Rehearsal Dinner

A little moment between Harry and Anna during their weddin rehearsal dinner with close family and friends

 

“Nervous?”

Harry’s whispered question at her ear created the sweetest rush, her scalp tingling in instant response.

For the past several minutes, he had his arm curled around the back of her chair, leaning close to feel her warmth. She had been fairly withdrawn for the duration of the rehearsal dinner, her sparkling eyes passing over the guests that were engrossed in conversation at the table. He had been wondering what was on her mind every time he glanced to his left, but before a word could pass his lips, someone had called for his attention.

Anna turned her head to the right to have a better look at her husband’s beautiful smiling face, a soft dreamy sigh escaping her at the glittering pools of blue that stared back at her. “A little,” she whispered in return, her mouth matching the slight curve of his.

Harry leaned in closer, ducking his head to press his lips on her bare shoulder. Then, comfortingly, his fingertips on her other arm slowly walked along her exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Of marrying me…again?”

Anna shifted in her seat, eyes fluttering between the sensation of his languid caress and feeling his words softly spoken on her skin. “Not at all,” she murmured.

Harry’s eyes peered up at her, intrigued. “What, then? Tripping before millions of people?”

“Mm-mm.” Her face twisted before she added, “Well, maybe. But I think every bride is a little frightened about that…no matter how many pairs of eyes are watching.”

“Mm.” Harry hummed, leaving another kiss on her bare shoulder, this time chastely before he straightened back in his seat, keeping a hand curled around her shoulder. “Crying then? All that snot running-”

She giggled, shoving back against him. “Gross. That’ll be some interesting wedding photos… running mascara and boogers stuck to my face.”

He chuckled. “I thought you only bought waterproof crap.”

“You’re right; I do,” she confirmed. “So, really, all we have to worry about is the dripping snot going into my mouth while I say the vows. I guess that’s not so bad when you think about it, no?”

A brief pause followed her sarcasm, then Harry broke out into hysterics with a disgusted expression written across his face, catching the attention of the entire table. Anna blushed when the bemusement that belonged to their close family and friends fixated on them. She flashed them a dismissing smile, shrugging her shoulders in answer while Harry continued to laugh uncontrollably beside her, his head tipped back and hand on his chest.

They smiled kindly in return, accustomed to witnessing the pair engrossed in their own little world, then turned back to their previous engagements.

Anna patiently waited until Harry’s high volumized laugh drifted to deep chuckles. “You laugh, but that would be totally humiliating.”

Harry reached for his almost empty glass of the red wine and depleted it. “You could not cry,” he suggested with a teasing tone.

“Impossible,” Anna said with a tut. “I barely made it through our first vows, never mind this time around.”

A broad smile rounded his cheeks, happiness shining brightly at his darling wife. “Well, then, as a devoted, supportive husband, I promise to wipe your dripping nose with my sleeve.”

Anna scrunched up her nose. “Why wouldn’t you just keep a handkerchief with you? I’m not going to ruin your uniform like that. Your gran would have my head!”

“Because I wouldn’t dare leave my wife humiliated alone. We’ll be humiliated together…and possibly headless.”

Her eyes lit up as she giggled. It was such a Harry thing to say; oddly sweet, and still disturbing in nature. Before she could toss out a reply, the distinctive clinking of expensive silverware tapping insistently cut her short.

Harry tilted his head to glare at the grinning faces. “Really.” He said with a growl and a lifted brow.

“Yisser doll, yer eejit!” Skippy drunkenly shouted, taking on a ridiculous and poor Irish accent.

When Harry brought his daring eyes back to his wife, a grin spread wide on his face. He loved the wide eyes that made her look so innocent, yet wildly in love. “Perverts,” he murmured, rising a delighted laugh from not only his wife, but the onlookers that surrounded them. “Quick, tell me what’s gotten you so quiet tonight?”

Lifting a hand to cup his face, Anna leaned in and rubbed his nose with hers. “I’m a little nervous about being figured out. I’ve taken a sip or two of wine tonight, but tomorrow is the big day; people are likely to notice I haven’t taken more than a sip of champagne.”

Harry smiled, fighting off the urge to lay a protective hand over her still flat stomach. “Everyone will be too preoccupied to even bat an eye at that. I think we’ll be home-free, peaches.”

Anna gave him another eskimo kiss, ignoring the disapproving hollers of the guests at the table. “Okay, if you really think so.”

“I really think so.”

She brought her other hand that had been fingering the buttons of his shirt up to cradle his cheeks in both palms, lips twitching as she said in an undertone, “Are we still using the ‘you jump, I jump’ thing, Leo DiCap?”

If he wasn’t so deliriously happy, Harry would’ve groaned at the reminder that she had made him sit for nearly three hours watching some chick flick he could do without last night; why she wanted to watch something that made her ugly cry, he’d never understand. But one thing was certain; that was the last time he would ever challenge her to a rock-paper-scissors for anything.

Harry smiled instead, lips a single inch away from hers, causing the lightest feather touch that made her nose wiggle involuntarily. “Sure, but I expect a spot on that door. Selfish bitch.”

“Ha! I’d never let you drown, my love,” Anna said, a little too sweetly.

Harry chuckled, muttering a short “ditto” before laying his eager lips over hers.