Page 74 of Flynn

The brilliance of the budding flowers—gardenias, roses, daffodils, delicate orchids, wild daisies, and buttercups—was perfect for the lush greenness of the trees, lending their shades to the invited guests. A red carpet had been placed squarely in the middle of the white lawn chairs, and every seat was occupied.

Standing at the front, with his hands folded, Flynn showed no outward signs of inner turmoil. He wasn’t afraid that his bride would not show; he was anxious to get the ceremony over and done with.

The ultrasound confirmed they had a son, and Ryleigh was already picking out colors and discussing them with his mother. He was getting married, and they were having a son. He was cautiously happy, even though he felt like he would burst from it.

The music changed suddenly, alerting them to the bride's arrival. He found himself holding his breath as he trained his eyes to where she would be coming from. The guests stood, turning sideways for their first glimpse of the bride.

His breath whooshed out as he stared at the vision gliding towards him. The dress was not white but a delicate blend of lime green and champagne.

The style was deceptively simple, with the bodice hugging her full breasts and flaring at the waist to cover her ‘baby bump.’ The skirt drifted from the waist to a little above her knees. She was wearing heels to add height to her petite frame. Her hair was loose around her face, and she wasn’t wearing a veil or anything else on her head.

Diamonds sparkle at her lobes, around her neck, and on her right wrist. And she was smiling at him. The tension eased out of him, and he barely had the patience to wait for her to join him. Giving her mother a faint smile, he squeezed his bride’s hand gently. She was his.

*****

Several tables had been set up on the lawn, and the weather held. The guests were seated, and after taking dozens of photos to memorialize the ceremony, the bride and groom were seated at the head table enjoying the sumptuous meal.

Keeping a watchful eye on his wife- Flynn felt something shifting inside him as an unfamiliar word. ‘His wife.’ Ryleigh was now Mrs. Flynn Zimmermann.

She was entirely his. They had pledged their love and loyalty to each other in front of God and over a hundred people. Their lives were sealed together, the bond complete. For a few minutes, the emotions veering crazily through his body threatened to overwhelm him.

“Flynn?” As if sensing what he was going through, Ryleigh tugged at the hand covering hers.

“Yes?” He had to clear his throat to answer.

“Are you okay?”

“No.” Leaning towards her, he murmured something in her ear that had her breath backing up inside her chest. Before she could utter a word, they had to cut the cake.

Rising, he slid back her chair and guided her towards the table, where a towering work of art was placed in the middle. The pink champagne cake, with flowers decorated at the sides, had been created by a local bakery especially for the bride.

They fed each other and sipped a little champagne before it was time for him to speak.

“I met this wonderful woman at a particular time when I thought there was nothing for me but work.” He glanced at her, his smile tender and whimsical. He was holding her hand, and it was the most natural thing he could do. He needed physical intimacy to remind him that they now belonged to each other.

“Suffice it to say that it did not take long for her and me to form an attachment, but it was not that simple. Attachment is too tame a word for what we mean to each other.

For what she means to me.” His hand tightened on hers. “I spent years building a business that took my time and effort. It was the most important thing to me until you.” Tugging her hand gently, he waited until she was standing facing him.

“I love you,” he told her softly, eyes mirroring his emotions. “Even that is too tame a word for how I feel. I made vows to you, ones I intend to keep for as long as I draw breath.” Pulling her into his arms, he belatedly realized he had not thanked their guests for coming. When he addressed that, the laughter and applause were thunderous.

*****

“You are at it again.” Flynn approached the soft white recliner she was sitting on with several fabrics strewn over her lap. They had been married for a month, but it felt like it was just yesterday.

She was seven months pregnant and spent most of her time attending the nursery. Dr. Whyte had warned that the baby could come at any minute, and they should be prepared. Thankfully, no more episodes required her to stay in bed.

“What do you think?” Holding up the swatch of material, she waited for him to answer.

“I think we should go for a swim.” Removing the fabrics away, he dumped them on the table next to the chair and lifted her into his arms.

“Flynn, I am not finished.” She protested.

“I am afraid you are.” He kissed her noisily as he strode from the room. “Mother told me you have been harassing the poor decorator.”

Wrapping her hands around his neck, she gave him a wry look. “That’s because she will not follow instructions.”

“You have changed your mind five times already.” he bounded down the stairs with her securely held against him. They passed several staff members on their way out and were greeted with smiles. The ever-vigilant Greaves was there to sweep the doors open with a bow.