“Dammit.”

I’m leaning over the dressing table in our bedroom, trying to fit the butterfly part to the earring, but I’m shaking slightly. It’s the rush and emotions.

“It’s not considerate to look more beautiful than the bride,” a deep voice says from the door.

I catch Brian’s profile in the mirror. He’s leaning in the frame, looking ravishing in beige slacks and an open-collar linen shirt. I take a moment to appreciate him. He’s more muscular than when he was younger, thanks to the DIY he does in Panties and the house he’s practically building with his own hands on our new property, a quaint stretch of land next to the river. He still has the advertising exec in him, enough so his company is thriving. Clients fly from Windhoek and Cape Town for a chunk of his genius. It wasn’t always easy. In the beginning, he travelled a lot. Since he employed a manager at his franchise company in Johannesburg, we get to see each other every day. We go to bed together and wake up together, and still it never seems enough. I can never get my fill.

He pushes away from the frame and closes the distance. “Let me.”

Taking the obstinate earring from my hand, he fits it effortlessly. His hands slip down my sides over the apricot-colored silk of my dress to find purchase on my hips.

There’s admiration in his voice as he tilts our foreheads together. “God, you’re beautiful. This dress…” His gaze moves over me. “I’m not sure I can let you out wearing this. I can see your nipples.”

I lean against him, ridiculously happy. “Where’s your sense of voyeurism now?”

“Do you have a jacket?”

It’s scorching hot outside. Is he joking? No, there’s no mocking light in his eyes.

“The dress was Abby’s choice. Come on, we’re going to be late.” I bend down to fit my shoes, but he holds me back.

“You know I love you, Jane Logan, don’t you?”

I melt as I always do for him. “I know.”

“Tell me.”

“I love you, too.”

“That’s better.”

He kisses me and goes down on one knee, fitting first one and then the other shoe. His palm lingers on my calf under the long skirt of the dress. The way he stares up at me tells me everything I need to know. We’ve had our share of darkness, Brian and I, but it only brought out our light. He straightens slowly, dragging his hand up to the underside of my knee, the back of my thigh, and finally my buttocks. His gaze never leaves mine as he straightens the skirt and pulls the thin strap of the top back onto my shoulder.

Hand in hand, we make our way downstairs. The tables are set up on the lawn of Panties, overlooking the river. I want to have a last look to make sure everything is perfect. Jasmine and Sam are putting the finishing touches to the flowers. They did a great job with bouquets of wild flowers. Their dresses match mine in color. Only the styles are different.

“This looks beautiful,” I say. “Thank you, Jasmine.”

“It was mostly Sam.”

Sam punches Brian on the arm. “Where’s your tie?”

He grunts. “Abby said casual.”

My God, I still can’t believe it. My baby girl is getting married. “I’m going to check on the food.”

Brian grabs my wrist. “It’ll be fine.”

“I just–”

“Everything will be delicious. Checking on the caviar mousse one more time isn’t going to make it set faster.”

I let out a shaky breath. He’s right. Anyway, the guests are arriving. Daisy is already showing them to the chairs arranged in front of the garden gazebo where the exchange of the vows will take place. Francois and Debbie arrive with their three kids in tow. She’s seven months pregnant with their fourth. We make our way over the lawn to greet them.

“How are you holding up with the heat?” I ask Debbie.

“Oh, God.” She rolls her eyes. “You don’t want to know.”

“Is the guesthouse comfortable enough?”

“It’s great,” Francois says.

“Maybe you should draw the line at four,” Jasmine teases.

“She looks so damn pretty when she’s expecting,” Francois says, “I can’t help wanting to keep her in a permanent state of pregnancy.”

Debbie swats his arm. “I swear to God, this is the last baby you put in me.”

“Famous last words,” Sam says on a chuckle.

I look at Francois. “Ready? She’s waiting for you inside.”

We all glance to where the groom is standing near the gazebo.

“Poor Henry.” Sam snickers. “He’s as nervous as I’ve ever seen him.”

Dorothy comes rushing up, her heels sinking into the lawn. She holds a stylish Queen Elizabeth hat on her head with one hand. “Oh, my gosh. Am I late?”

“Just in time.” Brian offers Dorothy and me his arms. “Shall we take our seats?”

We install ourselves while Francois goes inside to wait with his daughter before walking her down the aisle.

Brian puts a hand on my knee, his fingers toying with the silk. “I have a surprise for you,” he whispers in my ear.

I glance at him. “For me? Why? What’s the occasion?”

“Your birthday.”

My birthday isn’t until another two months. My fingers involuntarily move to the scar on my cheek. I proposed to have plastic surgery to make the ugly mark less unsightly, more as a gift to Brian than to myself.

Brian catches my fingers. “Don’t.” He kisses my fingertips and then the scar. “I own this. You said you didn’t mind it. Does it bother you?”

“No. I was thinking more of you.”

“I love every part of you. You don’t need plastic surgery to make you more beautiful to me. What I love the most, plastic surgery can’t alter.”

What have I done to deserve this beautiful man? “If it’s not that then what’s your surprise?”

He smiles down at me. “I’m taking you to Rome.”

My breath catches. “You are?”

“Just you and me. In June, when it’s summer in Italy. One whole month.”

“Brian…” I swallow away a sudden bout of emotion. “A month! I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll come with me.”

“What about Panties and your job?”

“That’s why I have a manager. Daisy runs this place just as well as you do, and Sam already agreed to help out during her varsity holiday.”

My soul expands at his consideration. “You thought of everything, haven’t you?”

“Is that a yes? Will you come with me?”

“Of course, I will.”

“Good. That means I don’t have to put my kidnapping back-up plan into action.”

My body takes notice. “Hold on. You were going to kidnap me to Rome?”

“Blindfolded, bound, and naked,” he says on a dark whisper, “in a chartered plane. I was going to have my way with you many times over. It’s a long flight.”

My abdomen clenches, and my love spills over. “In that case, I’ll have to decline.”

His lips curve into the most wicked of smiles, exposing his sexy-as-sin dimple. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

The notes of the wedding song fill the air. Abby steps from the veranda door, arm in arm with Francois. She’s the radiant bride I wished upon her. She’s everything I ever wanted for her–happy and in love. As the music rises like a cloud to the sky and tears of joy build in my eyes, Brian takes my hand in his. Our fingers interlock. I can argue that he’s too young or I’m too old, but love knows no boundaries or age. I prefer to say he’s as old as he should be, and I’m enough.