Epilogue
Six months later
“Do you think anyone would notice if I screwed you on the table?” Zan whispered in his bride’s ear.
“Well, we could try and hide behind the cake, but I don’t fancy our chances.” Daisy beamed at him.
A white strapless dress hugged her body. Her hair was up with long, dark ringlets framing her face.
“I can’t wait until we’re at the resort in Fiji.” He reached under the thick tablecloth and squeezed her thigh. “Got the red bikini?”
“Of course,” she murmured.
After a complicated business transaction that was still in the process, Gillard and Carter had merged boards and most of their hotels. Carter’s would stay the mom-and-pop franchise but was intending to branch out the Levi resorts, opening around the world, including the one they were about to visit in one of Fiji’s outer islands. Gillard would stay the high-end hotels. No staff lost. A perfect compromise.
“Fly Me to The Moon” was playing. Family and friends either danced or chatted at tables. They’d eaten a fantastic meal, drunk champagne, speeches were done, and all Zan could think about was getting alone time with his bride. Their private jet that would take them to Fiji would be leaving soon.
Poppy sat with her plus one. Brayden with his, and all four looked miserable. Rose was dancing with a man and was fully aware of the daggers being thrown her way by Tristan. Daisy’s mom sat with her older sister Tracey. Daisy had cried with joy when her mom came home. Her mom had welcomed Zan with open arms, saying it was time for the families to come together.
“I can’t wait to show you what’s under this dress.” Daisy squeezed his thigh.
“I was kind of hoping you were naked.”
She chuckled. “A lot of Hail Marys for turning up naked at a church, I think, but it’s going to take you hours to undo the pearl buttons on the corset.” She leaned in closer. “I have a surprise for you.”
Getting a boner at your wedding he guessed was acceptable, not ideal when you couldn’t do anything about it.
Yet.
“Or it will take me seconds when I rip the buttons off.” He took a mouthful of Krug, the dry bubbles hitting the back of his throat. The same champagne from the masquerade ball. He’d watched in delight when Daisy took a sip and beamed at him.
“I hope you’re wearing a garter belt. I’ve got a vision of it in my head, and I want to see if it’s as good as the real thing.” He leaned in and kissed her earlobe, which twinkled with matching ruby earrings he’d bought her for the “something new” part of the wedding poem. They matched the necklace at her throat. Her birthstone. “I’m still holding out for our first child to be named Clovis or Clovista.”
She smiled her forever dazzling smile, and his heart hitched that this beautiful woman was his wife, and he got to wake up with her until their faces were roadmaps, their knees arthritic, and see her grow more beautiful each day.
They sat in blissful silence.
“Did you like my gift?”
He smirked at her. He’d loved her gift of a pair of diamond encrusted cuffs and they were already on the plane, along with a maid’s outfit and clothes a mechanic would wear—he couldn’t wait to find out her plans for the mechanic’s clothes. Something about a car stopped by the side of the road.
After she’d tossed the bouquet to a flustered Poppy who’d thrown it to Rose, they’d said their good-byes and were now leaving.
“Let’s go and practice making babies.” He pulled her from her seat. “I want to hear you sighing my name.”
“So bossy.” She swatted his shoulder, stood, and laced her fingers in his.
“You love it.” He guided her toward the back entrance of the reception where they could make a quick escape.
“I do love you,” she said.
“I love you, Mrs. Carter-Gillard.”
They reached the parking lot, and he pulled his phone from his pocket and signaled his driver.
Damn it.
He pulled her behind an empty car and a wall, shielding her with his body.
“Show me what’s under the dress,” he said.
She smiled at him, then proceeded to rock his world by shimmying her dress up to show him a white corset with her breasts spilling out the top. He followed the line of the satin to the curve of her waist and the flare of her hip. His mouth watered at the sheer white stockings clipped to a white lacy garter belt and stilled.
“You said if I didn’t wear underwear to the wedding, I could have something I want. Well, a girl can’t walk up the aisle on her mother’s arm not wearing underwear, so I compromised.”
His eyes locked between her legs. “Captain America underwear.” She pressed into him.
Damn the driver’s timing as two beams of light swung into the lot. He pulled down her dress.
“I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours.” Her eyes sparkled.
He grinned, undid buttons. A tiny nun, tattooed over his heart.
“You have all of me, Clovis,” she said, eyes glossy as she pressed her hand against his heart.
“You are my world, Clovista.”
“Want to see my lady cave?”
“My mammoth does.”
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