The Cinderella Deal - Jennifer Crusie [42]
Julia was walking unsteadily down the carpet with a ring of daisies in her hair, dressed in some sort of gold floaty dress. She looked very cute but very wobbly. She’s drunk, he thought. Which meant Daisy was too. Julia must have had to get her loaded to get her through this.
He looked past Julia and saw Daisy.
She was wearing white again, and she had daisies in her hair, and a little piece of veil over her eyes. She met his eyes and smiled at him, her megawatt smile loosened a little by alcohol. She looked unstable, and wild, and absolutely enchanting, and her smile made him weak. She stumbled slightly when she got to the steps of the gazebo, and he moved forward and took her elbow to steady her.
“Easy, Magnolia,” he whispered.
She looked into his eyes and smiled that smile again. “Hello, love,” she said, and he closed his eyes because she was so warm.
“Dearly beloved,” the judge began, and Linc concentrated on propping Daisy up through the ceremony. She did very well, but he held on to her tightly anyway in case she suddenly developed a lurch. He knew the people watching probably took it for husbandly devotion. Good for them.
Daisy said her vows clearly, none of which involved lying in front of God, and he slid the ring on her finger.
“You may kiss the bride,” the judge said, and Linc looked down into eyes that were full of warmth and love and wine.
He bent and kissed her. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, and his arms went around her to keep her from falling backward and to hold her close. Her lips were so warm and soft that he felt himself drowning in the feel of her mouth on his, and his breath went away. There are people watching, he thought, and he let her go. Her eyes were half closed and her mouth was full and open, and he wanted to kiss her again, immediately, again and again.
She opened her eyes and said, “Wow,” and he pulled her hand through his arm and walked her back down the aisle while she clung to him.
“That was some kiss,” Daisy said breathlessly when they were alone by the rose arbor.
“You’re some bride.” Linc kissed her forehead, not trusting himself with her mouth. “How much did the two of you have to drink?”
“A bottle of wine. I was a little nervous.”
“About me?”
“No!” Daisy looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I know all about you. I just don’t know about marriage.”
You don’t know all about me, he thought. If she did, she wouldn’t have married him. Because she didn’t know how much he wanted her, and how much he wished he didn’t. Make a note not to kiss Daisy again, he told himself.
“Congratulations!” Chickie grabbed him and kissed him and then fell on Daisy with glad cries, and the reception started. Gertrude kissed Daisy’s cheek and patted Linc on the back, an absolute outburst of emotion for her, and Linc was touched. Pansy wept on everybody. Crawford patted all the women. Julia met Evan York and stayed with him for the whole afternoon, fascinated by his prophecies of doom.
Linc and Daisy just smiled and drank.
Later, the things Linc remembered most about his wedding were Daisy’s kiss at the altar, his mother’s look of grim approval, and the taste of the pumpkin cake.
It was really very good cake.
SEVEN
BY THE TIME the reception was over, Daisy was so tired and so full of champagne that Linc carried her over the threshold, not because of any tradition but because she couldn’t walk. He put her on her bed, threw her quilt over her, and staggered back to his own bed. In the morning he didn’t mention the wedding kiss, and neither did she, and they both went to work on their own projects. Linc noticed that Daisy was trying to fix the house, but mostly he worked on his classes, his tutoring, and, wonder of wonders, his book.
“You know,” he told Daisy two days after the
wedding, “I wasn’t happy that you’d moved all my furniture upstairs, but you were right. That front