifted my chin.

“And higher, now that’s the most stunning of all. I see the perfectly painted lips, permanently stuck in the most sickeningly sweet smile, cheeks that are tinted by the sun, and golden eyes that sparkle at the mere thought of the man out there on the balcony. Above it all, luscious auburn hair with highlights of gold and lowlights of mahogany that has been styled into the perfect ‘do.”

He reached for the diamond tiara on the nearby table and lowered it to my head.

“Pat, I wasn’t sure if I was going to wear that.”

As he secured the combs to keep it in place, he asked, “Then why did you buy it?”

“Because I wanted to be his princess.”

He kissed my cheek. “You always will be.”

I turned, the skirt pivoting with me. “Thank you.”

He took a step back. “And for the record, I’m only walking your pregnant ass down the aisle. I am not now giving nor never will give you away.”

“I love you.”

The door opened and Patrick jumped in front of me, his arms spread wide. “Hey, no seeing—”

“Keep your panties in place,” Chelsea said. “I’ve seen her. Hell, I dressed her. Babe, it’s time.” She winked. “And I know you can do this.”

“What would Chelsea do?” I said, reminding her of the imaginary bracelet she’d told me to wear on my first date with Nox.

“Oh, no. Hell no. Charli with an i has this thing covered.”

She came behind me in the mirror; only a small bit of her navy maid of honor dress showed behind my wide skirt as she brought her face next to mine. Our resemblance was gone. Her hair was now a lovely shade of blonde with blue tips that covered the last six inches. The soft blue curls were colored specifically to match her dress. It worked.

I reached up and hugged her face next to my shoulder. “I love you too.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you,” Chelsea said, “but if you don’t get out there soon, I think you’ll have some stiff competition.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Jane is in total love with your guy.”

“I know.” I laughed. “She’s told me at least a thousand times. She’s so excited about the baby.”

“We all are. Now…” She reached for my hand. “…are you ready for the show?”

“No, I’m ready for the real thing.”

“Then it’s time to go get him. Your mom is so nervous that I think she may take flight. You know, that thing she does with her hand by her throat.”

I shook my head. “Yes. It’s better than a wine glass.”

“Well, Mr. Demetri is holding on tight, keeping her from becoming airborne.”

“Come on, cousins,” Pat said to me.

I nodded to Chelsea who picked up her bouquet and handed the larger one to me.

“Let’s do this!”

Placing his hand at his waist, Pat offered me his arm. “Striking, astonishing, dazzling, and eye-catching.”

We paused before the entry, still hidden from all the people on the balcony, as Chelsea walked before us. I leaned closer to Pat and whispered, “Tell me you didn’t just Google synonyms for stunning.”

Winking, he patted my hand as the music of the harpist grew louder. It was the wedding march, very traditional and old-fashioned. It was perfect—ideal, wonderful, and picture-perfect. I didn’t need a calendar.

I closed my eyes as Pat led me through the glass door to the balcony. In front of the pool, a small arrangement of chairs, flowers, a harpist, and an altar had been assembled. We didn’t have a his side and a my side, just a grouping of chairs that held my momma, Oren, Jane, Aunt Gwen, Uncle Preston, Cy, Deloris, and Clayton.

As my gaze lifted, my breathing hitched. With the orange glow of the setting sun sending prisms of light dancing off the waves below, the other guests, the minister, Isaac, and even Chelsea disappeared. All I could see was the man in the silk suit. Holding his own hands in front of him, he shifted slightly from one foot to the other, causing his suit coat to shift, accentuating his wide shoulders and the V of his trim waist. His dark hair was gelled back and his tie matched his eyes. His chin was covered with only a hint of stubble and his smile shone like a beacon beckoning my approach.

My steps stuttered as Nox scanned me from my Louboutins all the way to the diamond tiara. Like the first time he’d seen me at the pool, his light blue eyes burned my skin, sending a rush of heat and leaving goose bumps in its wake. I was covered in satin and shimmering organza, yet under his approving gaze I was stripped bare.

My princess, he mouthed.

My Batman, I returned.

Our endearments weren’t audible, though our hearts heard every syllable. In his, I heard his deep timbre. It rolled like thunder to my soul until I searched the horizon for the clouds. There weren’t any. The sky was clear and darkening by the second, making the white twinkling lights decorating the balcony and below the pool’s surface sparkle like fireflies.

Stopping before Nox, Pat lifted my hand and placed it in Nox’s. “Take care of her or I’ll have to kick your ass.”

We all laughed.

“What?” Pat said as he sat beside Cy. “I could… if I wanted to.”

“Dearly beloved,” the minister began.

I suppose I’m supposed to remember every word, but the phrases, combined with the gentle breeze and ocean’s surf, faded away. Our marriage wasn’t about words but about us and about what together we could never be alone. With my hand in Nox’s I was filled with love and hope. I was part of a family. I loved and was loved.

Were they butterflies that fluttered in my tummy as Nox said the words I do, or was it our baby?

With tears of joy pooling on my lids, I turned to the minister as he asked, “Alexandria Charles Montague Collins, do you take this man as your lawfully wedded husband?”

This time in front of witnesses there was no hesitation. “Yes, with all my heart I do.”

OUR RECEPTION WASN’T held until a week later at a large hall in Brooklyn, New York. It was Nox’s cousin Vincent Costello and his wife Bella who’d planned it all. They insisted, understanding our desire for a small, intimate wedding.

“Fine, fine, I get it,” Vincent had said. “You’ve had enough news coverage, but Alexandria, you must allow us to celebrate. Not just us, but all of us.” He emphasized the word all.

I’ll never forget his boisterous laugh and welcoming smile. From the first time Nox took me to their home, I was welcomed. Not just by Vincent and Bella, but also by the entirety of the Costello clan and that encompassed a lot of us.

In a way, being with this part of his family made me feel as if I were meeting his mother. After all this was her family.

How could I say no?

And now surrounded by cousins and more cousins, my small family had grown by leaps and bounds. There were so many women, all anxious to give me their marriage and mothering advice.

I wanted it, every word. I also wanted to accept the invitations to learn to cook. They told stories of family meals preceded by full-day cookathons. It was a life I’d never experienced, but one I was anxious to try, not only for me, but also for our child. He or she would only know love, so much love.

“Alex,” Eva, Nox’s cousin who was the doctor, asked, “How are you feeling?”

“Good…” As I spoke I glanced over at my mom. She and Vincent seemed to be in an in-depth conversation. It amazed me how the family had welcomed her as well as me, and not only as my mother, but also as Oren’s significant other.

Nox was speaking with his cousin Luca, laughing and jabbing playfully at one another. And then I spotted Oren. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he looked concerned as he watched my mother with Vincent from afar. What did he possibly think Vincent would say to my mother?

“Princess.”

I turned to the deep voice of my husband. “Yes?”

Nox reached for my hand and pulled me close. “Our first dance is coming up, but I was wondering…” His lips quirked upward and his blue eyes shone.

I looked around the room full of people. “What were you wondering?”

“There’s a gas station down the street. I thought maybe you and I could go there before our dance, because, Mrs. Demetri, I’m dying here, not being able to touch you like I want to. You’re the most stunning bride I’ve ever seen and as much as I appreciate all that my family’s done for us, right now I want to get you alone.”

My cheeks warmed and pulse increased at the memory of Nox and I at a gas station along Highway 101. “Get me alone?” I wrapped my arms around his neck as our bodies came together. “And, pray tell, what would happen if we were alone?”

His warm breath skirted my neck, leaving goose bumps in its wake as he leaned down and whispered, “Trust me, another standing ovation.”