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“I’m up for it.” He followed her gaze down. “Or I will be, by the time we get home.”
She hopped from the table, and he helped her steady herself. Watching her dress, the way she moved, the tiny smiles she gave him each time she looked up—it was perfect. This felt more right than anything had in a long time. Maybe ending up with her was fate, and maybe not. But it felt as though, between the two of them, they were finally in control of their future. He liked that.
* * * *
TWO MONTHS LATER
Bailey scanned the glass coolers, trying to decide what drinks she wanted for the next leg of their road trip. The gas station sat on the edge of the California-Nevada border, and she and Jonathan were headed east. Cool air soothed her skin when she opened the door and grabbed a bottle of soda. It amazed her how warm it was for November. It would be back in Florida, too, but this was dry and she was parched.
Jonathan circled her waist from behind. She’d recognize his intoxicating scent anywhere. He traced his nose along her neck. “You almost ready, Mrs. Woodhouse?”
“That’s not my name yet.” She liked the way it sounded, though. Especially when he said it.
“Have you thought any more about details?”
“I don’t want Elvis there, but I can’t make up my mind about the drive-through.” They’d decided to elope—drive to Las Vegas for the weekend and get married. She had a big fancy wedding the first time around, and it didn’t help the way that relationship ended up. She and Jonathan would hold a reception later, for friends and family, but they agreed they wanted this moment for themselves.
“If you can’t make up your mind, we’ll go into the chapel.”
“Why?” she asked.
He pointed her toward the register. “It’s symbolic of our devotion and transitioning to a new life and...” He grinned when she raised her brows. “Really, I just like watching you walk.”
She leaned into him. “Sounds like a valid reason to me, Mr. Woodhouse.” She frowned. “It doesn’t have the same ring to it.”
“Still sounds like you’re talking about my dad.” He paid for their drinks, and they headed out to the car.
She spun to face him when they reached the Mercedes. “That’s no good, then. How about Mr. Lovey-Schmoopy-Cuddly-Bear?”
He furrowed his brow, and then lunged for her and tickled her sides until she squealed. He dipped his head for a kiss. “I don’t care what you call me, as long as you’re the one saying it.”
“That’s cheesier than Mr. Lovey-Schmoopy-Cuddly-Bear. Dork.”
“It’s not. And I’ll ask anyone in this gas station to prove you wrong.” He turned away.
She grabbed his wrist. “See if the urge is still there next stop. We need to get back on the road.”
“I guess.” Despite the disappointed tone, he grinned.
This beat any daydreams she had of this moment, growing up. Screw the overpriced dress she’d only wear once, and the false congratulations from people who showed up because it was expected. If she’d guessed a million times how her future with Jonathan would be, she would have been wrong with each and every one. This was far better than anything she’d come up with.
~*~
