(Book 3) Roadhouse Garden

Part 49

Thursday afternoon is rehearsal, and as we meet at the vineyard, I'm glad that we decided to keep the bridal party to the bare minimum. There's the officiant, Prince, me, Angel, Derik, Marcus, Kirk, and Kirk's wife. 

The chairs and the arch has been moved into place, and everyone involved is shown where to stand, while Marcus and Kirk's wife watch from the seats.  Prince and I, standing next to one another, listen intently as the ceremony headings are read aloud, then we all read through the ceremony draft together.  Marcus does his best to keep Derik distracted and quiet while we do this first run through. 

We practice the recessional, then the processional last, which seems confusing to me, but apparently this is how it's done.  I feel pretty confident since it's just our small group that things will continue to run effortlessly.  Even Derik seems to understand the importance of being ring bearer, and does his part with a controlled enthusiasm.  

With the first run complete, we move into the second.  Everyone takes their place and the process is repeated, again it flows smoothly. Prince smiles contentedly before he whispers to me, "Not bad."

I whisper a question because I feel stupid for asking, but I've never done this before, I whisper back, "Don't we recite our vows?"

He leans in, "No, we save that for the wedding," he presses a kiss to my cheek.  I thought for sure he would tease me for asking, but his manner stays affectionate. 

From what Prince shares with me, rehearsal dinners tend to be immediately following the rehearsal, but since there are several people who weren't able to arrive until Friday, he had scheduled our reservations for then. 

Before we go our separate ways for the evening, we spend just a few minutes talking since we'll be meeting again Friday evening.  I'm satisfied with how Prince had planned each day, grateful for the spaced out events instead of a quick succession, which I feel would have been emotionally taxing.

On our way back to the hotel, Prince asks how we're going to unwind tonight, this is an unusual question since we usually just go with the flow.  "What's on your mind?" I ask, cutting to the chase.  

"There's this place I wanted to check out," he starts tentatively.

I raise my eyebrows, "Am I invited?"

He laughs, "Of course, Sugar.  It's a Jazz club," he goes on to elaborate.

We head back to the hotel to freshen up and change. As I pull out and examine a flapper inspired dress that I had brought with me, Prince pauses behind me to whisper in my ear, "That one's perfect," before he goes on to select a coordinating ensemble.  

We arrive at the Red Piano Lounge just shortly after they open at 7:30. I'm relieved to see on their sign that they close at 11:00, because when music is involved Prince tends to lose all concept of time.  We sit off to the side of the stage at a cozy little bar table with a flickering candle at its center.   The atmosphere is inviting, and we place an order for a spinach dip appetizer to enjoy while we tap our feet to the music.   It seems Prince is not recognized by the staff or patrons, but we do get quite a few glances. Maybe because we are dressed compared to the majority of the audience, which is a mix of basic streetwear and business casual. 

Things change though as Prince leaves his seat to study the musicians from the edge of the stage, several of their faces register excitement as they look up from their instruments to see him standing there.  Between sets, there is a round of handshakes and some animated conversation between him and the band, Prince is now invited on stage and has commandeered the piano.  Patrons at the club are intrigued by this turn of events, but as the music resumes they enthusiastically  return to their toe tapping. 

The place may close at 11, but from what I've learned, musicians don't have a shut off time.  A brief discussion takes place on the stage after the building has emptied and Prince returns to the table radiating energy.  I smile at him as I stand, "You're dropping me off at the hotel, aren't you?"  He looks disappointed as he shakes his head no, I frown in my surprise.  "Prince," I touch his arm, "go play, I don't mind." 

His eyes light up before pulls me in for a quick kiss, and returns to the band to work out some last minute details.  Full of anticipation, he drives me back to the hotel, depositing me in the foyer of the penthouse before running off.

"Thank you again, Sugar," he kisses me deeply before turning to head back out for the night.

*******

I feel the bed shift before I feel the warmth of his body as he cuddles closer. 

I turn my head in his direction, comforted by his return, "Hey," I whisper and he repeats the greeting. "You have a good time?"

"Umm, hmmm," then he falls silent. 

"What time is it?"  My answer is a low grunt followed by more silence, so I let myself drift back to sleep in his arms. 

We sleep until almost noon, and when I wake, I'm groggy from too much sleep, Prince, however, pops out of the bed like toast. I shake my head and stumble towards the coffee pot as he's zipping around the penthouse and he's already ordered us a light lunch to tide us over until the rehearsal dinner at 6:00.

"How many are going to be there tonight?" I question as I scan through my dresses.

"Forty-one," as he comes to watch over my shoulder.

"Forty-one?  That seems like an odd number."

"Derik," he reminds me before kissing my cheek and reaches to select a dress from the small group. 

I frown at the dress, which is beautifully embroidered, but in my mind I was thinking along the lines of something more formal.  "Is this enough?"  He looks at it again, and nods.  Now I know which dress I'll be wearing, so I ask, "How long will it take us to get there?"

"Five minutes," he grins, "I've rented the banquet hall downstairs."

Now it's my turn to grin, "How convenient."

He grabs me and starts to steer my toward the bed, I bite my lip as I struggle with whether or not I want to stop him.   "Prince," I say gently, not sure how I want to bring this up.

"Yes, Baby?"

"How horrible would it be...I mean...is it possible we could....you know...maybe, behave..." I'm stumbling all over with my thoughts because sometimes his stare alone does things to me.  

His brows knit, "The day before our wedding and you become chaste?"

"Just for tonight.  I had actually wanted to say something before we got here, but..." I don't see what the problem is, it's not like we have sex every night. 

"Okay, sure," he purses his lips, "if you think you can do it." He flashes a grin and saunters away cockily. 

Oh, hell, I think, I know that walk, it means:  game's on!