that sets my soul on fire.
I manage to say, “You look absolutely beautiful.”
Her glossy eyes look at me and then she, too, trails her eyes up and down my body. “You look amazing and I love your shoes,” she says with a wink
Then Garrett clears his throat and we both laugh. As I start to tell her how much I love her, she raises her hand and touches her index finger to my lips and mouths, “Shh.”
I kiss her finger and then grab her hand, moving to stand beside her. With our fingers laced together we walk the rest of the way down the aisle.
The ceremony is short. Our vows are a mixture of traditional lines mixed with our own words. Dahlia is surprised when it’s time for the ring exchange and I actually have matching wedding bands.
“Where did you get them?” she whispers, a look of utter happiness on her face.
I whisper that I got them on the day we were supposed to first get married. Tears roll down her cheeks and when I show her the inscription on the inside of hers, her hand flies to her mouth. I’ll take the happy tears over the sad tears any day. I kiss them away, knowing my life was never really complete until I met her.
Looking into her eyes, they tell me everything I need to know as I slide the ring on her finger and say the words that now touch her skin—“I love you more.”
The mood quickly changes from deeply emotional to hysterically funny when Garrett asks, “If anyone here knows why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.” I can only assume he printed an old-fashioned copy of a wedding ceremony script off the Internet. He looks around in question and then shakes his head, muttering something I can’t make out. Then taking a deep breath, it’s finally time. I look into her shining eyes as she says, “I do,” and I say the same.
When Garrett announces us as husband and wife, she’s finally mine and I get to kiss her for the first time as my wife. I wipe her tears, and while everyone claps, I take her face in my hands. I study her, moving my fingertips gently over her soft lips, etching every detail of how beautiful she looks today into my mind. But I know I don’t have to because her beauty is permanently etched into my soul.
So with the sun setting in the West, I kiss her. I pour all my love into this single, most important kiss—the kiss that ties us together forever. I brush my lips against hers, smelling the scent of the wildflowers all around us, and move my hands to pull her closer to me. Her back is bare and I find the soft spot in the middle and press my palms against it. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back with the exact same intensity. When Garrett clears his throat for the third time, we break away, both breathless. I lean my forehead against hers.
“We did it,” I whisper.
“We did it!” she smiles and I pick her up and swing her around as she giggles. God, I love that sound.
We spend the next hour taking pictures around the grounds. When we return to the observation deck, other guests have arrived and Nix and Garrett start popping champagne corks. Glasses are being filled and once served, Xander surprises me by clinking his glass with a spoon and making a toast.
Holding his glass up and looking at both of us he says, “If any two people in the world deserve happiness, it’s you two. The love you have for each other is something I can only hope I will experience a small piece of one day. To my brother, I want you to know that I admire you for always going after what you want, and although I may not always show it, I really do love you. And to my new sister-in-law, it wasn’t long ago that you said to me you’d keep hoping and wishing for the day I’d say I love you. Well, that day came a long time ago; I just didn’t tell you so I’m telling you now. Muse, thank you for making my brother so happy. I love you.”
We all clink our glasses and my eyes lock on Xander’s, silently thanking him. He’s with a date. Her name is Amy and he’s dated her off and on for years but I know he doesn’t love her. I hope he’s lucky enough to find a girl like mine someday—because he deserves this kind of love. I know he had it once.
Looking around at the rest of my family, I don’t see a dry eye among them. Looking sophisticated in her party dress, Bell comes over with mom and I motion Xander to join us. Jack follows and as we clink our glasses again my mom says, “To our family . . . may it grow and change, but never break apart.”
“My turn, my turn,” Bell insists and she makes the next toast. “To River and Dahlia, I love you both. And thank you so much for letting me plan your dream wedding with less than a day’s notice. No, but really, thank you— it did get me a full-time job with Tate Wyatt . . . my new boyfriend, and an assistant to boot,” she says, pointing over to a girl I hadn’t noticed directing some waiters where to put their trays of food. Raising our glasses, we laugh and congratulate her on her new job and her new boyfriend. The music starts to play and the family moment is broken. But I’m so appreciative of how easily Dahlia was welcomed by all of them and so thankful to have them. I watch Xander head back over to Amy and think how funny it is that he admires me. He was the strong one, the one who took the road that was right for him from the start, not the road that our father wanted him to take.
Looking around, Zane approaches Aerie and she seems to be asking him to do something with the cake because he picks it up and moves it. But she doesn’t seem to be happy with its location—she’s shaking her head no and pointing to a different table. Zane, looking fed up, picks it back up and sets it down where it was to begin with—who knows what’s going on? Even the cake itself makes me laugh because it has big purple flowers all over it—thanks to my sister still insisting that dahlias only come in the color purple.
With the party in full swing, I can finally get Dahlia alone. I pull her aside and lead her down the stairs. Most people come to the Griffith Park Observatory to look up at the stars and planets and to gaze at the picture-perfect view of the Hollywood sign. But tonight I only have eyes for my wife, my soul mate.
When we get to the bottom of the stairs, I open the door and lead her to the large white fountain in front of the building. Looking into her eyes and then at the fountain, I reach into my pocket and pull out two pennies.
Handing one to my wife, I grin before asking her, “Do you remember the rules?”
In her cute Southern accent she says, “You know what, kind sir, I think I do but maybe you’d better remind me.”
“I’d be happy to.” First, we both turn around. Then, on the count of three, we both throw the coins over our shoulders into the fountain while making a wish.
She pulls me closer to her and says, “You look so adorable when you explain your rules, I just wanted to watch you explain them again.”
I shake my head. “Again, adorable isn’t what I’m going for.”
She pulls me to her and drags her tongue along the inside of my lower lip. “Adorable turns me on.”
“Adorable works, then,” I groan and just then the sky opens up and it starts to rain.
“Come on, let’s do this before the rain really starts to come down.”
Quickly, we both turn around and holding my fingers up, I say, “One, two, three,” and then yell, “Go,” and we toss our coins over our shoulders and into the fountain.
I grab her hand. “Let’s make a run for it.”
But she lets my hand go and bends down to take her shoes off.
“Dahlia, what are you doing? You’re going to get soaked.”
“Taking my shoes off.”
“I can see that. Why?” But I already know why. God, I fucking love her.
“Because, silly, I want to jump in the puddles,” I say, right along with her. I clearly remember the day I watched her do this very same thing and just as I did then, I watch her with amazement and wonder.
And as the raindrops turn into tiny wishing wells gathering all around her, the same overwhelming urge to grant this girl her every wish doesn’t terrify me anymore. I now know the connection we share can never be broken—I know without a doubt that I will be her happily ever after.
After she jumps from puddle to puddle, she closes her eyes and raises her arms out to the side. She tips her head back and spins in circles as I join her. When I hear the band cue up the song I selected for our dance, I draw her in close to me and rest my fingers on her hips. Taking her face in my hands, I kiss her hard. She wraps her arms around my neck and I feel lost in her, lost in her touch, her soul, her love. But it’s not a kind of lost where you want to be found.
Slowing down, I never break our kiss as I concentrate on making sure it conveys how much I truly love her. When she starts to quiver I lean back and just stare at her—she’s everything I have ever wanted, everything I need. Pulling her body close enough to mine so that our hips are cradled together, I start swaying to the music and ask, “Beautiful girl, will you dance with me?”
She smiles at me, nodding her head. Looking at her now, I know I will always give her a reason to smile. She deserves that. As the song “Waiting for a Girl Like You” starts to play, we surround each other. We rock back and
