“What? Are you serious?” Even though I’ve come to terms with being here, it doesn’t mean I want to linger and make it a serious vacation. Besides, Drew needs to get back home so he can resume practice.
“Well yeah, remember the spot where we kissed?” His eyes are warm as they search my face, filled with so much love I feel my heart swell.
“Yes,” I whisper achingly. “Of course I remember.”
“I want to go back there.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his index finger lingering on my skin. “I want to kiss you again in that little alley and remember how wet we were from the rain. How nervous I was. I was scared you might reject me.”
I’d felt the same way. We’d dealt with much of the same feelings and fears and hadn’t even known it.
“I want to take you to that store where you got the dress that just about killed me and buy you whatever you want,” he continues, his fingers drifting across my jaw. My eyes flutter closed as memories rush back at me. “I want to sit outside the dressing room and have you come out to show me every single thing you’re trying on.”
That he remembers all the little details sends a thrill of pleasure spiraling to the very depths of my soul.
“And then I want to wander off for a bit and let you do whatever you want, secretly hoping that you’ll send me a text that says ‘marshmallow.’ Though if you don’t, that’s okay, because I’ll send you one instead.” He offers up a crooked smile and the sight of it cracks my heart wide open, overflowing with so much pure love for him I want to cry. “Because we made a deal. Whenever we see or hear that word, the other comes running. I’ll always be the one to rescue you, Fable. You never have to worry about that.”
“Drew.” My voice cracks and then I’m in his arms, my face pressed to his neck, his lips on my cheek. He’s whispering words of love and devotion but I don’t really hear them. I can only feel. His soft hair tickling my cheek, his hands smoothing up and down my back, his warmth radiating into me. He’s solid and real, the sound of his heart beating steady and strong against my ear, and I slowly pull away from him. “When can we leave?”
He starts to laugh, the sound rich and full of honest humor. “We can’t leave yet. We’ve only been here maybe an hour.”
“Isn’t that enough time?” I ask hopefully.
“Fable, we’re staying here. We can’t just bail on our party and go upstairs.” His laughter dies, his expression gone serious. “Everyone will know what we’re doing.”
“What? Having sex? Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?” I stare at him wide-eyed and he slowly shakes his head. “We’re newlyweds, Drew. We’re still on our honeymoon.”
“No, we’re not.” He glances around, making sure no one is standing close to us, I’m sure. Heaven forbid anyone hear us talk about sex. “Come on, Fable.”
“Ha, you’re so cute.” I hook my arm through his and snuggle close, breathing deep his warm, spicy scent. “Saying all sorts of romantic words to me, filling my head with sweet memories, and then you go all shy on me. Afraid you might offend your dad?”
“We’re surrounded by people. They’re all here for us,” he murmurs, his lips barely moving. How does he do that? It’s a pretty slick trick.
“They’re not here for us; they’re here for your dad.” I wave a hand, dismissing his words. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“What about Owen?”
“He’s sitting at that table with your dad’s new girlfriend.” Her name is Tami and she’s sweet as can be. Nothing like that other woman, who shall not be named. “She’s making sure he’s well fed.” Tami is rather motherly toward him, and not in a creepy way, either. I think there’s something about Owen that screams lost little orphan boy with a shitty mother or something. He seems to bring that out in every woman he meets.
“I thought you wanted cake?” He’s searching for every excuse to stay out here and it’s the cutest thing ever.
“Hey.” I grab hold of him by one of the belt loops on his trousers, pulling him into me so close our hips almost collide. “Let’s sneak inside for a quickie and then we can come back out, and hopefully the cake will be ready by then.”
“Don’t you think they’ll want us to cut it?”
I roll my eyes. I know I’m pushing and probably making him uncomfortable since we’re on his dad’s turf, but I don’t really care. I like pushing him, just as much as he likes pushing me. Sometimes we need that extra push even when we don’t realize it. “We aren’t going for all that traditional-type reception stuff, are we? I didn’t wear a baby-blue garter under my dress, you know.”
His brows lift, his mouth quirked in a crooked smile. Now that remark caught his interest. What a surprise. “What do you have on under that dress?”
My skin warms at his blatant perusal, the way his eyes seem to touch upon me as they rake over my body. I can feel him, as if he just physically touched me. A shiver shakes through me and I tighten my finger around his belt loop, tugging him so close our hips do collide this time. “Maybe you should come inside with me so you can find out?”
That’s all it takes. He follows behind, crowding me, his hand at my lower back, fingers trailing down over my backside, getting lost in the folds of my skirt. The dress is all white lace, sleeveless and short, with a flared skirt that hits just above the knee and a wide swath of black satin ribbon as a belt tight around my waist. It’s pretty and feminine, and I can’t wait for Drew to take it off and discover I have no panties on beneath it.