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“Open it.”
She opens the envelope and removes two plane tickets from within, along with a note. She opens the note and reads it. I smile at her eyes widening as they shift from side-to-side.
I remember every word I wrote.
Princess,
You’ve given me everything I’ve ever dreamed of.
You might think that your life will always be in Heatstroke. That you will never get the adventure you dreamed of. Let’s fix that.
Love,
Carter
And those two plane tickets are to France, specifically to Paris. From there, we’ll catch a regional flight to Bordeaux. The South of France, just like she wanted.
The note trembles in Hannah’s hand. “Are you serious? These are tickets to?—”
“Yeah,” I say. “I thought we’d go next week.”
“Are you kidding?”
“You can’t go in your third trimester, so let’s go now. We’ll go away together, enjoy ourselves, and then come back and get properly settled in at the house. Figured it’s a good way to start our life together.”
“Our life.” Her cheeks turn that beautiful shade of pink again. She scrambles across the seats and throws her arms around my neck. She kisses my cheeks, my nose, my lips.
I kiss her back hard, my hands wondering over her back, moving down her spine, tracing her curves. She isn’t showing yet, but I can’t wait until she is. I can’t wait to treat her the way she’s always deserved to be treated.
“Hannah,” I say, against her mouth. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she whispers.
“Let’s get you back to the ranch.” And then I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and nip it.
She moans against me. “I don’t know if I can wait that long. I’m so desperate for you, Carter.”
I love hearing that. Even more because I know she would’ve been too embarrassed to say it in the past. Too shy. Now, there’s nothing between us except too many clothes. “Come on, Princess. Let’s go. We’re giving the folks in front of the bakery a free show.”
She lifts her head and glances out at them. “Who cares?” And she’s shining with pride. Unabashed.
I’m so fucking proud of her. “I do,” I say. “Nobody gets to see you moaning and coming except for me.”
Hannah shifts back into her seat and clips her seatbelt into place. And then we’re on our way back to the house together. Our house.
“We should go,” Hannah sighs, as she takes a casserole out of the oven and places it on the counter. “It’s ready.”
We’re due at Ganny’s pot luck in a half hour. It’s just enough time to drive out there. But Hannah and I have spent most of the morning in each other’s arms. I’ve made her come three times, but it’s still not enough.
When I said I was going to worship her body, I meant it.
Hannah’s wearing a cute cotton dress studded with blue flowers.
I take hold of her waist and turn her around in my arms, brushing the backs of my fingertips over her cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” she says.
“Just good? That’s not right.”
