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I turned to my side to look at him, stroking the damp hair on his forehead.
“We don’t need a piece of paper for me to be Mrs. Fox. I’m committed.”
“I need it. I want to know you’re mine,” he said.
I cupped his cheek, meeting his gaze. “I am yours.”
Oliver pressed his lips to mine, holding them in place until I thrust my tongue into his mouth, stroking along his.
"You taste good," Oliver whispered, his lips brushing against mine.
"What do I taste like?" I asked, curiosity piqued.
"Strawberries," he replied.
"From lunch," I clarified, chuckling softly.
"Everything on you tastes good, especially certain things," he murmured suggestively.
"Are you sure you're thirty-six? You act like you're sixteen sometimes," I teased affectionately.
"You bring out the youth in me," Oliver confessed, his eyes sparkling with adoration.
"You are young. You think thirty-six is old?" I challenged playfully.
"No, but compared to you it is," he countered.
"It's not. Promise me you'll live until you're one hundred," I requested, half-jokingly.
"I promise, and in the interim, I want to give you the world," Oliver vowed sincerely.
"I think I'd like to get married at Hotel SW," I declared, suddenly feeling a surge of excitement.
Oliver's face lit up with enthusiasm. "You would? I can arrange it very quickly. I've dealt with Sebastian Wyatt before."
"The singer?" I questioned, recalling the name from somewhere.
"No, the father of the singer," Oliver clarified. "He's amassed quite an empire outside of the Wyatt brand. I've worked with him on a couple of real estate projects. I'm sure he could get us into one of his rooms at the hotel in midtown."
"I don't want just any room. I want the garden room," I insisted firmly.
"Why?" Oliver inquired, curious about my choice.
"Because I love the windows and the ceiling," I explained, my mind already envisioning the beauty of the garden room at Hotel SW. With its stained glass windows and partial glass roof, it was a truly stunning setting that overlooked the Hudson River.
"I'd have to pull some favors to get in there," Oliver admitted, his expression thoughtful.
"Please?" I pleaded, my heart set on the idea.
I had always dreamed of having my wedding in The Garden Room ever since we attended a function there several years ago. The size of the room and the breathtaking views had left a lasting impression on me.
"I'll call Sebastian on Monday," Oliver relented.
"Thank you," I said gratefully.
"What date would you like?" Oliver inquired.
"Late spring or early summer. I love that time of year," I replied, envisioning a romantic outdoor ceremony.
