Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Lights out, Sunshine. We have a big day tomorrow.”
I’m not sure where dreams end and real life begins.
Here I am, wearing a dress that’s been passed down through the Winthrope’s family since Queen Victoria reigned. It’s a striking old-world mix of champagne and blue silk. A sleeveless dress with a fitted bodice and floor-length silk. A clasped jewel button holds it together just below my breasts, and ribbons flow from the elbow of the sleeve to the floor.
They pulled off a minor miracle modifying it to fit my modern body.
And I feel like my best self as I carry a heavy bouquet of roses that cascades out of my hands.
“Jesus. They have a chapel in their castle. Now I’ve seen everything,” Dad says, shaking his head.
“It’s a big house, Dad.”
“With a chapel.”
“With a chapel,” I agree.
“Chapel or not, it isn’t close to how pretty you are today, Pippa,” he says, looking me over. “That man ought to get down on his knees and thank God you said yes.”
I smile so wide it hurts.
“We’re both grateful. You look pretty sharp yourself.”
I’ve actually never seen him in a tux before. I can probably count on one hand the few times he ever showed up in a secondhand suit when I was young.
“Yeah, well, if I’m gonna be stuffed into a monkey suit, at least it’s a nice one. Are you ready, though?” he asks, his eyes twinkling.
I nod heavily.
“I think so. Are you?”
“No. I never met a man who’s ready to give up his oldest daughter, but hell. He’s a good man, so it could be a lot worse. He’s the kind of fella I always hoped you’d find someday.”
We share a quick hug before we come to a stop in front of the huge door.
Then we share a look, I nod, and he knocks and takes my arm.
The heavy wood arched door with a frosted glass window opens with a soaring swell of music behind it.
Ready or not, here we go.
Suddenly, I’m walking into every girl’s fantasy.
A gorgeous chapel with old dark pews stuffed with people.
Everyone I love raking me with happy looks. Jenn and Maisy both look like they’re about to explode on the spot. Vanessa and AJ wave to us, who I met just yesterday, two more lovely people who’ll always be in our lives.
Marvelous stained glass and blue walls that fade into a darker blue behind the altar. It’s painted with gold stars to mimic the night sky.
But nothing could ever be more beautiful than the god just a few more paces ahead.
Brock turns to look at me from his place at the altar.
My breath drops out of me so fast I don’t know how I’m still moving.
He looks immaculate in a black tux with a silver vest and bow tie.
Maisy’s wrong. He’s not Mr. Darcy.
He’s Prince freaking Winthrope, and soon, he’s all mine.
Dad walks me past a couple empty pews near the front covered in fresh roses.
My eyes flick back at Maisy for a second, and she gives me a teary grin, holding up her phone, diligently filming for my travel channel.
I smile back at her. Winthrope International thought the wedding would be good PR, and so did I, but we didn’t want to turn it into a circus.
Since micro-weddings are all the rage now, I told him I was giving myself the exclusive.
The music swells louder and my entire world condenses into one striking man.
We stop and Dad places my hand in Brock’s.
“She’s yours now. Treat her like gold,” he says.
“I will,” Brock promises, and they embrace quickly.
I can’t believe how everything blurs by in a haze of happy words and quiet vows.
You know how these ceremonies go.
Ours might be a little grander and prettier than most—especially when Takishido the penguin comes waddling up as ring bearer to everyone’s delight. But large exotic birds aside, it’s the same as every happy wedding.
Big promises.
Bigger hearts.
And when the priest gives permission, the biggest toe-curling kiss of my life that makes our first starry kiss in Lanai feel like a chaste peck.
Holy hell, I’m that girl now.
The girl who found herself a man who will always give her everything.
When we finally break away and Brock leads me through the roaring crowd—complete with a honking penguin flapping his flippers—Mrs. Winthrope welcomes us to the terrace. I’m glad to have a minute alone with my new husband.
“Give me more, Mr. Winthrope. Everything you couldn’t in front of the peanut gallery,” I whisper.
Smiling, he brushes his lips to mine.
“Married for three minutes and you’re already high-maintenance,” he growls, digging his teeth into my bottom lip. “Patience, wife. There will be plenty of time for all the volcanic kisses you could ever want tonight.”
He pulls me closer, his strong arm pinning me to his side, and that’s how we walk out to the terrace.