He didn’t look forward to the sixty days in the desert, but he was a professional, and the reward would be worth it.
Back at the trailer, he placed the wedding gown across the back seat of her car, while she went inside to change into the swimsuit she kept here. He stripped down to his boxers and dove into the cool, refreshing water, where he swam underwater for three strong strokes. When he surfaced, he gave his head a fling to get the water out of his eyes. The sight that met him took his breath away.
Gillian had a new swimsuit. A teeny, tiny red bikini. Her mile-long legs carried her toward the fishing hole, her hips swayin’ like church bells on Easter morn, and a hot time Saturday night look in her eyes. She’d painted her mouth vixen red.
Tucker thought it entirely possible that the sixty-nine-degree water surrounding him might just turn to steam.
“Mr. McBride, I have a counterproposal for you.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. But first, I need to tell you something.”
“Okay. Hurry up, though, because I need to get my hands on you bad.”
“I’m counting on it.” Poised at the edge of the swimming hole, ready to make her dive, Gillian lifted her lips in a temptress’s smile that inexorably drew him forward. She signaled for him to stop at a point where his feet reached the rocky bottom.
She circled those luscious lips with her tongue. “At our Girls Getting Grubby weekend, you taught me three important survival rules. One.” She held up her index finger. “Determine my need and develop a solution.” She held up a second finger. “Continually work to improve my circumstances. And three.” Up came the third finger. “Don’t make my situation any worse. Based on those rules, I have developed a personal acronym.”
She executed a graceful, shallow dive into the water and moments later, surfaced in front of him. Instinctively he reached for her, but again, she signaled him to stop. “Our acronym begins with L. I love you, Tucker McBride, with my whole heart. Not just my entire heart, but whole as in healed. I love you with my whole heart.”
His own heart thudded. “Gillian—”
She cut him off. “No. My turn to talk. After L comes I, for invest. I am invested in this relationship. I am all in. That brings us to V. You have two Vs in your S.U.R.V.I.V.A.L. acronym—vanquish fear and value living. I considered both, but I settled on Venus.”
“A planet?”
She laughed. “The goddess of love. I intend to be your Venus, Tucker, because in addition to love, Venus’s functions encompass desire, sex, fertility, prosperity, and victory.”
“Fertility?”
“In due time, yes, fertility.”
“I can work with that. So, you have L.I.V.… is the next one E?”
“Nope. Too short. We’re going for the whole tamale, or gerund, as it were, so the next letter is another I. Infinite, for no boundaries. No boundaries in this love I give to you. N is for nanosecond. I’m not going to waste a nanosecond of loving you. Finally, G. G is for giggle, because laughter is vital to a life well lived.”
“L.I.V.I.N.G. I love it. Can I kiss you now?”
“No, not yet.
“What about that nanosecond?”
“I have to summarize first. So, I determined my need, developed a solution, and I’m working to improve my circumstance without making it any worse. I’m committed to L.I.V.I.N.G., which brings us to my counterproposal.”
Gillian looped her arms over Tucker’s shoulders and laced her fingers behind his neck. “Tucker McBride, will you repeat our wedding vows with me two months from Saturday? In Las Vegas?”
He blinked. Repeat their vows? No divorce! Tucker grinned as joy filled his heart. “A destination wedding? Really?”
“Really.” Happiness sparkled in her eyes. “My mother will love it.”
EIGHT WEEKS LATER
In the bride’s room at the Chapel of Wedded Bliss, with a photographer clicking away and Maisy Baldwin, Caroline McBride, and the Blessing cousins looking on, Barbara Thacker buttoned the final button on Gillian’s wedding gown and took a careful step away. She gazed at her daughter’s reflection in the full-length mirror and then clapped both hands over her mouth. “It’s perfect. Just perfect.”
The gown featured an off-the-shoulder portrait neckline that Barbara had trimmed with beading and crystals. A dropped waist bodice and deep V-back gave way to a billowing ball gown skirt. Gillian met her mother’s gaze in the mirror and sighed, “Oh, Mom. You’re right. It is perfect. It’s the wedding gown I’ve always dreamed of wearing.”
Her mother’s eyes gleamed with tears, and she blew Gillian a kiss. Gillian blew one back, then gave her reflection a critical once-over. “It’s the right dress. Tucker is the right man.”
“Reverend Mills is the right officiant,” Celeste offered.
Angelica shrugged. “I understand Elvis was a little put out.”
“He’s going to play the piano as Gillian and her father walk up the aisle,” Barbara said. “He’s quite talented. I was impressed.”
Gillian grinned. “We only pick the talented Elvis in Vegas, Mom.”
A rap sounded on the door, and Maisy opened it to reveal Gillian’s father and brother, each dressed in new gray suits and red ties. Mike winked at Gillian, blew her a kiss, then said, “I’ve been told to give you all a five-minute warning.” As the Blessing cousins wished Gillian well and took their leave, William Thacker’s gaze went past Maisy to his daughter. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his eyes. “Oh, princess. You take my breath away.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”
“I wonder if Elvis knows CPR,” Caroline mused as she picked up her bouquet and prepared to assemble in the back of the chapel. “Tucker is going to take one look at her, and his heart will stop.”
Once the room was cleared but for her parents, Gillian attempted to put some of her emotions into words. “Mom. Dad. I want you both to know how much I love you, and how very much I appreciate how understanding you were about what happened in Vegas last time, and how much I value your part in making today a fairy-tale day for me. You are the best parents any girl could ever have.”
Barbara took hold of her husband’s hand and briefly leaned her head against his shoulder. In a voice that trembled with emotion, she said, “All we ever wanted was for you to be happy, Gillian. Tucker makes you happy.”
“He does, Mom. More than I ever dreamed possible. I’m the happiest woman in the world—because of Tucker and Dad and you. And because I’m wearing my princess wedding gown.”
Barbara grabbed her husband’s handkerchief away from him and dabbed her eyes. “Well, then. No more of this or I’ll cry, and my mascara will run. Let’s get you into those skyscraper shoes of yours, and then I’ll go do my MOB thing.”
From a box on a dressing room chair, she picked up Gillian’s wedding shoes—not the rhinestone embellished heels she always dreamed of wearing, but the red snakeskin Christian Louboutins she’d worn for her first wedding in Vegas.
Precisely at the top of the hour, on her father’s arm and to the music of Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,” Gillian picked up her fairy-tale castle purse and went off to marry the love of her life.