Free Her Island Fantasy, an erotic novella (Bridesmaids in Paradise) by Emma Jay Page A

got to keep his position as best man.
    “Shut up,” Ian said easily.
    Eric’s eyes widened as he met his brother’s gaze. Ian smacked him on the shoulder and nodded toward the other end of the aisle.
    “Jesus,” Eric said, and Ian couldn’t argue, his attention was riveted to the woman walking toward him, her hands folded around a bouquet of hell, some kind of flower, her pretty blonde hair in an elegant style off her neck, her gorgeous body wrapped in a strapless red dress that hugged her breasts and her belly, and stopped just below her knees. She was barefoot, mostly, with some kind of sparkly foot jewelry that winked in the sun on as she walked down the runner on the sand.
    He hadn’t seen much of Bailey in the past twenty-four hours. Haven had needed her best friend for some final wedding detail shit, and damn, Ian had missed her. She winked at him as she stepped up to stand across from him, and turned to watch Haven walk down the aisle.
    Ian tore his focus away from Bailey to watch the bride. Her dress was styled like Bailey’s, but long and cream and covered with lace. She wore a simple gold necklace and her dark hair was swept up in a style a little more elaborate. But all of that paled against her radiant smile as she looked at his brother. When her father gave her away and she moved to stand beside Eric, there may as well have been no one else around. They only had eyes for each other as they said their vows. Bailey took Haven’s bouquet and Ian handed over the ring, then smiled over at Bailey while the two exchanged rings.
    When Eric had told Ian he was getting married, Ian had been glad, and had looked forward to following him down the aisle. He and Mallory had been together a long time, longer than Eric and Haven, and it was time. When Eric said the wedding would be in Hawaii, Ian thought maybe he’d propose to Mallory here.
    Then it had all gone to hell for so many reasons and Ian had dreaded being at the wedding, thinking of what might have been for him and Mallory. But oddly, right now he didn’t miss Mallory. Right now when he pictured himself in his brother’s place, a beautiful, fun-loving blonde stood beside him.
    The preacher announced it was time for Eric to kiss his bride, and he did, enthusiastically, dipping her just a bit, to the delight of their guests. The two hustled up the aisle, toward the tented area where the reception was to be held. Ian reached for Bailey, who slid her arm through his, as they followed.
    He bent his head to hers. “You look incredible.”
    Her cheeks pinkened. “Thanks. You clean up nice yourself.”
    But that was all he had time for, which was good because everything else lodged in his throat. The photographer started bossing them around into poses, and when that torture was over, Bailey was swept away to do maid of honor duties. Ian wondered why the hell women worked so hard for just one day. Still, he liked watching her as she did everything from check the guest book to the seating arrangements to the caterer. She moved so gracefully in those weird little jeweled sandal things. He watched her so long he feared he might be developing a foot fetish.
    Finally the wedding party sat, Bailey and Ian on either side of the couple. Now Ian got nervous because he had to give a speech, which was ridiculous because he knew everyone here. But he stood, holding his glass of champagne, and looked down at his big brother.
    “I had a speech written,” Ian said, patting the pocket of his slacks. “It was pretty much what you’d expect the brother of the groom to say, complete with snide remarks. But when I watched my brother watch his bride walk down the aisle today, I didn’t feel like being snide about love, not today. Standing up there next to the two of them, I couldn’t help but be drawn into this bubble of joy that surrounded them, and that’s what I want to address today—the joy they found in love, in being together, in being in the moment, in looking forward