strung overhead, beautiful centerpieces on the tables in the tent.
In my white sundress and flower crown, the day couldn’t be more perfect. Valerie’s in a soft pink dress and she hands me my bouquet. “You make a beautiful bride,” she says and I am so glad to share this day with her.
Grady and I considered running away and getting married, but in the end, we decided we cantaloupe.
“I’m so glad you’re here with me,” I say, squeezing Val’s hand. “You’re the best friend in the world.”
She smiles. “Well, I won’t argue with that.”
“I love you,” I say. “For being here for me through thick and thin.”
“Just promise that when your go through the next thin phase, you’ll let me know what is going on. So I can be there for you.”
I nod, blinking back tears. “I promise.”
“No crying on my watch,” she says. “Now get out there and marry the man of your dreams.”
I pull her in for one last hug and then walk down the aisle toward Grady. The only man I’ve ever loved.
He spins me around the dance floor, his strong arms wrapped around me, and all our friends and family are here supporting us. “You are such a beautiful bride,” he says, his breath hot on my ear.
“Don’t whisper too many sweet nothings or I’ll have to drag you off this dance floor.”
He chuckles. “Guess I’ll start talking dirty and see what happens.”
“First we have to cut the cake,” I say as the song ends. He takes my hand and we walk to the cake that our friend Jessa designed. She said it was the most challenging cake she’s ever made.
It’s three tiers, but instead of fluffy cake, it’s red watermelon slices stacked one on top of another. The dessert is covered in whipped cream and fresh blueberries, kiwis and peaches.
Grady slices it and I shake my head, laughing. “Don’t you dare shove that in my mouth!”
Instead of making a mess, we offer one another bites as our guests cheer and the photographer snaps photos. Red juice slides down Grady’s chin and I lean in, kissing him.
Already thinking about doing so much more.
By the end of the day, we’ve danced, eaten, posed for hundreds of photos, and smiled our butts off.
But I’m not tired. I’m ready for our wedding night.
“I’m still surprised you didn’t want to rent a honeymoon suite at a hotel downtown,” Grady says after the last guest has said goodbye, leaving us alone in his garden. Well, our garden now. I moved into his house a week ago.
“I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t need fancy. I just want real. I want us. And besides, I like our bedroom.”
After we got engaged, Grady took me to his house and I saw firsthand that the perfect man I was marrying had a dirty secret of his own. He didn’t make his bed and had plenty of clothes littering his floor. It was refreshing, to say the least. And my ideal man just became that much sexier.
And we made a plan. We decided to hire a housecleaner to come once a week and help us keep the place a bit tidier.
So now, as Grady lifts me into his arms and carries me upstairs to our room, I know the bed has been freshly made. But as he carries me over the threshold, I don’t expect to see our bedroom turned into a fairytale.
Candles are everywhere, lit and washing the room in a soft glow. There is a new bed in the middle of the room with a white canopy, and a trail of rose petals lead us.
“It looks made for a princess.”
“It has been,” Grady says. “It was made for you.”
I blink back tears, the love I have for him spilling down my cheeks.
“I didn’t plan on making you cry, baby,” he says, wrapping me in his arms.
“They are happy tears. You love me despite my flaws. You love me as I am. And you make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.”
“No one is perfect, Georgie. But you are perfect for me.”
I strip my husband of his clothes, and he unbuttons me from my delicate dress. Naked, together, we climb into bed. My heart flutters with love as he moves on top of me, spreading my knees and making me whimper with desire.
“I love you, Grady,” I whisper as his thickness begins to fill me. I close my eyes. My dreams have all come true. I made plenty of mistakes along the