Page 49 of Marry Me Tomorrow
“I guess we should probably head back,” I say in a whisper. My voice is barely audible over the pounding of my heart.
“Yeah,” Trent says, taking his hat off and brushing his hand through his hair before putting it back on his head.
Back to our cabin. Our cabin with one bed. One bed that we will be sharing again tonight. But I don’t mind. I’ll be awake, replaying that kiss in my mind over and over.
At the cabin, Trent offers me the bathroom first. I quickly change into my pajamas before I step out. “The bathroom’s all yours now,” I say, my voice quieter than usual. My steps falter a bit as I see him standing there in pajama pants and a T-shirt.
“Thanks. You can pick whichever side of the bed you prefer. I’m not picky,” he replies, turning toward the bathroom with a smile.
I quickly get settled into bed. When Trent emerges from the bathroom, the dim light of the room casts soft shadows on his face, only highlighting his handsome features.
He turns out the lights and climbs into bed next to me. Even with the weather cool outside, he rolls the comforter toward my side, keeping just the sheet over him. I happily take the covers, as I’m now shivering slightly from both the cold and the nervous energy coursing through me.
“It’s so chilly at night here,” I murmur, my teeth practically rattling.
“Here,” he says, reaching toward me. “Come here?” He gestures toward his side of the bed.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“I’m trying to warm you up,” Trent says, his voice soft but firm. “Come on, Jenny, just let me hold you. I don’t want you to freeze tonight, and I can help give you some body warmth.”
I hesitate for a moment, the cold biting at my skin and my thoughts swirling. Slowly, I inch toward him, his warmth radiating like a lifeline. “Oh, alright,” I mumble, relenting. “But only for a moment.”
As soon as I’m pressed against him, heat floods my chilled body, the contrast almost startling. I try to ignore the storm of emotions roaring inside me as I give in to the comfort of his warmth. Without thinking, I nuzzle into him, seeking more, and lace my fingers with his. “How the heck are you so warm? You’re literally like a miniature heater.”
He smirks, the corners of his mouth quirking up with that playful charm I’ve come to know. “I can assure you there’s nothing miniature about me,” he says, his voice rich with amusement.
I gasp, the heat in my cheeks growing. “Oh my gosh, I cannot believe you just said that. I’d smack you right now if it didn’t mean I’d have to leave these warm sheets.” I glance down at our entwined fingers, realizing just how much comfort his touch brings. “I feel warmer already.”
He chuckles, the sound deep and warm, wrapping around me like a blanket. “You can stay here as long as you’d like. I’m not going anywhere.”
Unable to resist, I press myself closer to him, drawn by an invisible force. When I glance up, his face is less than an inch from mine, his eyes soft and full of something that makes my heart skip a beat.
“Hi,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.
“Hi,” I echo, breathless, my words caught in the gravity pulling us together.
Our lips meet, and the world fades. The kiss ignites something deep inside me, like a spark catching. It’s as though we’re picking up right where we left off at the hanging bridges, but this time, it’s more. His kisses sear through me, spreading heat from head to toe.
The sensation of sharing a bed with him—feeling his warmth, his closeness—sends a giddy rush through me. Trent, my husband, is kissing me. And it feels like magic.
His hand slides down my body, tracing a path to where my pajama shirt meets the waistband of my pants. His fingers slip beneath the fabric, the contact sending a thrill through me. Goosebumps ripple across my skin as his warm hand settles in at the dip of my waist. The simple touch feels reverent, like I’m something precious.
Time seems to suspend itself as we kiss, exploring each other with hands and mouths, lost in the moment. His lips are soft, his movements gentle, a stark contrast to the strength and firmness of his body.
Eventually, the fire between us ebbs into a quiet intimacy. We hold each other in the stillness of the night, the only sounds the soft rhythm of our breathing. His arms wrap around me, anchoring me in a way that feels safe, secure.
“Good night, Trent,” I murmur, my voice barely audible as sleep begins to take me.
“Good night, wifey,” he whispers back, his voice low and full of warmth.
Wrapped in his embrace, I let myself drift off, my heart full, and my body cocooned in his quiet strength.
Still not fully awake, I snuggle deeper into my pillow, burying my face into its soft, comforting warmth. The bed is like a cocoon—so warm, so inviting—I never want to leave it. The cool air from the cabin drifts softly across my face, sending a gentle shiver down my spine. I press my cheek further into the pillow, savoring the texture of the soft fabric against my skin. But then—something feels off. The pillow shifts slightly beneath my head.
Wait, what? Pillows don’t move. My eyes snap open, my heartbeat quickening as last night comes flooding back. It’s not the pillow I’m nuzzling into; it’s Trent. My leg is draped over his. My arm is tucked into his side; his arms are still cradling me, just as they were last night.
Oh no, what have I done? Jenny, you stupid, stupid girl. Why did you let your emotions take over? Bad, this is bad bad bad. I shouldn’t have kissed Trent at the hanging bridges or last night when we got back to the cabin. This is only going to make things more complicated. We are going to separate in a year. You can’t be getting physically and emotionally connected to someone you know is going to leave you in a year. Your heart can’t take it again. You need to set up boundaries, starting with physical ones—no more kissing, no more sharing a bed. Without boundaries, you’re going to get hurt. And this time, it might not be a hurt you can come back from.
