Halfway up the aisle her gaze met his, and her eyes lit up with pleasure as she gave him a quick onceover. He’d been relieved as hell when she had scoffed at the idea of him wearing a tuxedo or even a tie, and she had been the one to select the plain white dress shirt and tan slacks he wore instead. His two groomsmen were similarly attired, and, of course, all of them were barefoot.
Robert cupped his daughter’s left cheek in his hand as he pressed a lingering kiss to the right one. He whispered something in her ear that made her smile but that also brought a shimmer of tears to her luminous eyes. And then Robert was placing Lauren’s hand in Ben’s as the pair of them turned to face the shaman.
Ben had been greatly relieved upon meeting the man – whose name was actually Jeff and not something mystical like Golden Eagle or Oberon – to realize he was just a normal guy. Lauren, in fact, had met Jeff years ago while surfing, and he was part of the regular group who went out on their boards each morning. And instead of some weird ceremonial robes, Jeff was wearing cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.
The ceremony itself was also quite normal, save for a couple of the blessings that Jeff invoked, and the burning of some incense that smelled like rosemary and sage. As for their own vows, Ben and Lauren had opted to keep them simple, pledging only to love each other with all their hearts, to make every single day of their lives an adventure, and to cherish every moment they would get to spend together.
They exchanged their rings – identical bands of gold that had been delicately etched with the sun, moon, and stars – and shared a lingering kiss – to the delight of their guests who clapped and cheered.
And then, as Jeff pronounced them husband and wife, the string quartet began to play the recessional – another Beach Boys tune – and Ben laughed with delight as he recognized the strains of “California Girls.”
***
The reception went on for hours, long after the sun had set, the meal had been eaten, and the cake cut. The night was surprisingly balmy, and most everyone had gravitated out to the deck where a fire blazed in the outdoor pit. Karl was strumming his guitar, humming a tune or two, and rather unexpectedly Robert’s voice rang out in song.
Ben recognized the song as Ray Lamontagne’s Trouble, and smiled a little as he thought how the lyrics could have been written with Lauren in mind. Not just the part about her being trouble – which he’d known from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her – but the line that talked about being saved by a woman. And there was no question that Lauren had saved him – from a life of loneliness, from never knowing the love of a family or a woman like herself, from merely existing as opposed to actually living.
Karl and Robert were singing together now, their voices in perfect harmony, and Ben looped an arm around his brand new wife’s shoulder.
“It’s been a day for very appropriate music, hasn’t it?” he murmured against her hair, inhaling deeply of the fragrant roses she still wore in a wreath around her head. “Though I still don’t understand how you knew about the California Girl connection.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Well, duh. When your buddy Levi there called the apartment looking for you one day and I answered, he said “Oh, so you’re California Girl. The one Ben was all gaga over for so many years.” I figured it would make a nice little change from some traditional classical piece that most people have played at their weddings.”
Ben chuckled, hugging her a little bit tighter. “There is nothing the least bit traditional about this wedding. Or about the bride. But I wouldn’t have had either of them any other way, you know. Because in addition to being unique, you are utterly unforgettable, Mrs. Rafferty. Just ask Levi if you don’t believe me. I’m pretty sure he got real sick of seeing me moping over you.”
Lauren arched a brow at him. “Mrs. Rafferty, is it? You’re just assuming I’m going to take your name, are you?”
He shrugged. “Actually, it really doesn’t matter that much to me. You can keep McKinnon, hyphenate your name – hell, I’d change my name if it came to that. Because the only thing that matters is that you’re finally my wife. That after all that time apart we’re back together. And back in this house that is the only place I’ve ever really felt at home.”
“Speaking of which,” she murmured softly, “how has it been going with your dad?”
He smiled down at her, for she was still barefoot as she’d been all day, and the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. “Surprisingly well. My dad has always been the quiet type, a lot like me, actually, and talking about his feelings and such just isn’t his sort of thing. But he did manage to mumble something about not having been the greatest father over the years, and that he hoped we could try to mend some fences. He’s divorced again, you know. Third time. He swears he’s never getting married again, that he makes a lousy husband, but that he wants to try and be a better father. We’ll see.”
“It takes two, you know,” she reminded him gently. “You’ve accused me of holding a grudge before, but I think perhaps you do as well when it comes to your family. I don’t blame you for being resentful, but maybe if we reach out a little to them it would make things easier.”
“Maybe,” agreed Ben. “At least with my Dad. My mother – well, that’s going to be a much tougher one to crack. But not tonight, hmm? The last thing I want to think about tonight is my screwed-up childhood.”
Lauren smiled at him very suggestively. “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you want to think about tonight, Mr. Rafferty?”
“How fast we can get all of these people out of our house,” he growled in a low voice. “And after that how fast I can get you out of this dress and what’s underneath it.”
She gave him a flirty pat on the cheek. “Honey, who said I’ve got anything on underneath? But let’s see if we can’t hurry things along here so you can find out for yourself.”
Ben wasn’t sure what Lauren said to her mother and sister, but within the next half hour everyone had left – after Lauren had tossed her bridal bouquet to the half dozen single women who’d gathered around to catch it. At first Angela had hung back, shaking her head emphatically when Julia had urged her to join the little group. But then Nick had taken her by the arm and marched her firmly out to take her spot, refusing to let her argue with him on the matter.
But it wasn’t the five foot eleven inch Angela who caught the pretty nosegay of roses and daisies. Instead, it was Madelyn Benoit who snagged the bouquet, to the utter delight of her sister and nieces. Lauren, bold as ever, had then turned to a beaming James Butterfield and told him quite plainly, “Well, now you have to marry her, Uncle James. After all, it’s tradition.”
James had winked at her. “Already in the works, my dear. Isn’t that right, Madelyn?”
Maddy had nodded happily. “We didn’t want to say anything, darling, didn’t want to take anything away from your big day. But James and I plan to marry on Valentine’s Day next year.”
Lauren had given her beloved aunt a hug. “Looks like you and I are more alike than we thought, Aunt Maddy,” she’d whispered. “Because we’ve finally snagged the men of our dreams, the ones we never stopped mooning over, even when we thought we’d lost them forever. I guess sometimes it just takes a little bit longer for dreams to come true.”
***
They honeymooned in Hawaii – a place that astonishingly enough neither of them had ever visited. They spent a week on the island of Maui, where they rented a spacious surf cottage only steps from the beach, and packed a month’s worth of adventures into just seven days – wind surfing, paddle boarding, ziplining, snorkeling, hiking, and driving to the 10,000 foot peak of Haleakala before dawn in order to watch the sunrise before embarking on a death-defying bike ride back down the mountain.