Beyond These Walls (The Walls Duet #2) (12 page)

I might have started my life down one path, but all roads had led me to that hospital, to this moment, and to this woman.

It was true—what they said in cheesy romance movies. When the bride entered the church, as she looked at her husband-to-be, everyone else seemed to disappear around them.

As Molly placed Lailah’s hand in mine, giving me a tender squeeze on the shoulder, the entire church melted away. I saw nothing but the dazzling gleam of her eyes under the candlelight and the soft tender smile radiating through her as we turned to face each other.

I wanted to whisper something to her, to tell her how beautiful she looked and how much I loved her.
But how could I fit a hundred different emotions and feelings into a single sentence?

It was impossible, and I only hoped that the vows I’d prepared would do her justice.

The pastor greeted the congregation, and I briefly took a moment to look out and see our family and friends smiling back at us. Our mothers were in the front pew. My mother was already clutching a delicate lace cloth between her fingers, knowing she’d need to blot away the tears that would eventually make their way down her cheeks. After giving Lailah away, Molly had taken her seat next to my mother.

The church was filled. Many I knew, but most I didn’t. I had argued with my mother, trying to keep the attendance low, but ultimately, I’d given in, knowing that my professional position and our family name required me to invite certain individuals.

At this moment, I didn’t care who was here with us.

As long as Lailah was in front of me, looking at me with that wondrous excitement in her eyes, the church could be filled or empty, and I’d still be the luckiest damn man on the planet.

“As a pastor of this church for thirty-five years, I’ve married many couples right here, at this very spot. So many, in fact, that I’ve married some of their children here as well.”

He chuckled a little under his breath, and the congregation joined him.

“Many of those couples stick out in this old memory of mine, those who just seem . . . well, special. Jude and Lailah, from the minute they stepped through the door, became one of those couples. Lailah’s overwhelming spirit seemed to fill the entire church as she bounced from corner to corner, gasping with excitement over the architecture of this beautiful building.”

I smiled, remembering that day. Pastor Mark recalled it perfectly.

Lailah and I had visited half a dozen churches while on vacation in Ireland, many just like this. Nothing had deterred her excitement each and every time she entered someplace new. Life would never dull for Lailah. Each day was a miracle.

“I’d seen such excitement before, but when I appeared and explained our process for being married here, that joy would usually soon dissolve, and many couples would disappear just as quickly as they’d appeared, searching for another church with a far easier process. See, I’m a bit old-fashioned.”

I rolled my eyes a bit, which caused Lailah to scrunch her nose and giggle a little.

“I still believe that a couple should know one another before marriage, which is why I require all my couples to go through premarital counseling. When I approached Lailah and Jude with this requirement, Lailah literally jumped up and down and asked when we could start. It was then that I knew I’d found something special.

“I’ve learned so much about these two since that day. Standing here, presiding over this blessed union, I am beyond honored.”

His warm smile, filled with love, shone down upon us. I’d grown immensely fond of this man over the last two months during our weekly sessions as we spent time getting to know him and his views of marriage and life.

“Lailah and Jude have chosen to recite their own vows, a modern touch that this old guy is actually pretty partial to.”

He gave me a nod, letting me know I could begin. A flutter of nerves settled into the pit of my stomach as I watched him turn the microphone in my direction, so the congregation could hear each and every word.

As my eyes settled on Lailah, suddenly, everything solidified, and calm found its way around my anxious emotions.

“A time not too long ago, I thought I’d never see you again. I’d wake up each morning, thinking about all the moments I’d told you I loved you, and that would only lead to all the times I hadn’t—like those hurried good-byes when I had seriously been pushing my thirty-minute lunch break or the many nights we’d fallen asleep together and never said it. All those missed opportunities to say I love you weighed on me, like pennies slowly filling up a jar until the little copper coins spilled out onto the floor.”

My fingers held on to hers as my thumb slowly grazed her hand over and over as I said my vows, “When you came back to me, I felt this overpowering need to tell you just how much I love you, every second of every minute of every day. Sorry, I know that those were probably a rough couple of days.”

The congregation laughed as her eyes lit up, and she giggled.

“I was simply overwhelmed. This—what I feel for you, Lailah—it’s powerful. Following those first few days after our reunion, I realized that I could do nothing for the rest of my existence but tell you just how much I love you, and it still wouldn’t be an accurate measurement of what I feel for you. My love is immeasurable, infinite and always evolving, and you have it, all of it—for as long as I live.”

Lailah’s lips quivered as she tightly squeezed her eyes closed. Reaching into my pocket, I grabbed the lace handkerchief my mother had given me moments before the ceremony. I gently held it to Lailah’s face and dabbed the tears away. Her fingers briefly curled around my wrist, touching the cuff link that rested there, before taking the handkerchief in her own hand.

Pastor Mark looked to her, silently asking if she was ready, and she nodded.

Her voice was a bit hoarse, filled with emotion, as she began to speak, “I could say so many things to you in this moment, including how you saved me in so many ways. But you would just shake your head and disagree, choosing to say the opposite.

“So, instead, I’m going to talk about snow.”

My eyebrows rose as several people in the church chuckled.

“Like most West Coasters, I have a weird obsession with snow. It’s cold and white, and it falls from the sky. The first time I saw it, I ran outside without even bothering to put on a jacket, and I danced around under snow flurries laughing and screaming like a crazed person. I’m fairly certain I nearly sent you to the hospital.” She grinned.

I nodded.

“From that moment on, my reaction hasn’t changed much—although I do remember to bring a coat. Being the California girl I am, I had no idea just how much snow could fall from the sky. Living in New York has been a hard and fast education in weather.

“There was a storm, a particularly bad one last winter, and the city had to actually shut down. The snowplows couldn’t keep up with the amount of snow Mother Nature was producing, and as I sat on the couch while the lights flickered off and on, I looked out the window, worrying whether we’d have heat through the night. But then, you came and wrapped your warm arms around me, and I realized that nothing mattered as long as we were together. Snowstorms, heart transplants, or anything else the world wants to throw our way, as long as your hand is in mine,” she said, looking down at our joined palms, “I’ll never fear the unknown.”

I was in awe.

As we exchanged rings and I felt her delicate fingers slide that cool metal band into place, I wondered,
Does one man deserve so much? Or am I tempting fate?

JUDE’S SOFT GREEN eyes melted into mine as he placed the simple gold wedding band onto my ring finger. I looked down at it, the tiny white diamonds twinkling under the soft glow of candlelight.

I’d imagined what it would look like on this day, standing here with Jude in front of our friends and family.

It felt solid, real, and incredibly permanent—just like Jude.

His mouth curved into a half grin as he watched my gaze return to him.
What was he thinking about?
As his eyes dipped to my cleavage, I found myself blushing.

Oh . . . that.

Well, I guessed I would need to thank my good friend Grace for the lingerie.

Pastor Mark began, “Now that Jude and Lailah have given themselves to one another and made promises through the exchange of rings”—Jude squeezed my hand, knowing this was it, and his eyes locked on mine as I bit my lip, trying not to cry—“I am so honored and incredibly happy to pronounce them husband and wife.”

We looked to him for permission, the excitement between us nearly causing us to hover off the ground.

Pastor Mark laughed and nodded at Jude. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Our eyes met as Jude’s cocky grin returned. My heart hammered in my chest. It was as if I’d never been kissed before, as if I’d been waiting for this moment my entire life.

Leaning forward, his fingers found the back of my head, digging into my hair, and he pulled me close. A millisecond before our lips met, he whispered, “Forever,” just loud enough for the two of us to hear.

The congregation erupted into cheers and applause as we took our first kiss as husband and wife.

It was magical.

As we pulled back, I looked up to see tears in Jude’s eyes. I rose up on my tiptoes and gently wiped them away before we turned toward our family and friends.

“Introducing Mr. and Mrs. Jude Cavanaugh!”

We raised our joined hands in triumph, laughing in joy, and we raced down the aisle to congratulations and applause.

We hadn’t been married for more than an hour, and I kind of already wanted to hurt him a little, not a lot—just a small kick to the shin or a tiny shove.

As the guests had all filed out and been whisked away to the beautiful hotel ballroom that was serving as our reception location for cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, we had stayed behind with our small bridal party and family to take photos.

As I dutifully followed directions from our patient and amazing photographer, I felt it—the subtle brush of his fingers across my bare skin, the way his body seemed to hover just a bit closer each time we readjusted our poses. He was doing it on purpose and in front of our family.

And, dang it, I was letting him.

I knew it probably all seemed innocent to anyone nearby—a brush of a hand, a tender kiss. For me, it was anything but. With the raging inferno threatening to burst free from me, desire so fierce pooled deep within that I felt like we might as well be filming a porno right there in front of my mother and father.

“Okay, I think that’s enough of the family photos. Everyone but Lailah and Jude can head over to the reception,” the photographer announced.

I nearly sighed in relief, and then I saw Jude’s mouth twitch beside me.

“Oh, shut up,” I muttered.

We got another round of quick congratulations, and then it was just the two of us and the photographer.

But she earned the reputation that had preceded her by managing to fade into the background and letting us do what came naturally—getting caught up in each other. We moved around the church, taking photos in candlelight and near the large arches of the windows. Nothing was posed or stagnant, and it only perpetuated the need to have him more.

After about fifteen minutes, the photographer had gotten everything she needed, and we were let free to join the others at our reception.

“Ready to party, Mrs. Cavanaugh?” Jude asked as he took off his tailored jacket. He placed it on my shoulders right before opening the heavy church door.

“I’d actually rather drive around in the limo for a few hours.”

His eyes darkened, and we stepped into the cold winter air. My head tilted upwards, catching tiny snowflakes from the flurries that had begun during the ceremony.

“Snow,” he stated, glancing up at the wintery sky.

“Snow,” I repeated, remembering my wedding vows from just an hour earlier.

“Let’s find that limo,” he said.

Scooping me into his arms, he walked down the steps toward the street. I laughed, but it was cut short when I heard him curse.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.