Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw everyone sitting around a long table lit with a line of lanterns and candles down the center. Jordan stood smiling and poked Tristan in the arm. “I wasn’t ready yet.” Turning to speak to me, she said, “Wait till you see this.”
She flipped a switch in her hand and above us what looked like hundreds of little white lights lit up. Strung along grapevines that created a canopy above the table, they twinkled like the night sky. I gazed up at the incredible work Tristan had done to make our reception so beautiful and turned to see him smiling at me. “It’s so gorgeous! Thank you.”
“I can’t take the credit. Jordan is the architect of all this.”
I looked over at her and saw her nod. “Your husband here called me as soon as he got home from the hospital and asked for my help. I told him I knew exactly what you’d like. Remember that day we spent looking through all those wedding magazines? You saw that picture of the nighttime garden wedding and loved it. So I told him just leave it to me.”
Looking around at all the beautiful decorations and lights, my eyes began to fill with tears at how wonderful the people in my life were. “It’s perfect. Thank you. And thank you everyone for being here to celebrate this with us.”
“No crying allowed,” Jordan joked. “Tonight is a celebration. So let’s get to eating and drinking. The best caterer in the city has made us a meal to put all other meals to shame.”
Tristan and I sat down at the head of the table as uniformed waiters filled the table with baskets of sliced baguettes and tomato basic garlic crostini. As everyone talked and laughed, a gorgeous summer greens salad was served, and then we all enjoyed our meals of peppered beef and lemon herb chicken home style, sharing our meal together, like it should be.
I watched as the people closest to us enjoyed a night that had been a long time coming. Under the table, Tristan squeezed my hand, and I turned to see him looking at me. I squeezed his in return and whispered, “You did good here, Mr. Stone.”
“You haven’t had any cake yet.”
“I’m not sure I can fit cake in after all of this,” I joked. Of course I would eat a piece of our wedding cake.
His expression grew serious, and he lowered his voice to the merest of whispers. “Are you happy?”
“Crazy, blissfully, in love happy. What about you?”
“Happier than I ever thought I could be. I love you, Nina.”
Before I could tell him I couldn’t wait until everyone had left so I could show him exactly how much I loved him, a waiter wheeled a cart toward us with a towering pink icing wedding cake made from individual cupcakes decorated to look like pink roses. They were exactly like the picture I’d shown the caterer, even more perfect, if that was possible.
“I made them promise me they’d match your bouquet, Nina,” Jordan said with a smile as the cart stopped next to me.
“They’re gorgeous!” I said as I took one from the waiter and passed it to Tristan. Turning toward him, I said with a smile, “And if you try to push that cupcake into my face, we’re going to have our first married fight, Mr. Stone.”
“And ruin a piece of art like this? Never,” he said with a chuckle.
“Gorgeous and intelligent. I love that in a husband.”
Jordan stood and cleared her throat as the waiter poured champagne into everyone’s glasses. When we all had ours, she began her wedding toast.
“Congratulations to Tristan and Nina on their marriage. This day has been a long time coming. I’ve known Nina for years and always told her that good things happen to good people. I believe that. These two people are the perfect example of that. So now, after all they’ve been through, this good thing has happened to these good people. Tristan and Nina, here’s to great things in your future. You deserve them.”
We all raised our glasses, and Tristan clanked ours together as we and our guests said in unison, “To great things!”
I slid my hand over Tristan’s and weaved my fingers through his. He turned his head and looked at me with an expression that told me he wished we were alone. I knew how he felt. I did too.
“I think they’re going to expect a dance from us at least before they let us sneak off to begin our honeymoon,” I said quietly as music began playing behind us.
“Then let’s give them what they want,” he said with a sexy grin.
He lead me to the center of the garden as the harpist played a love song, and there, for the first time, we danced as husband and wife. Later, after all the guests had gone and we were alone in the house, he took my hand and led me to the sitting room where we’d sat together that first night. As I stood in the middle of the room, he turned on the music and we danced to our song as he whispered the words to Nothing Compares To U by Sinead O’Connor just like he had that summer night a year before.