We'll have some lovely wedding planning moments with Francis and Mary as the chapters go on :)
"Okay, I managed to get through to the people who helped Kenna with the cake," Mary says as Francis takes a shower and she rests against the sink with her phone. "They can do an appointment right now with a few cake testers for us."
Francis turns to face her, wiping off his soap beard that makes her laugh. "Wow, I didn't think you'd get such a quick response."
"Kenna has been an easy bride for them, they're flattered for the recommendation from her for us," Mary explains. "And one of the head bakers is a big fan of yours so set that charm up to a hundred for us."
Francis snorts. "If I must," he says, turning so he faces up into the water stream to wash off the shampoo from his hair.
"Hey, what colour scheme should we go with?"
"I love red, you love red... Why don't we go with-"
"Red?" Mary giggles.
Francis mockingly gasps. "You read my mind!"
"I'll catch up with all the names Kenna has given me," Mary informs him. "Is it a specific red?"
Francis raises his brows at her, flattered that she's including him on the planning. "Burgundy. Looks great with blacks and silvers. It brings out your eyes and makes you seductive but you're only a seductress for me."
Mary smirks as she blushes a little, nodding. She taps away at his suggestion on her notes. "We have so much to do in so little time."
"It doesn't have to be a grand affair," Francis says. "I just need you and me as well as a couple of rings, an officiator and two witnesses."
Mary grins. "I'd love that but I want us to celebrate our marriage with all of our friends and families. At least we're having it in Scotland. I confirmed with my mother and she has Saturday the third of October free for us, at the chapel."
"Confirm it," Francis tells her.
"Done. I've already got my dress sorted out," she says much to his surprise. Then she elaborates. "My mother's dress. She sent me a picture that I deleted before you could sneak a glance and it's stunning. I love it."
Francis shuts the shower off, coming to stand in front of her, reaching for a towel "I'm glad you do. I'll try and get the guys together to look at suits after the wedding in France. It will be easier because Kenna and Bash leave a few days after it because he's got a project."
"He's getting married and working straight after?"
"He's high in demand," Francis says, running the towel in his hair. "Right, I'll get dressed and we can go gain some weight and make Kenna have a meltdown when the Best Man and Maid of Honour have gained a few pounds from all the delicious cakes we'll eat and can't fit into our outfits."
Mary scoffs, slapping his chest. "So mean..."
...
"...Kenna went for the vegan Victoria sponge, chocolate and red velvet options anyway. You don't have to make a set decision now," the advisor says. "We also do orders out of the country."
Mary clicks her tongue, tapping her dessert fork against the china the carrot cake was on top off. "Do you do custom flavours? Like banoffee or salted caramel?"
"Yes. We also don't only make cakes. We could make a croquembouche. That was also a favourite of Kenna to entwine Sebastian's French roots with French traditions at their wedding," the advisor tells her.
Mary's eyes light up as she turns to a dozing Francis. "Francis?"
He jumps, sits up straight and smiles widely. "Yes, that sounds great!"
"Relax, we don't care," Mary says with a laugh. "She said she does custom orders. Croquembouche and the sorts."
Francis smiles in confusion. "But we're having the wedding in Scotland."
"And so? I'd still like to incorporate all of our roots. Croquembouche for our French ties, Torta Paradiso for your Italian ties because I know your Nonno is from there and finally, black bun, a Scottish delicacy for my father as it was his favourite."
Francis blinks in awe and nods dumbly. "Y-Yeah!" He turns to the advisor. "Is that okay?"
She laughs and nods. "Totally. We want our couples to have the best day of their lives and if they want black buns and Italian cake, then yeah. We can do it all." She stands. "In fact... I think we've got a taster for some tiramisu which you could probably serve at the reception for dessert and we've got some Torta Paradiso saved somewhere."
Mary's eyes water and she beams. "Thank you!" She breathes out as the advisor hurries out to get them. She turns back to Francis, taking his hand in hers. "I know we're having it in Scotland but I want to feel everyone there. From my dad to your Nonna and Nonno."
Francis studies her eyes. "I can see the gears working in your mind and I will help you achieve your dream wedding."
"Our dream wedding," Mary says, cupping his chin and pressing a kiss on his lips. "Come on, shift some cake in your tummy and shake out of your food coma because she's coming back with some more goodies!"
...
"Urgh, I'm never eating cake again," Francis says, lifting his shirt up his tummy and patting it as they lay on their bed.
Cakes surround them and Mary's eyes close. "What about at Kenna and Bash's wedding?"
"I'll throw up on it," Francis mumbles.
"What about our wedding?"
Francis winces. "One bite, no promises."
Mary giggles, coming to curl up on his chest as he snakes an arm around her. "Thanks for being so... open."
"It's our wedding and I'd like to be involved in the first place," he says easily, pressing a kiss on her head. "Let's promise to always get to the same page even if we want different things."
"Promise," Mary mumbles against his chest tiredly. She groans when she hears her phone ring and she gets out of the bed, going to retrieve it from the bathroom where it's charging.
She was listening to music earlier on when they got back as she relaxed in a bubble bath to soothe her aching stomach. All of those cakes were too much for their tiny tummies.
"Kenna, hey."
"Pack up, bitch, we're going to my bachelorette weekend getaway!"
Mary groans, slinking to the tiled floor. "No..."
"What do you mean, 'no'?!"
"I feel awful, Kenna," Mary tells her, rubbing her stomach. "It's that damn cake."
Kenna hums. "What? What cake?"
"The one you recommended for our wedding cake," Mary whines at her. "We had too many cakes... Francis is probably in his cake coma now."
Kenna laughs and then she sighs wistfully. "Sorry, you're not getting out of this too easily, girlie."
"Damn it..."
"We'll have that cake-filled tummy full of alcohol instead! I'm going to be at yours in thirty, be ready," Kenna says.
Mary sighs dramatically. "What should I dress for?"
"Why, Ibiza, of course," Kenna croons happily. "Right, let me just handle Bash's situation and I'll be right there."
Mary has the audacity to gag as she hovers over the toilet. "TMI."
"No, he knocked his knee," Kenna says with an exasperated sigh. "I swear he's an old man already because he's crying about it like a baby and we have no bloody ice at home."
Mary sighs in relief. "Oh, right. Tell him to get better, I guess," she mutters. "Try some frozen veggies."
"Will do. Be there soon, so pack and get ready!" Kenna swoons before hanging up.
Mary heads back into the bedroom, falling onto the bed with her back meeting the mattress. "Kenna's bachelorette in Ibiza."
Francis moans. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too," she says, straining to hug him as he pats her head.
It sets them off in giggles and Mary gets up properly to give him a kiss before he wraps his arms around her tightly and tries to deepen it. But she stops it to go and pack and slaps his chest.
"See you in France then," he says, resting on his stomach with his elbows propping his head up.
Mary turns to him in confusion before it dawns on her. "Oh, we'll be in France for the wedding..."
Francis nods, smiling. "Can't wait to see you in our dress."
"Can't wait to see you in your suit," she replies, kissing the top of his head. "Love you."
"Love you too," he says, closing his eyes and memorising her lips on his head. "Get packing. Kenna won't wait for long. She'll kill you."
Mary chuckles, feeling a pat on her bum cheek. "Alright! I'm packing!"