The Baddest Bad Boy

Caitlin gives me a side hug, looking at our reflections. “Can you believe that in just a little bit, the two of us will be sisters for real?”

“You always said you were sisters anyway,” my mom quips, overhearing. “It’s about time you made it official.”

I giggle.

“That’s true. Still, I never would have expected we’d be marrying brothers! This is so crazy!”

We all laugh because it seems our dreams have come true. Caitlin is married to Travis, and they have two kids now, Peony and Pressley, who are the cutest little buttons. Meanwhile, Troy and I are getting married today, although we did things a bit out of order. Our daughter, Melody, is already one and she’s the apple of her daddy’s eye. She’s got black hair and blue eyes, just like him, not to mention his smile and the same dimple in the corner of her cheek when she laughs.

“I’m just glad you waited two years to get married,” my best friend quips. “It gave me enough time to lose the baby weight so that I can be a svelte Matron of Honor in your wedding photos!”

I laugh because Caitlin looks beautiful, as always. Her brown curly hair is swept up, and she’s wearing a deep maroon gown that shows off her figure. Yes, she’s put on some weight because of her pregnancies, but so have I. Besides, our husbands tell us that our curves make us more desirable, and I feel sexy knowing that Troy loves me because of my sassy shape.

Meanwhile, Mom fusses with my veil, humming a bit.

“You look stunning, darling.”

I smile happily. “Well, I had an amazing designer who runs a fashion house called Get Pressed!”

We all laugh.

“Maybe I should consider getting into bridal,” Caitlin muses, studying the fit of my gown. “You do look gorgeous, and I’m going to use some of your photos on my site. I’ll get so many inquiries when people see how beautiful you look, Cams.”

I’m just about to reply when there’s a knock on the door and the wedding planner pokes her head inside.

“Ready to go? The organ’s just about to start.”

I turn, my heart in my chest. It’s really happening. It’s my big day. I’m getting married to the man of my dreams, and I couldn’t be happier. We step outside as a group, and my dad’s waiting, looking handsome in his baggy black tux. Leo extends his elbow to me.

“Ready honey? You look beautiful.”

I take a deep breath and smile behind my veil.

“I’m ready, Daddy. Thank you for everything, by the way.”

My father is starting to look teary himself.

“I wouldn’t trade places with anyone in the world right now. You’re my daughter, and I’m so proud of you.”

With that, the music swells and we step into the church. My heart’s in my throat because everyone turns to me, their eyes expectant with anticipation. There’s my Aunt Maude and Uncle Henry. There are our neighbors, the Collinses, as well as my brothers in the front row. But who is the man in the back, near the left? Oh, he must be Troy’s friend, Marcus. Just like my husband, Marcus has black hair and blue eyes, and he’s devastatingly handsome in a dark grey suit which highlights those broad shoulders. A few ladies are already eyeing him hungrily, and I giggle inside. Well, a wedding is a great place to meet people, that’s for sure.

But then, my attention is seized by the man standing at the altar because Troy is absolutely gorgeous with his bronzed skin and black hair. Even from here, I can see the piercing blue of his eyes, and my heart contracts. He looks dashing in a tux that fits him perfectly, and I melt, knowing that he belongs to me.

The ceremony is small and simple, but that’s how we wanted it. It’s intimate, with vows that we wrote ourselves, and by the end, everyone in the church is sniffling. But it feels right because Troy and I are committed, and it’s evident from the way he looks at me, the way he touches me, and from the daughter who’s already been born of our love. What he doesn’t realize is that I’m already pregnant again, and soon he’ll be a daddy for the second time in about eight months or so.

After the ceremony ends, I smile at my handsome husband through the veil, and then he lifts the filmy material and captures my lips as the crowd bursts into cheers and applause.

“I love you, Cameron Simpson,” he whispers against my lips. “Always, sweetheart.”

I smile back at him, my heart in my eyes.

“Always, Mr. Simpson. I’m yours.”

And with that, our story has just begun.

* * *

THE END