The Summer of Us (Mission Cove 1)

I hadn’t seen her since yesterday. She insisted it was romantic and would add to our wedding night. As it was, I hadn’t been able to do much more than sneak in a kiss or two since her sisters arrived. They were staying in her apartment, so I went back next door to Abby’s. Sunny and I barely had a moment alone and I was slowly going crazy. When she reminded me of the tradition yesterday morning when I went to get my coffee, I wasn’t pleased. It seemed silly since we’d basically lived together for weeks, but the pleading look on her face forced me to smile and agree.

I kissed her and returned to my office. Abby worked for a while, then announced she was going back to the bakery. I tried not to be jealous of the fact that Abby still got to see her, but I failed. Sulking, I worked for a while, not looking up when the door opened.

“Forget something, Abby?” I asked.

“Not really.”

I snapped up my head at the sound of Sunny’s voice. “Aren’t we breaking tradition?” I asked, then kicked myself for bringing it up.

“You looked so sad when you left, and I realized you had forgotten when we talked about it a few days before.”

I sighed. “I was probably so busy trying to get you somewhere alone so I could kiss you, I would have agreed to anything.”

“You have me alone now.”

I held out my hand. “Get over here.”

She placed a bag on my desk, and I didn’t have to ask what was inside. It would be biscuits and jam to drown my sorrows in after she left.

But for now, she was here, sliding on my lap, smiling at me.

I took full advantage.

I grinned at the memory, then glanced at my watch. “We should head down, right? The photographer wants some pictures, and I need to be out of the way before Sunny arrives.”

Gerry chuckled. “Anxious, kid?”

“You have no idea.”

He smirked. “I think I do.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “You deserve this. You really do. Now let’s go get some pictures taken and get this show on the road.”

“Hell yes.”The sun was still bright, shining on the rippling water behind me. A light breeze blew, lifting the long tendrils of the weeping willows I stood between as I waited for Sunny. Beside me stood Abby and Gerry. Across the flower-strewn aisle were Emily and Hayley, both dressed in soft green. Cindy sat in the seat of honor—adoptive mother of the groom and bride. She dabbed at her eyes constantly, blinking even harder when I winked at her.

My anxiety was gone. All I felt was the rightness of this moment. Knowing Sunny was close, and soon, we would say the words and she would be mine—to have and hold for as long as we lived.

My breath caught as she appeared, walking toward me. She didn’t rush, and I took a moment to drink her in. Her beautiful hair was swept up, tendrils framing her face and brushing her neck. Her dress was simple—something she’d bought on a day trip into Toronto. Ivory, lacy, and delicate. It floated around her like a feather, and as she grew closer, I had to smile.

There were bows at her shoulders, holding up scallops of lacy froth on her arms. Tiny, elegant bows that beckoned and teased. Exactly what she had planned.

Little minx.

I met her dark gaze, the love and happiness shining in her eyes for all to see. Unable to stop myself, I stepped forward, meeting her partway down the aisle.

She beamed as I held out my hand. “Walk with me, Sunny?”

Her grip was tight. “Always.”

I tucked her hand over my arm, and we finished the walk together.

The perfect start to our life together.A few months laterI woke, my hand instantly reaching out for Sunny. Even after being together and married for months, my first reaction in the morning was to make sure she was real.

This morning, the bed was empty, although the sheets were still warm. I sat up, looking at the clock in the unfamiliar room. It was barely past five, dawn breaking outside the windows.

Sunny stood on the small balcony of our honeymoon suite, staring at the view. I had no idea why she was awake. We arrived yesterday in England and spent the day touring to ward off jet lag. Then as tradition, I spent most of the night making love to her since it was technically the first night of our honeymoon, and that was how it should be.

She should be exhausted and curled up beside me, not outside looking at the view.

Still, I took a moment to appreciate the beautiful view of my own. Wrapped in a sheet, her profile illuminated by the rising sun, she was stunning. Her hair was bright and burnished in the morning light, her creamy skin glowing. My morning wood hardened even more at the sight before me. She grew exponentially more lovely to me every day that passed. I fell more in love with my wife with each new discovery of her sweet nature. Her caring ways, her gentleness, her teasing. She taught me to find joy in the simplest of things; she gave me the gift of peace—something I had never experienced until now.