To Cherish and To Hold (Love of a Rockstar #1.5) (12 page)

“I,
Luke, take you, Marlene, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part.”

Beaming, Luke stroked my palm with his thumb. I recited the same vows without hesitation, overflowing with love for him.

“You may kiss the bride!”

The audience roared with applause as Luke and I shared our first kiss as a married couple. We floated toward the exit on a cloud of bliss.

The reception was done rustic style with one long table spanned from the fireplace to the archway. Bell jars held bouquets of flowers while tea lights flickered against the stucco walls. A cowbell chimed, announcing dinner was ready. The guests found their assigned seats and talked as they sat next to new and old friends alike.

Matthew and Camille conveniently ended up across from each other. I watched them avoid eye contact, but they were unable to do so for long. Their chemistry crackled in the air. They should sneak into a closet and rid themselves of the tension. Sex was a one step problem solver.

“Isn’t that right, Marlene?”

Pulled from my thoughts, Luke stared at me with a wicked grin, aware that my attention had been diverted.
Bastard.
My great aunt waited for an answer to her question.

“Yes, that is correct,” I replied smoothly.

Obviously, it was the wrong answer because she blanched and sharply turned her chin away.

Lowering my voice, my palm smacked Luke’s knee. “What the hell?”

“She wanted to know if we were planning to raise our kids Catholic. I told her that you didn’t want to.”

“You made me a sinner in her eyes.”

“That’s ok.” His mouth brushed my ear. “I like sinners.”

“Of course you do. You are a sinner yourself.

“Damn right and a proud one too.”

A smile broke free as I looked at my husband.
Husband.
The word felt like chocolate silk on my tongue, luxurious. The first course of baked mac and cheese bites was presented on white china plates. Our guests fell silent as they dug in. Sharp cheddar mixed with goat cheese added a pleasant tang. By tomorrow, my pants wouldn’t be able to fit, but you only get married once. At least, that’s the hope.

The contentment lasted until a frazzled waiter bustled into the dining room. His black pants cuffed at the ankles were stained with water. His eyes were as big as saucers. He didn’t seem as if he was rushing to deliver good news. I mentally braced myself for whatever catastrophe awaited me.

“I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner, Mrs. and Mr. Anderson, but there is a situation in the kitchen,” the waiter said.

Luke’s mouth thinned. “What kind of situation? Not enough mushroom caps situation or the oven broke and there is twenty pounds of food that can’t be cooked situation?”

The waiter grimaced. “Worse.”

“Worse?” I echoed.

“Yes, Ma’am.” His hazel eyes churned with fright. “A pipe broke and if we don’t stop the water soon, the house is going to flood.”

“Shit,” Luke and I said at the same time.

We excused ourselves from the dining room table. Luke, having longer legs, beat me to the entrance of the kitchen. He uttered a string of curse words that would make a priest’s ears bleed. I peeked around his shoulder and gasped. The kitchen staff was all hands on deck of the sinking ship. No, that wasn’t a pun. It was literally a sinking ship; three inches of water had accumulated and was rising fast. The young waiter hovered behind Luke and me, biting his fingernails. Luke whistled loudly to catch the catering staff’s attention. They froze in action, panic etched onto their faces.

“Listen up,” Luke boomed. “Move the prepared food to the front of the house. I’ll turn the main water valve off and call a plumber.” He glanced at our caterer, Lacy, who held a large bucket. “Is there any way to salvage the dinner?”

“We prep the ingredients in advance, but without a stove, you are looking at raw meat and cold mashed sweet potatoes. Although, we can serve the rolls with whipped honey butter.”

“Mac and cheese and rolls are a carb fest, not a gourmet feast,” I mumbled.

While the busted pipe wasn’t anybody’s fault, the old plumbing could have waited until tomorrow to crap out on us. Luke had planned our special night so that there wouldn’t be any stress involved. However, it seemed as if stress followed us around like a stray dog. My foot itched to kick an inanimate object hard and with great conviction.

He spun around and faced me, dejected as I was. “I’m sorry. Everybody warned me about buying a fixer upper but I didn’t listen.”

Luke had managed to throw a picture perfect wedding. It was up to me to salvage it. Putting a hold on the pity party, I racked my brain for a Plan B. Water soaked the hem of my wedding dress. First things first, though.

“You need to shut the valve off,” I said to Luke. “Like, now.”

A trickle of water ran into the hallway from the kitchen. If we didn’t hurry, the whole house was in danger of some serious damage. Damage that we couldn’t afford. Luke hightailed it to the basement while I returned to the dining room. The guests, none the wiser, were enjoying glasses of mahogany colored wine. Reviews were mixed on whether you could enjoy alcohol during pregnancy. I leaned toward the cautious side but the urge was especially strong tonight.

Camille, her gaze bright with interest, mouthed. “What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t her problem, but being the maid of honor, this kind of fell into her role of duties. Not really, but in times of peril, every man counted. I jerked my head toward the hallway. Getting my message, she rose from her seat and followed me away from prying ears.

“Those mac and cheese bites better have fulfilled your hunger because there is a busted pipe in the kitchen,” I said as she stepped into the hallway.

“No!”

Her horror somehow made me feel marginally better. “Yes. Luke is turning off the water valve as we speak but without an oven, our caterer can’t cook anything. There are fifteen people waiting for steak and brown butter whipped sweet potatoes.”

“Damn, that sounds good.”

“I know. Yesterday, I had an out of control hankering for meat. The only thing that got me through the night was visualizing a steak.”

Camille snickered. “That’s what she said.”

Rolling my eyes, frustration nipped at my nerves. “Camille….”

“Sorry!” she said, clearly the opposite of apologetic. “Why don’t you order a pizza? Go gourmet with the toppings and throw in an order or two of salad.”

“Isn’t that tacky?”

“Only if its Domino’s.”

Mulling over her idea, it wasn’t half bad. Luke had gone low key with the reception and dress code, which meant the food could be laid back as well.

“Where I would get gourmet pizza though that delivers?” I asked.

“You need pizza?”

I jumped at the sound of Matthew’s voice. He’d snuck up on Camille and I with the skills of a ninja. He looked at me with concern as I placed my hand on my racing heartbeat.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you but I overheard the word pizza.”

Camille sneered. “So? That doesn’t give you free range to interrupt a conversation.”

Ignoring her attitude, he flashed her a panty-dropping grin. “Pizza is a subject I’m an expert on. Thought you might need my help.”

“We don’t actually….”

Whatever Camille’s problem was, it had to be tucked into a drawer. I cut her off. “Do you have any pizza connections?”

“I do. My old buddy owns Pies for Miles. It was voted the best pizza in Seattle, in case that matters.”

“It does. Can you order eight pizzas? You choose the toppings.”

“You got it.”

With that off my shoulders, the stress bearing down on me, eased. “Thank God for that man,” I said to Camille as he walked outside to make the phone call.

She looked after Matthew with a pensive expression as if he was a mystery she couldn’t solve.

L
uke and I were supposed to be on a plane to Paris right about now. Instead, we were mopping the kitchen floors while a small portable radio blared pop music. Nevertheless what mattered was that our guests had gone home fat and happy. On the way out the door, some even praised us on going non-traditional. Food wise, the disaster turned into a blessing in disguise.

Luke swiped at his brow. “Is it weird that I’m hungry again?”

“You didn’t eat much.”

You would think eight extra large pizzas would serve fifteen people, but our guests had bigger appetites than we realized. Luke and I managed to grab a slice each while everybody else got three. My stomach grumbled loudly, evidence we were in desperate need of a real meal. Luke chuckled while a blush heated my cheeks. While pregnant, you could forget about being a lady. The sounds your body makes borderlines on unnatural.

He propped the mop against the wall. “Go sit. I’ll make us something.”

Looking around the water logged room, the hours of work we had in front of us added up like dollar signs. The plumber wasn’t due to come in until tomorrow morning but I had a feeling that whatever news he delivered, it wouldn’t be kind to our wallets. The dream of eating croissants in Paris floated further and further away. Sighing, I hoped onto the metal island while Luke investigated our options in the fridge.

“We have raw steak, cold mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, and rolls,” he said.

“The last three sound fine. I’m past the point of caring whether food is warm or not. The baby is demanding a meal of any sort.”

Luke piled the stack of containers onto the island and popped off the lids.
Sixteen Candles
style, we sat crossed legged on the island, facing each other. Although the air smelled like damp mold and there wasn’t a birthday cake between us, it was just as romantic.

“I’ve been dying to know how you pulled this whole thing off.” I pointed a floppy carrot at him. “You have the skills of a secret agent, Sir.”

Laughing, Luke shrugged. “It wasn’t that hard. Your grandma and mom handled the logistics while Lacy managed to squeeze us into her calendar. If it was up to me, I would’ve married you two weeks ago, but I was told multiple times by multiple frantic women that wasn’t feasible.”

“And the house? It looks incredible.”