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“‘We’re everything,’” I whisper. “I don’t need this place or the dress… I don’t even need the rings. Not as long as I have you.”
My fiancé—husband—doesn’t move an inch.
The crowd is agitated, someone hollering their impatience.
“This is the part where we kiss.” My fingers dig into his sleeves as love and nerves overwhelm me.
“Give me a minute.” His voice is rough. “I’ve waited forever for you.”
“Three days?” I tease.
“My entire fucking life.”
Harrison’s mouth cuts off my words as he drags me against him. His body crushes the breath from mine, his fingers tangling in my perfectly done hair. My dress slides over the buttons on his suit jacket, and the crowd erupts.
His lips are hot and silky, his tongue parting mine as if he can’t wait to get inside me.
Even here.
Even like this.
When he lets me pull back an inch, I’m breathless, the night air burning my lungs.
Camera phones click, our friends and family jostling for a good angle.
Behind them, the chapel photographer wears a blue suit and waves his own camera, motioning for a repeat performance.
Even Lois is misty-eyed, and she holds out a box of tissues as we move to a nearby table to finalize the paperwork.
“I’m getting déjà vu,” I comment as Harrison signs his name on the marriage certificate, thinking of the contract I signed that sent me to Ibiza.
“This time you know exactly who you’re getting into bed with.”
I take the pen from him. “Good thing you’re good in bed.”
Laughing, he presses his lips to the side of my throat as I write my name.
“We’re not quite married,” Harrison murmurs once we’re done.
“How do you figure?”
“There’s the slight issue of consummating today’s vows.”
I cock my head. “First we have a reception—”
“It’s an open bar. They’ll never notice we’re missing.”
I look at the crowd of beaming friends and family. “They’ll notice.”
He weaves our fingers together as he pulls back to escort me down the aisle.
“Giving up that easily?” I say under my breath.
“Not giving up. We have our own limo back to the party.”
“It’s a ten-minute drive to the Wynn barring traffic.”
“Oh, there’ll be traffic.”
