Page 34 of SEAL’S Baby Surprise (Lanes #2)

RYLIE (LEE) ARIANRHOD LANE MOORE

Things get a little complicated after we get Richie calmed down. He is absolutely flabbergasted that my dress — the top half of it, anyway — is locked up in Austin’s gun safe.

My friend, Rosalee, had packed up the other half before Jason could get his hands on it. But he had tried to sell the string of pearls I couldn’t figure out where to put on the dress I designed.

Part of the delay for the wedding is because Richie’s lawyers picked apart the prenup, just to make sure we could not possibly be liable for anything.

I have to testify that Jason threatened me and my family — which Caleb said would have made the agreement void anyway. Signed under duress, and all that. We get a handwriting expert to prove that I hadn’t signed it, anyway.

I stand in my old studio, in almost the exact spot where I learned that my ex was more interested in my money than in me. My friend Rosalee is holding the train to the glitzy wedding dress I had designed.

“What do you want to do with this?” she asks. “I can’t believe you just had Austin lock the top part in his gun cabinet.”

“To be perfectly fair, he didn’t ask me about it. And he locked up the scissors and all the sharp knives at the same time.”

“He did?” Rosalee looks at me wide-eyed.

“I cut my hair with the sewing scissors, and I guess I was talking kind of wild. Anyway, he was worried that I might hurt myself or maybe even someone else, so he just locked up everything that was sharp and waited for me to come to my senses.”

“Did you?” Rosalee asked. “Come to your senses, I mean.”

I think about it for a minute. “Yes,” I say. “I think I did. In fact, I think I’m better than I have been for a long, long time. Maybe ever. Austin is amazing.”

Rosalee laughs. “I’ve noticed that you certainly think so. And you do seem better. More solid, less scattered. And that Austin is a hunk, but so polite.”

I nod. “I learned to paddleboard, and I might have learned to ride a bike if I hadn’t turned up pregnant.”

“Are you sorry?” she asks.

I cradle my belly which is becoming as round as a watermelon. “No,” I say. “I’m looking forward to this baby. Our little bean has a wonderful dad, and I’m going to do my best to learn to be a good mom.”

“But you are going to live in an old Airstream travel trailer!” Rosalee exclaims. “How can that be good for any of you?”

“Austin is rebuilding it,” I say. “It is going to be marvelous. Meanwhile, Richard’s grandparents-in-law have offered us the use of one of the cottages designed for their workers, and we can stay there as long as we like.

Anyway, we’ll live on the beach most of the time.

Good fresh air, playing in the water . . . “

“Eating sand, risk of drowning, to say nothing of maybe getting eaten by that giant dog,” Rosalee points out. “Is that really a good environment for a baby? You must love Austin a lot.”

“Our baby will have one of us at all times,” I say firmly. “No nannies, no daycare. And Ark is the gentlest, most protective dog in all the world. We are all absolutely safe in his care.”

“What about a jealous big sister?” she asks.

“Julia? She is so excited to be a big sister! We’re already a family, we’re just adding one more.”

Rosalee throws up her hands. “All right! I guess you know what you are doing. I will say you seem happier than you ever have, and I’ve not seen a single panic attack – even though you’ve connected with your brother.”

“Oh, that part is easy to explain,” I say. “It’s Kandis. And Charlie. Richard has always cared; he just didn’t know how to care.”

Rosalee turns her attention back to the gaudy skirt in her hands. “So what are you going to do with this?”

“Sell it,” I say. “Richard has found a buyer for it, the top, and the design. It will fund Julia’s and Little Bean’s college tuition, and maybe some left over.”

“That’s good,” she says. “Especially since it wouldn’t fit now.”

“Not in any way,” I confirm. “I’ve got a different design started. You are going to just die when you see it.”

“Can’t wait,” Rosalee says. “I’ll just box this thing up and get it out of the way. Clear the decks, as it were. We are doing invitations today?”

“Yep,” I say. “Richard is sending some of his secretarial staff to help.”

“So,” she says, eyeing the stack of blank cards dubiously, “Why are you inviting all these people? And why is Dr. Artie going to be one of your bridesmaids?”

“Because,” I explain patiently, “Artie was there for me when I was scared and alone. Kandis is the glue that is holding my family together, and you … well, you’ve been my bestie since our freshman year in college. Who else would I have?”

She gives me a side hug and says, “I’m so glad you are safe and that running away wound up to be running toward something good. And it is amazing that your new fiancée is so handy. I just can’t imagine living in something as tiny as an Airstream.”

“It’s bigger than the van,” I remind her. “It will do to keep the rain off. Besides, we’ll find the perfect house or the perfect place to build a house one of these days. I don’t want to wait much longer to have the wedding, and the Airstream will give us a place to live right away.”

“I kind of get that,” Rosalee says. “And Valentine’s day is a wonderful time for a wedding. I just hope the weather holds. You know that February in California…well, sometimes it just pours rain.”

I laugh. “I know,” I say. “That’s why we talked to the Farmer’s Market carnival people, and we are going to borrow their big pavilion tent. The garden club is going to decorate it, and so are the guys from the village pawn shop.”

“Aren’t they the ones who wouldn’t buy your pearls and diamonds?” Rosalee asks.

“Yep,” I say. “I was upset at the time, but really, they did me a big favor. I would never have been desperate enough to do odd jobs for Austin if they had bought them, and those pretties would probably have led Richard right to me. They almost did anyway.”

“It would have saved the rest of us three months of worry,” Rosalee says, a little crossly.

I am saved from having to further defend my decisions by Richard’s arrival with Andrea, his head secretary, and a bevy of other secretaries – male as well as female.

As they settle in to address the invitations and add postage to them, he comes over and drapes an arm around me.

I’m a little startled. Richard has never been one for demonstrations of affection. But I don’t shove him away. Family is important. And Rosalee was right about one thing: he had worried.

“Are you sure about this guy, Austin?” he says.

“Do you know something I don’t?” I ask. “Because as far as I can tell, he’s the best life event I’ve ever had.”

“You know what?” he says. “That’s almost exactly what he said about finding you on the beach. I’m glad for both of you. Since I’m the one walking you down the aisle, I want to make sure you are not making another mistake.”

“No,” I say, “I think I’m getting it right this time.”

Rosalee hadn’t needed to worry about the weather. Valentine’s Day dawns bright and beautiful. The cherry trees and peach trees are blooming out, and a soft breeze blows in from the west — not enough to make everyone miserable, just enough to bring the scent of the ocean.

Still, the pavilion looks beautiful in the meadow at the Vineyard, and the garden club and other people have done a beautiful job of decorating it.

I have my own little private tent in which to finish getting ready. I’m so excited! I can hardly wait.

Artie and Mrs. Hubbard are putting the last touches on a huge first aid kit that is their wedding gift to me. Rosalee and Kandis fuss over my dress.

It’s one of my designs, but there are no gems on this one. It is a watered-silk, in shades of blue, aquamarine, and pale green, with foamy splashes of white — just like the ocean.

I’m going to be Austin’s mermaid, just as he so often calls me.

My veil is a filmy aquamarine color that floats on the slightest breeze. With all that green color, pink, or red flowers are right out, so I’m carrying a bouquet of white carnations and baby’s breath.

And I have a wreath of them in my hair, which has grown out long enough to style. They smell so good! I feel like I’m walking springtime, or as if I’m crowned in sea foam, and carrying froth in my hands.

The dress is designed to look like the scales of a mermaid’s tail. It emphasizes my breasts and makes no pretense of hiding my advanced pregnancy.

The train floats along behind me, with a soft froth of white lace visible beneath the hem — just like the waves I once begged to carry me away.

Now, I’m being carried away by a different kind of wave. But this one is a wave of life, and love, and immeasurable happiness.

There’s no prenuptial agreement. Austin says that whatever is his, is also mine. And that whatever is mine, I can do whatever I please with it. I’m not sure that’s a fair arrangement, but Richie says not to worry about it.

Julia skips and dances along ahead of us, scattering the only pink in the whole wedding: a basket of pink rose petals. It almost seems a waste, but they mingle with the cherry blossoms that are also drifting down, carpeting the walks.

Our music isn’t the traditional processional. Instead, it’s an instrumental rendition of “Bicycle Built for Two.” Maybe if we’d had one, I wouldn’t have gotten banged up trying to learn to ride. Austin says that I can go back to learning after the baby gets big.

Richard says he’s tired of hearing me say, “Austin says.” But he doesn’t seem too unhappy about it.

It’s an easy stroll down the petal strewn path to where the Reverend is waiting for us. I don’t know what denomination he is, and I don’t really care.

What matters to me is that Austin and I and Julia and our new baby will all be a family. There won’t be any boarding schools for our kids.

There won’t be any separate vacations for Austin and me. We’ll live, love, and be happy together. And maybe have a spat or two, and then make up.