Jameson
All day, Georgie seemed confident. Every time I looked into her bright green eyes, I expected to see nervousness and fear. Instead, she seemed sure that today, a random Tuesday, was the perfect day to get married. That confidence matched my own. I woke up knowing that I couldn’t let another day pass without Georgie as my wife.
Chief Justice Ormsby held two plain gold bands in the center of her palm. I plucked one from her palm and reached for Georgie’s hand, sliding the band up her left ring finger. I repeated Justice Ormsby’s words. “I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife. Before this witness, I vow to love you and care for you as long as we both shall live. I take you, with all your faults and strengths, and offer myself to you, with all my faults and strengths. I will help you when needed and will turn to you during my own times of need. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life.”
I reached up and swiped my thumb across Georgie’s cheek, wiping the stray tear from her cheek. This was the most important promise that I had ever made, and I had every intention of keeping it until the day I took my last breath.
I watched Georgie repeat my actions, taking the ring from Justice Ormsby’s palm and then sliding it down my finger. There was a slight tremble in her hand, but when I caught her gaze, I saw that her tears were flowing freely. Georgie repeated the same vows, stopping once or twice to calm herself and to swipe at her tear-soaked cheeks. When she finished, she smiled triumphantly.
“Jameson and Georgina, love should be the core of your marriage. Love is the reason you are both here today. But a good marriage also needs trust. You need to know in your heart that you want what is best for the other. A marriage takes dedication to stay open to one another; to learn and grow from each other, even when it is not easy to do so. You will need faith and to be willing to move forward to tomorrow even when you don’t know what tomorrow will bring. And lastly, a marriage takes commitment, to hold true to the journey you have pledged to share together.
“Jameson and Georgina, in so much as the two of you have agreed to live together in matrimony, you have promised your love for each other with these vows, I now declare you husband and wife. Jameson, you may now kiss your bride. Congratulations.”
There was a small round of applause from the Secret Service agents and the White House photographer in attendance, but the sound faded away the moment I wrapped my wife in my arms and kissed her. Her arms wound their way around my body, holding me tightly to her as she accepted the kiss, opening for me like a flower. My tongue dipped inside, sweeping her lips gently. I tamed the hunger that ignited inside me because it could wait until we were alone.
“Georgie,” I whispered after our kiss ended.
“Yes,” she answered breathlessly, her eyes still closed.
“I have a very important question to ask you.”
“It’s a little too late for that, Jameson. I already married you.”
A chuckled escaped. “Not that question.”
“Oh. What is it?”
“How does it feel to be my wife?”
“Wonderful,” she answered, nuzzling her face into my neck. I held her against my chest for a moment until Chief Justice Ormsby cleared her throat.
“You two are sweet, really, but I’ve still got work to do today.”
I released Georgie and turned to Justice Ormsby, who was smiling happily. I surprised her with a hug, and then we followed her back to her chambers to sign the marriage license and the other necessary paperwork.
“I’ll have this sent over in a few days,” she informed us just before we left.
“I have a surprise for you,” I announced as we slid into the back of the limousine.
Georgie was looking down at the gold band recently added to her finger, grinning foolishly. I grabbed her left hand and brought it up to my lips, kissing it reverently, adding an unspoken vow to the ones we’d already pledged.
“Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it,” she finally responded. My eyebrows shot up; she wasn’t going to try to pepper me with question after question, trying to wheedle the information out of me? Marriage was already changing her.
The motorcade bypassed the White House and headed for the airfield where Air Force One waited for us. The limousine pulled in front of the massive jet, and I helped Georgie out. She gasped in surprise, and I could see her battling with herself to ask questions, but she kept her lips tightly closed.
We walked up the staircase and into the plush cabin. The flight wouldn’t last long, so there was no need to make use of the conference room; I wasn’t doing any work today. And even though the bedroom was tempting, I didn’t want to consummate our marriage on board an aircraft. We settled into our seats and sipped from celebratory glasses of champagne. None of the crew on board knew that we were married. After Georgie’s miscarriage, I started wearing a wedding band to symbolize my commitment to her. There was speculation that we married in Finland, which we denied multiple times. So the fact I wore a wedding band wouldn’t have seemed strange to the crew, and Georgie’s massive emerald practically hid hers. Our secret was safe for now.
We arrived in Boston, and once Georgie and I deplaned, I could tell that she was ready to burst with questions.
“Just ask them,” I told her.
“No. I want to be surprised,” she said resolutely.
“Suit yourself.”
I saw her eyes widen as we passed the exits we would normally take for our home in Beacon Hill, and then she uttered a small gasp when she realized where we were heading.
“You’re taking me home? To New Hampshire?”
“You’ll see,” I answered cryptically.
We sped along the coast, past the exits for Exeter, and Georgie’s curiosity only grew. I could see her eyes darken with the mystery of my surprise. She perched on the very edge of her seat, looking out through the heavily tinted windows for any clue. I reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back to me.
“I put the Beacon Hill property up for sale,” I informed her. When she started to protest, I placed a finger over her lips, silencing her. “I bought something new, something that I want to be our home. I want a family with you, and I want them to grow up here.”
My hand slid down her thigh and under the skirt of the blue dress she wore. “This is where we will start our family,” I whispered, running my nose along the column of her neck.
“Jameson,” Georgie breathed out.
“We’re here.” I could tell by the sound of tires crunching along the uneven pavement that we were making our way down the private road that led to the property I’d recently purchased.
The limousine stopped, and we waited for the door to open. I urged Georgie out of the back, eager to not only show her the property, but to also get her inside and undressed.
“Oh my God,” she gasped.
The estate was massive, and the cedar shingles had weathered beautifully. The white trim had been freshly painted and popped against the dark brown siding and stonework. Then there was the view; the property was on the coast and provided us with a view of the Isles of Shoals and Gerrish Island in Maine.
“This is stunning, Jameson,” Georgie said, turning back to me.
“This is ours. This is where I want our life to continue.” I came up behind her and circled her waist with my hands. “Are you happy?”
“I’m in shock, Jameson. But yes, I’m happy.”
“Good. Let’s go inside.”
I took Georgie by the hand, and she followed me as I led her up the wide front porch and through the front doors. The house was sparsely furnished. We would take care of that later; for now, it had only a few essentials.
“Oh my,” Georgie breathed out. “The inside is just as gorgeous as the outside.”
I looked around and agreed. The walls were painted a light dove gray and the floors were a gleaming dark hardwood.
“Georgie,” I growled. My patience was wearing thin. I resisted the urge to devour her in the limousine and on Air Force One. Now that we were alone, I struggled to remain in control. I wanted my wife.
“Yes, Jameson.” She nodded in understanding.
I led Georgie up the winding staircase, where we disappeared behind the bedroom doors.