At the chaplain’s suggestion, amidst the cheers of what seemed like the entire Naval Academy, Joe tossed back Frances’s veil and planted his lips on hers. Respectfully, since they were in a church, but with a hint of what she could expect this wedding night. The wedding night… Joe broke off the kiss before he could go too far down that path and gazed down at his blushing bride, who was also grinning from ear-to-ear. She was a vision in deep ivory, lace covering her shoulders and arms, seed pearls studding the blonde curls pinned atop her head. He rubbed his thumb over the thin gold band he’d just placed on her finger, his own ring a reassuring weight on his hand. “Enjoying yourself?” he said to her, too low for the chaplain to hear. “Yes.” Pitched only for him. Even in the middle of hundreds of guests assembled in the Naval Academy chapel, this moment was painfully, pleasurably intimate. But for now—“Ready to face them all?” She settled her face into more dignified lines.
