A modern take on a traditional.
A dress her mama and sister and Emily had basically demanded was the one when she’d been concerned it was too much even when her heart was screaming yes.
She’d thought to go for practical when in reality none of this was practical at all.
Marrying a man she’d known for all of six months.
A man who’d shown her what that old adage of being swept off your feet really meant.
Head over heels, only she’d been tumbling heart over feet since the second they’d met.
A man who was destined to be great.
To be famous.
A superstar.
A man who’d spent half their relationship on the road.
And she was getting ready to walk down the aisle to meet him.
No.
She wasn’t scared.
She was itching to run down it to get there faster.
Her daddy lifted her chin. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? I can’t believe my baby girl is taking the hand of a man.”
Soft affection played through her spirit. “Yes, Daddy. I’m ready. I’ve never been so ready for anything in my life. The question is, are you?”
He chuckled a gentle sound. “Never,” he teased, then sobered, “but I am happy. So happy to see the way my daughter glows. The love shines in your eyes.”
Violet nodded at him, and the music shifted, and Violet knew it was her time.
That her life was getting ready to change forever.
Her daddy extended his elbow, and she looped her arm through his, and he began to lead her up the path covered in a dozen different petals of flowers.
Each from their farm.
A token of wishes in each.
They came to the hilltop where the massive tree came into view. Branches stretched out wide with the sun just dipping down enough to touch the top. Lanterns hung from the lowest limbs, and long pieces of chiffon were draped from them as well, billowing down to touch the earth.
A few rows of chairs sat in front of that awe-inspiring tree.
Her bridesmaids and the groomsmen stood there to welcome them.
But it was the man waiting at the end of the aisle that stole her breath.
Bronze hair whipping in the wind, that face hewn in sharp angles and lines, sage eyes intense and spearing her from across the space.
Energy billowed. Curling around her like a warm embrace.
Home.
Her daddy leaned in and whispered in her ear, “And it shines in his, too.”
* * *
Night had descended. Lanterns glowed and strings of light twinkled in the trees and in the shrubs that surrounded the lush, gorgeous setting.
Round tables and a makeshift dance floor had been set up under that gorgeous tree, and another band Carolina George was friends with was playing for the reception.
Richard wrapped his arms around her and exhaled his potent aura into her hair. “I can’t believe you’re my wife. My Violet. My inspiration. My world.”
She could feel the contentment and excitement burning through his blood. The outright awe in his touch.
Her heart ran manic, flooded with an amount of joy she didn’t know existed. She grinned up at him. “Believe it. You’re mine now. Husband.”
Richard grumbled a needy groan. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good…because you’re going to hear it for all my life.”
He brushed back a piece of her hair, gazing down at her with adoration. “And then forever after it.”
Joy burst, and he tightened the arm he had around her waist and tucked her closer to his side where they stood beneath their tree with both sets of their parents flanking them on each side.
Where he’d proposed two months before. When he’d taken a red eye from Los Angeles on a one-day break and confessed that he couldn’t live without her permanently in his life.
Their guests were scattered throughout the tables, having just finished their meals, while the rest of the wedding party had risen from their table and moved over to the tiered cake covered in bright edible flowers.
Emily, Melanie, and Violet’s sister, Liliana, had stood up as bridesmaids. Richard’s groomsmen were his brother Lincoln, Rhys, and Shawn, the band’s drummer.
They’d kept it simple. Only the few people closest to them.
Violet thought it looked like a perfect picture plucked out of a magazine.
A picture that would forever be emblazoned in her mind.
Rhys clicked a knife on the side of his champagne flute to get everyone’s attention. “Now, now, now, I’ve got somethin’ to say. A toast is in order before we get to the dancin’.”
“Oh, this is bound to be good.” With a light chuckle, Richard tossed out the razz and curled his arm a little tighter around Violet’s waist.
Melanie groaned from where she was standing to the right of Rhys. “Make it snappy, cowboy! You are not the star of this rodeo.”
“Cowboy? Bite your tongue woman. I’m a stallion. The. Best. Man. Pretty sure everyone knows who’s the star around here.”
When Rhys claimed it, Lincoln gave him a playful shove on the shoulder. “Uh, excuse me, dude. Check yourself. I’m pretty sure I am the best man.”
Violet giggled.
Only Rhys would try to usurp the position.
“Semantics,” Rhys said with a grin. “We all know who Richey-Poo here really loves best.”
He lifted his glass higher in the direction where Violet and Richard stood, a smug, affable grin playing all over his face.
A ripple of laughter blew through. The mood light. Joy in the air.
“Just hurry it up, man, we know the way you do,” Shawn goaded, taking a drink of his beer.
Shawn was the one Violet knew least. The one member the rest of them hadn’t grown up with, but he’d become close friends with them once he’d joined the band. He was the one her sister had a mad crush on. Had gone home with the same night as Violet had gone home with Richard, though Violet was worried that was where their connection ended.
Shawn was not into her the same way.
Treating her with an air of indifference except for the times when he was in town and texted her
