Take This Man (4 page)

A photographer marched us around the island for pictures. I already knew my favorites would be the ones of the entire wedding party—friends and family—lined up on the curving staircase in the entryway with the wall murals beside us.

“A toast,” Beck said, holding up a glass as we stood around a table with a small cake made to look like a tree stump with MR + RR inside a heart drawn on its ringed surface like a carving in the wood. Like the initials in the beam above our bed in the tree house, but with my old initials, RD, instead of my new ones, RR. “If I may.”

Beck cleared his throat. “I get the honors here since MJ gets the honors at the reception tonight. Anyway, I know anything I have to say is best said in our small group. Junior can make the polished speech, but I get the real one.”

Merrick groaned beside me. “Keep it clean. Please. I’m begging you.”

“Listen,” Beck said, “I knew Merrick before Rachael and after Rachael. What he said during his vows, man, I can vouch for that. He’s not the man he used to be. He was an asshole back then.”

Everyone burst out in laughter, even Merrick.

“When Rachael suddenly appeared out of nowhere, it was like she was sent to save us all from this guy. You know
Beauty and the Beast
? It was like that. She transformed him from this person me and my crew dreaded working for into the guy who became my best friend. She tore down his defenses and let out the good man inside. She saw right through him, so he couldn’t hide anymore.”

I felt my chest flush and fought back tears. No more tears. I’d shed enough, even if they were happy tears.

Beck lifted his glass. “Rachael, to you. He was right. You made him. Together, you’re an awesome pair. Congratulations.”

Everyone joined in with murmurs of congratulations and clinking of champagne glasses. Merrick and I touched ours together and took a sip. The bubbles shot up my nose and made me cough. The wine was fresh and crisp and fit perfectly with the day.

“Now it’s my turn,” Mom said, pulling a small silver seam ripper from her pocket.

I held up my dress as she knelt and separated the stitching holding Dad’s ring in my skirting. Once freed, she stood and held it up, like Beck had held up his glass to toast us. “Merrick, this ring belonged to my husband and to his father before him. As Rachael’s father, I wish he’d been alive to know you, to give you his blessing today. But you should know that he would give his blessing to you to marry Rachael.”

Mom stepped in front of Merrick and held his hand. “When she left me to come here to you, I didn’t know how to live without her. I hadn’t learned to live without my husband and couldn’t imagine living without Rachael, too. I held her back, and you pulled her away. At the time, I couldn’t imagine coming to terms with that. Standing here today, I want to thank you. You not only gave Rachael the courage to live her own life, you gave the same to me. By forcing her to take what was rightfully hers—a bright, beautiful future—you forced me to do the same. Even though my one true love is gone, I know he wants me to live on without him. He wants me to have a bright, beautiful future, too, full of family, grandchildren on my lap at Christmas, fireworks over this beautiful hotel on the Fourth of July, sitting on the patio watching the two of you grow together in age and your love mature over the years.

“Today this ring was Rachael’s something blue. It’s yours now, son, this ring and my daughter.” Mom wrapped Merrick’s fingers around the ring. “Take care of them both.”

“I will,” he said, and sniffed. “Thank you.” The day had been filled with emotional upheavals for us both. Mom hugged him. He took my hand and pulled me into the hug, too.

“Thank you, Mom,” I said. “I know Dad’s proud of you.” She’d come so far on her own. The guilt I’d felt for leaving her was enormous, but it was gone and she was right—Merrick had unknowingly forced us to live again a year after Dad died.

“Family hug!” Aunt Jan dove into the mix.

“Jan, you’re on my foot,” Mom said, stepping back.

I grabbed my aunt and hugged her hard. “I had no idea you were marrying us. I couldn’t imagine a better ceremony. It was perfect. Thank you so much.”

“I know my girl,” she said. “Nothing too fancy or fussy, just heartfelt.” She kissed my cheek. “I love ya, kid.”

“I know. Love you, too.”

I stepped back from Aunt Jan to find Merrick embracing his sister. “Don’t cry,” he whispered to her. “It’s all over now. We can start new. You’re still my little sister. I’ll take care of you like I always have.”

Merrick liked to say I had an unlimited supply of forgiveness, but it was he who had forgiveness in spades. I knew the family I married into was one built on manipulation and lies, one that had recently been freed of all that deceit with the passing of Merrick’s father. It was a fresh start for them, one I’d encourage and foster as best I could.

“Can we call you Aunt Rachael now?” Sam asked, appearing like a shadow by my side.

“Yes,” I said, ruffling his hair. “I’m officially your aunt now. And my first duty is to get you an enormous piece of this cake. So let’s see if Uncle Merrick is ready to cut it.”

Holly spun around the other side of me and grabbed Merrick’s arm, tugging him away from her mom. “Uncle Merrick! Time to cut the cake!”

“Okay, but Aunt Rachael has to help.”

“Duh,” Holly said, carefully handing him the cake knife. “You both take a slice and feed it to each other. You know that’s how it works, don’t you?”

“I almost forgot,” he said. “Good thing you’re here to make sure we do this right.”

I picked up the cake server as Merrick sliced two pieces and placed them on plates. We each picked one up, took the slice of cake in our hands, and eyed each other. A rush of giddiness ran through my chest and I couldn’t help myself. I smashed the cake right against his mouth, smearing the frosting into his short, stubbly beard. He let out a loud laugh and retaliated by pushing his piece into my face. Icing covered my nose and dotted my forehead. We both stood there laughing like immature little kids, but neither of us cared. It was our day to do with what we liked. Merrick swiped a finger across my nose and stuck it in his mouth. “Mmm, good!”

Mom
tsk
ed, then Holly cut giant pieces for her and Sam, who took their pieces and ran before their mom could tell them they had too much. Shannon grabbed me and kissed my cheek then licked frosting from her lips and handed me a napkin. “He’s right, you are pretty tasty.”

By the time the cake was eaten and the champagne was gone, everyone had found their own peaceful spots to settle in. MJ and Maddie were lounging in the hammock under the pool cloister. Shannon and Riley had gone for a walk—I was sure that wasn’t really what they were doing—and Mom and Aunt Jan sat with Mr. Simcoe and Heidi on the patio while Holly and Sam ran around on a sugar high. Beck and Joan had gone to the boathouse to stash his cello and find their own privacy.

“Tree house?” I asked Merrick, leaning drowsily against his chest.

“Tree house,” he said, taking my hand and leading the way through the trees.

I know I wasn’t the first man to feel the pressure of making love to his wife for the first time and wanting it to be the best ever. I didn’t want it to be kinky or dirty, but I didn’t want it to be too tame either. I knew I’d put way too much thought into this, but how could I not?

After carrying Rachael over the threshold and helping her unbutton the eighty million buttons on the back of her wedding gown, I sat on the side of the bed, my jacket discarded over the chair in the corner, my bow tie undone and hanging around my neck, the buttons of my shirt open. Rachael seemed to take forever in the bathroom, leaving my mind to its own devices.

Really, what my wife deserved was to be ravished. I could do that. I’d done that many times before, but I could outdo myself today.

I darted over to the dresser and opened a few drawers, finally finding the scented lotion she loved. A knock on the tree house door set me on edge. Who had the nerve to interrupt us here—
now?
I ran down the spiral staircase and threw the door open to find nobody there. Just as I was about to slam the door shut, I saw our unity candle sitting at my feet.

Thank God for MJ. I knew it was him.

Back upstairs, I lit the candle and set it on the nightstand. With the shades drawn, the candlelight flickered against the netting draped from the canopy above the bed. I grabbed my tux jacket and pulled off my boutonniere, two dark red roses. I plucked the petals off and sprinkled them across the bed.

Perfect.

The bathroom door creaked open, and I turned to catch the first sight of my new wife’s bare flesh. She wore a white corset, a thong, garters, and a sheer robe over them with her white, beaded heels. Her dark hair hung loose past her shoulders.

I swallowed. My dick went hard as rock. I didn’t know how I could pull off romance when all I could think of was shoving myself as deep inside her as I could get.

Her eyes wandered the room. “Wow. You did this?”

I nodded, speechless.

“It’s perfect.” She took in my face and, noting my strained expression, laughed. “No pressure, my love. We’ve done this many, many times before.”

“Not as husband and wife, though.”

She unbuttoned my shirt the rest of the way and shoved it off my shoulders. Her mouth met mine, her tongue flicked against my tongue, her fingers worked to unfasten my pants. “I just want to be with you,” she whispered. “Nothing fancy or special. Just you and me together. That’s all I want.”

I took control of myself. “That’s not all you’ll get.” I picked her up and laid her in the center of the bed. “First a massage.”

I crawled onto the bed with the lotion and stopped on my knees between her legs, trying to get the cap off. She sat up, grabbed the bottle, and tossed it on the floor. “Massages later. Make love to me, husband.”

Husband.
Jesus, that word. She was mine.
Mine.
And I’d show her just how much. I pushed the sheer robe aside and traced my finger along her pale stomach between the corset and the thong, making goose bumps rise on her skin. I lowered my mouth and ran my tongue over the bumps. Rachael’s fingers wove into my hair and she sighed.

Pushing the thong to the side, I ran my fingers between her legs, parting her wet folds, touching her lightly. She squirmed and arched her back. Once again, my tongue followed my fingers. My wife tasted like sweet nectar. My sweet nectar.

“Don’t,” she said.

“I won’t.” I knew what she meant. She wanted me to take her to the brink, but not past. She wanted to go there with me.

I laved her delicate, sensitive pussy until she was writhing under me, grasping her breasts with her hands. Then I kissed my way up her body, unhooking every snap and button I could find until I had her completely naked. She shoved my pants off, making sure every inch of our skin could touch. I took her breast in my mouth and suckled her nipple as she wrapped her lovely fingers around my cock and began to stroke me.

I took a deep breath and held it in. There was no better sensation than my wife’s hand wrapped around my cock. I popped her nipple out of my mouth and kissed her neck, grabbed her ass, ran my fingers down between her cheeks until I could reach her dripping center and push a finger inside. She rocked against me, wanting, ready. Her leg came up around my hip and she guided me to her opening. As soon as my finger was out, she had the head of my cock inside.

“You feel so good inside me,” she said, thrusting her hips to take me in farther.

I pulled her against me and drove myself inside deep, taking her mouth with mine, sucking and licking her lips. She did the same. We couldn’t get enough. “Not deep enough,” she said, desperate, and pushed me onto my back. “I want my husband buried so deep inside me, I’ll go blind with the sensation.”

I grabbed her arms to slam her down on top of me, but she slipped down instead and my dick came out of her. “First, I want to taste you and me, our joining.”

My wife was a fiend. Here I was thinking roses and massages and she was in the mood for tasting her pussy on my cock. I was the luckiest bastard on the planet.

Her tongue touched my balls and my hips jerked. She ran her slick pink tongue up to the tip, where she pressed her lips against me before taking me in her mouth. This was a wedding night a man’s fantasies were made of.

She soon had me panting. “Rach…”

“I won’t.”

But she didn’t stop. I chuckled, trying to hold back. “You’re going to.”

She popped me out of her mouth and straddled me. “Hearing you panting like that gets me so wet. I can’t hold back either.” She pushed down onto me and whimpered my name. My balls contracted. She rocked and bounced fast, grinding her pelvis against mine. I pinched and plucked her nipples, feeling the sensation of bursting well up in the base of my cock.

“Fuck, Rach.”

She groaned and began to quiver. I put a hand between her legs, rubbed fast and hard, pushing her over the edge. She arched back and cried out, her pussy contracting around my cock as I spurted into her and let out my own loud groan of release.

My wife collapsed on top of me, both of us sticky and sweaty, panting and spent. “I married a saint,” I said, collecting her hair and wrapping it around my hand. “I love you, Mrs. Rocha.”

“I love you, Mr. Rocha,” she said, breathing heavily. She looked up at me. “Thank you for today. It was the best day of my life.”

“It was pretty high on my list, too.” I kissed her forehead. “I have one more surprise for you.”

“What else could you possibly have?”

“My gift.”

She shook her head. “You
are
my gift.”

“No. There’s a rundown farmhouse in France beside a little lake at the back of the property owned by the Renaults. You loved that house when we were there. I saw the fire in your eyes. You were seeing it as it could be, not as it is. It’s yours now, Mrs. Rocha, to renovate as you see fit.”

She sat up on top of me, pressing her palms against my stomach. “Are you kidding me?” Her jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you’re
my
husband. What did I ever do to deserve you?”

I flipped her over and held her in my arms. “You told me a story about two people desperately in love. To be together, the man built her a home and had to whisk her away from her parents to marry her and live on this island. I wanted that kind of love, Rachael, and I heard it in your voice—you wanted it, too. From that moment, you were mine. You knew my heart. I knew yours. You were mine.”

“And you were mine.” She lifted her head and kissed me.

“Forever and always.”

Our road together would have many twists and turns and at times become rocky, but the one woman strong enough to face the future with me was my wife. My Rachael. Forever and always.