A Bad Boy is Good to Find(72)
“I enjoy a challenge.” Con flashed a dark glance at her. “As you know.” She shrieked as he slid his arm under her thighs and hoisted her into the air.
The sun was high in the sky by the time everything was ready for the ceremony next to the glittering bayou. Lizzie’s gown had been let out enough to allow deep breaths, which was lucky as she needed them to steady her nerves. Her feet had protested the pointy-toed shoes so vigorously that she’d decided to go barefoot, and the grass felt cool and crisp under her relieved feet. Her heavy, pearl-encrusted skirt trailed behind as she strolled down the lawn toward the bayou like a splendid faery queen.
Con, dressed in a trim black Valentino suit, looked excited, cheerful and breathtakingly handsome. He grabbed Maisie’s arm as she whisked past with her clipboard.
“Are you sure it’ll be legal? I want it to be really legal.”
“Conroy.” Maisie clucked her tongue and tossed her freshly blow-dried hair. “Do I ever do anything by halves? Of course it’s legal. We had all the permits in place before we even flew down here. Now, if you want it to be recognized by the Catholic Church, we could use the priest I suggested, but Raoul’s certificate from the Universal Life Church is every bit as good as far as the law is concerned and Lizzie keeps insisting—”
“We definitely want Raoul,” cut in Lizzie.
“My ears are ringing!” called Raoul, striding down the lawn, looking only slightly more elegant than Con in a double-breasted white suit with a matching cravat. “Are you ready for the sacred event, my children?”
“Yes,” said Con and Lizzie at once.
“You’ll be my third wedding. My first between a man and a woman.” He beamed proudly. “What are we waiting for?”
“Dino, are we ready?” yelled Maisie. Dino had a bank of equipment set up under a canopy. Tripod-mounted cameras ringed the white arbor set up for the ceremony. The arbor itself was festooned with a bright mix of flowers Gia had hastily bought from every florist within a twenty-mile radius. The resulting riot of color fit the occasion far better than Sven’s minimalist roses. In the background the bayou sparkled lazily under a bright blue sky.
“Danny!” yelled Maisie, making Lizzie jump.
“Yes, sugar?”
She startled again as Danny materialized a few feet away, sprawled on the ground in a shady copse of trees.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were right there.” Maisie flushed. Lizzie didn’t think Maisie had ever blushed—or shown emotion of any sort—before Danny turned up. Life was full of strange surprises.
Danny winked. Even in his rented gray suit he looked dangerously disreputable. A fun relative to have around. “I’ve got the rings.” He patted his pocket. “How’s my best woman?”
Maisie turned even redder and Lizzie couldn’t help smiling. Danny was Con’s best man, and Maisie was giving Lizzie away. Danny had decided that made her best woman.
Maisie glanced back at the house then hissed. “Let’s get this show on the road before those vultures from Eyewitness News swoop in and try to steal our thunder.”
Con had a big dumbass smile on his face that wouldn’t subside and he didn’t care. Lizzie glowed like a princess, and the sight of her in her wedding gown, with pearls in her glorious hair and bright roses in her cheeks, made his heart jump. He was torn between wanting to enjoy every single second of the ceremony and wanting to get her alone and take her lovingly apart, pearl by pearl.
In his capacity as officiant, Raoul had immediately nixed Maisie’s impressive but stodgy program of events. As the oldest member of the group and the one who’d attended the most weddings, he insisted he would put together the perfect wedding for Con and Lizzie, and at one a.m. that morning no one had the energy to argue with him. By breakfast he had a printed program of music, readings and vows compiled off the Internet that made Lizzie bawl.
Con wasn’t too crazy about anything that made his sweetheart cry, but Lizzie had insisted they keep it exactly as is, and he wasn’t going to argue. He took up his place at the bottom of the steps leading up to the arbor, under the watchful eye of a very serious Raoul.
The music started. Maisie’s planned string quartet had been replaced with a local Dixieland jazz band, who struck up a slow rendition of Louis Armstrong’s “Wonderful World.” There was no arguing with the skies of blue in Con’s mind as he turned and saw his lovely Lizzie walking up the flower-edged aisle on the arm of her cousin.
Their eyes met, hers sparkling. She bit her lip and he hoped she wasn’t going to cry. But if she did, hey, no problem. They were happy tears, right?
When she reached him he took her hand. She squeezed his palm, and he squeezed back as they climbed the two steps to the arbor together and stood facing each other, holding hands as Raoul had instructed.
Raoul himself radiated pomp and ceremony, and quite possibly divine majesty as well. “My name is Raoul Johnston, and I have the privilege of performing this ceremony today for Lizzie Hathaway and Conroy Beale. We’re here to celebrate the love they have found in each other and to witness and proclaim the joining together of these two persons in marriage.
His voice resonated across the lawn, each word ringing with dignity and sincerity. “This is the union of two individuals in heart, body, mind and spirit and is not to be entered into lightly, but reverently, honestly and deliberately.”
Con whispered “Amen!” He’d be eternally grateful they hadn’t gotten married just for show. He couldn’t have forgiven himself for that.
The first reading was from some children’s book and it had made Lizzie go completely to pieces during the rehearsal, so he held her hand tight as Maisie started to read it in her clear, ringing voice.
“‘The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams.
‘What is REAL?’ asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. ‘Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’
‘Real isn't how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but Really loves you, then you become Real.’
‘Does it hurt?’ asked the Rabbit.
‘Sometimes,’ said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. ‘When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.’
‘Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,’ he asked, ‘or bit by bit?’
‘It doesn't happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get all loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.’”
Lizzie’s breathing got a little erratic in the middle there, so he chafed her hand with his thumb, feeling kind of panicky and raw and very very real.