Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I want to live out this fantasy to the fullest before reality sinks in again. Standing next to him, I lean my head on his shoulder as we face the photographer. Our hands are clasped with the bouquet hanging down at my side in the other. “You really did think of everything.”
Letting new love and the joy of the day win, we pose all over—walking down the sidewalk, me laying my head on his lap when we sit on a park bench and vice versa, and strolling through the nearest park with blooming flowers. I was so embarrassed at first, but these are fun for us, so I release my inhibitions and enjoy the process.
I even laugh so hard while eating a hot dog that I almost choke. And then that makes me laugh even harder.
Does cloud ten exist? Nine will never capture this feeling adequately.
When we return to his apartment, he swoops me into his arms and even carries me over the threshold. “I don’t think you’ve missed a detail,” I say, protected and safe in his arms.
He kicks the door closed and kisses my cheek as soon as my feet land on the ground. Embracing him, I’m not ready to be apart and lean toward leading him into the bedroom to end the day wrapped up in each other. “Did you have a good day?” His voice doesn’t hold the familiar confidence he carries in life. It’s not boisterous like it is when he’s hanging out with Tagger. It’s not even laid-back like he sounds with his family.
There’s a shyness to it, an uncertainty in his tone. He’s quieter and more reserved. I can see both the boy I knew growing up and the man he is now, needing me to reassure him. I slide my hands over his shoulders and around his neck. My heels are high but still not enough to where I can reach his lips without a lift. I kiss him and then again. Soft and slow. Gentle and caring, hoping I can give him what he’s coveting most. Love. “It’s been the best day of my life.”
His arms are so strong when he holds me to him. There’s no escaping that I’m the life preserver he needs. “Mine, too.”
Taking his hand, I lead him into the living room and dip the bouquet back into the vase. “What do we do now?” I ask, open to the possibilities ahead to decide on my own. “We can make love.” He smirks in response. “Or eat something?” That smirk gets smirkier as expected. “Watch a movie and cuddle together on the couch, or something super New Yorky and sneak up to the rooftop to stare at the stars.”
He rubs his chin as if this is a life-and-death decision. I’m thinking we’ll be doing all of them at some point in the night, so why decide? “Do you have a frontrunner?”
“All of it sounds magical if it involves you.”
“Listen to my wife laying on the charm.”
A girlhood dream comes back to me, one I had pushed down so far that I’d forgotten until now. “I don’t think there’s much I can contribute to make this wedding day any more perfect than it already is, but if I had one more wish, it would be to have a first dance with my husband.”
With his eyes locked on mine, he shakes off his jacket and loosens his tie. He means business of the sex appeal kind. I don’t typically have a suit fetish, but I’m finding it hard to hide how attracted I am to this man. A heaving chest and a stare that tells him to take me straight to the bedroom might be a dead giveaway. He challenges my telltale signs with one of his own—lowering his chin, his bright blues are shadowed by seduction. Under that gaze, I’d let him do anything to me. And if he rolls up those sleeves, I’m done for. Died and gone to heaven.
He leaves me practically panting for more, the jerk, and turns to pick up a remote from a wooden bowl on the coffee table. Music filters through the space from invisible speakers in just a few clicks. The music sets a mood for romance, making me wonder if he always has this playlist queued or if he set this up for us as well. He remembered everything else, so I feel he also prepared for this aspect.
Taking me into his arms, he asks, “May I have this dance, Mrs. Greene?”
I’m glad he’s holding on to my waist, or I’d be mush at his feet. Greene is not a name I ever thought I’d be despite feeling so a part of their family. But to hear it from his lips with the title hooked on the front, I get overwhelmed with emotion.