Page 30 of Fighting for Julia (Laguna Beach Cops #6)
LAGUNA BEACH, CALIFORNIA
Miguel and Julia
Julia blushed and protested, “Oh, no, Brielle, that’s not necessary.”
Brielle looked askance at Julia. “Of course it is. Every bride, no matter the circumstances, deserves a wedding gown. It doesn’t have to be elaborate, Julia. Just elegant.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Miguel interrupted. “Do you remember what I said to you last night?”
Her blush deepened. So cute and endearing on a seasoned DEA agent who’d recently blown up a few bad guys with hand grenades.
“Yes…”
“It’s real. We’re real. And I even have a real tux to wear, this time as a groom. It’s been dry cleaned, and each crease has been pressed. My shirt has been starched to crispness. I’m ready to stand proudly by your side. To see you in your wedding gown.”
Julia stared at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted two heads. Her eyes grew suspiciously bright with moisture before she averted her gaze.
Brielle grinned and clapped her hands. “Well done, Miguel! Very sweet and romantic.” She rose to her feet. “Come on, Julia. We have several boutiques to visit. Don’t worry, Miguel. I’ll bring her home safe and sound.”
After the women left, Miguel packed his duffel bag. He wasn’t sure if Julia would want him touching her delicate unmentionables, so he sent her a text.
Miguel: I packed my stuff. Do you want me to pack yours?
She replied with a laughing face emoji, the one with tears bursting from its eyes, and followed it with a text. Apparently, she was adept at reading between the lines.
Julia: Yes! It’s okay to pack my…stuff.
Miguel could almost hear Julia and Brielle laughing at him. “Hey, I’m just trying to be a gentleman,” he muttered.
He went into the adjoining bedroom and began to place Julia’s folded clothes into her duffel bag. He wasn’t so much of a gentleman, however, that he didn’t peek at Julia’s size. For future reference as her husband, of course.
After checking to make sure he wasn’t leaving anything behind, Miguel grabbed the keys to Justice’s SUV that Brielle said he could borrow and left the house, locking the door behind him.
He pressed the key fob to open the back and tossed the duffel bags inside.
Miguel slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
Doubt paralyzed him.
What am I doing? This is right, isn’t it? Marriage is supposed to be sacred. What if Julia and I are making a huge mistake? What if we’re ruining our only chance to have a future together?
Another voice spoke to him. One he’d known intimately and loved.
What if General Escobar kills one or both of you? Carpe diem, Miguel. Seize your chance at some happiness before it’s too late. You love Julia. And it’s okay. She’s the perfect woman for you.
Startled by the unearthly reality of that voice, Miguel glanced around, half-expecting to see Ashley grinning at him. He was alone.
Shaking off that unsettling thought and the creepy-crawlies it caused, Miguel backed out of the driveway and headed toward his destination—Marvin’s Custom Jewelry.
He’d known Marvin and his wife Cissy for years.
When Miguel first became a cop, he’d responded to their silent call for help as they were being robbed and prevented them from losing a fortune in gold, diamonds, and other precious gems. They’d never forgotten him and often invited him to dinner.
While on patrol, he checked on them, sometimes more than once a day.
A bell above the door tinkled, announcing his arrival.
Marvin Goldberg, a spry man in his sixties, appeared from behind a black velvet curtain that led to his workshop.
In his hand he carried a loupe. When he saw Miguel, a broad smile crossed his face, and he pushed the magnifying glasses he wore to the top of his head.
“Officer Rivera! How kind of you to visit. But what are you doing in Laguna Beach?”
It wasn’t a secret in Laguna Beach that he, Justice, Owen, Hutch, Luca, and Tawny had been recruited by Madam Secretary Washburn to be her security detail while she campaigned for President.
“Taking a detour to get married, Marvin.”
Marvin came around the long glass counter to shake Miguel’s hand. “Congratulations! Cissy will be thrilled when I tell her the good news. She’s in Montana touring its last surviving sapphire mine. We’re hoping to make a deal with Kirkland and Sons who owns it. So, who’s the lucky lady?”
Miguel grinned. “Julia Washburn.”
Marvin raised his bushy gray eyebrows. “Well, good heavens! That was quick.”
“Extenuating circumstances, Marvin. Will you help me choose the perfect set of wedding rings?”
“It’ll be my pleasure. Step this way.”
They moved toward a showcase that featured wedding bands and engagement rings, each set handcrafted by Marvin.
He placed a black velvet cloth on the glass-topped counter and unlocked the case.
Marvin reached inside and withdrew three different engagement rings.
The spectacular diamonds sparkled beneath the overhead lights.
“These are primary cuts, Officer Rivera. Teardrop or pear shaped, princess-cut, and the typical round cut. Each offers maximum brilliance to reflect light. It just depends on which one you think your lady would prefer. If you like the cut but not the setting, I can design something special for you.”
“How long would that take? As soon as we get our marriage license on Monday, we’ll be getting married, probably by the end of the week.”
“For you, I could have the setting finished in a couple of days.”
The teardrop or pear shaped diamond reminded Miguel of the first time he’d met Julia. The night she’d cried tears of heartbreak in his arms. He pointed at it.
“I like that cut.”
“Perfect choice. I will cut the diamond myself and polish it until its brilliance can no longer be hidden. Whatever setting I design for you, I will also use on your wedding bands. Do you know Ms. Washburn’s ring size, perchance?”
Fortunately, Julia had left her emerald ring on the dresser, and Miguel had slipped it into his pocket. He fished for it and laid it on the black velvet. “I think it’s a size five.”
Marvin measured it. “You’re right. This emerald is lovely. Is it her birthstone?”
“No. She was born in February.”
Marvin studied Miguel’s hands. “And what is your ring size, Officer Rivera? Size nine?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll have the most elegant and original wedding rings ready for you by Tuesday.”
Miguel wasn’t worried about that. He had far greater issues on his mind. “How much do I owe you?” When Marvin quoted a ridiculously low price, he protested. “No. That’s too far below the value of the diamond, not to mention your time and materials.”
“You’re an honorable man, Officer Rivera. I’ll double the amount and call the rest I would normally charge a wedding gift.”
“Fair enough, Marvin.” They shook hands. “Do you need a deposit?”
“No. You can pay me on Tuesday.”
Miguel nodded. “See you then.”
Fifteen minutes later, Miguel parked in his driveway.
He climbed out of the SUV and gazed at his humble home, evaluating it through Julia’s eyes.
Though constructed in the 1950s, the previous owners had maintained it well.
The large yard, a green carpet of grass, was fighting its way back from winter.
Some of the plants in the flower bed that graced the front of the house beneath a set of evenly spaced windows had already begun to bloom.
Huge trees that surrounded the property provided plenty of shade.
When Miguel bought it five years ago, he’d painted the exterior sky-blue, trimmed in white, and remodeled the kitchen and two bathrooms himself.
He also extended the patio and screened it in.
An in-ground pool was next on his list, but the cost had doubled in recent years, and his modest savings account wouldn’t cover it.
Miguel unlocked the door and stepped across the threshold.
He dropped the duffel bags and breathed deeply.
At least his home smelled fresh and clean.
He gazed at his comfortable but well-worn furniture.
Miguel loved every piece, especially the overstuffed armchair, but now he wished he had replaced it with something newer.
In anticipation of being gone for the better part of the year, Miguel had cleaned out his refrigerator and freezer but had left a few bottles of water. He grabbed one and drank a quarter of it as he considered what to do next.
Call your priest.
Miguel pressed the number for Father Dominguez, an elderly priest who’d known him since he was a young boy.
Father Dominguez held Mass in the old Spanish mission in the hills and ministered faithfully to his parishioners in the surrounding area.
Miguel attended Mass whenever he could, and now he wanted to get married there, if Father Dominguez was willing.
“Hola, Miguel. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”
“I’m sorry, Father. Do you have time to see me today?”
“Noon Mass begins in an hour. I can see you afterward.”
“Yes, Father. I’ll be there.”
Miguel drained his water bottle and sent Julia a text.
Miguel: Running errands. I feel great. Hope you’re enjoying your shopping trip.
Julia replied with a happy face and red heart.
Miguel arrived at the old Spanish mission just before Mass began and slipped into a pew in the back.
Memories assailed him. Memories of Easter cantatas and Christmas pageants, of learning catechism with his brothers and sisters, of softball games played against St. Francis Cabrini, of potluck dinners after Mass.
Yes, he wanted to get married here, to begin his life with Julia in this sacred place.
Miguel bowed his head and prayed for guidance.
After the few parishioners who’d attended Mass filed out of the sanctuary, Father Dominguez made his way down the center aisle to meet Miguel. They embraced.
“Stirring message, as always, Father.”
“Thank you, my son. Shall we speak in my office?”
“Yes, Father.”