She turned serious. “We don’t have to use a condom, Noah. I have an IUD. I was with Mitch for five months and no one at all for three months before him.”
He shook his head. “I want to get tested first to be safe. I’d never forgive myself if I have something and gave it to you.”
“Have you really been with that many women?”
Some of the happiness left his eyes. “Yes. I’m not proud of it, but I realize now I was searching for this—for what we have. Only I went about it the wrong way. Not one of those women meant even a fraction of what you mean to me.”
“What about Donna?”
He brushed a stray hair from her forehead. “Donna was a very poor substitute for what I thought I couldn’t have. You.”
“But why were you so sure you couldn’t have me?”
“You shot me down, Lib. Remember? Right before you proposed to Mitch.”
Her face grew hot. “We had both been drinking and I thought . . .”
“That I was just hitting on you. Yeah, I know. To be fair, I wasn’t really sure what I was doing. Only that I craved you in a way I didn’t understand.” He tilted her chin so he could look into her eyes. “Honestly, if we had hooked up then, I don’t think it would be this. What we have now. I wasn’t ready yet. Does that make sense?”
“Perfectly. I don’t think I was ready yet either. You’ve inspired me.”
He laughed. “Are you going to photograph me naked?”
“That’s not what I was talking about, but hold that thought.” She climbed out of bed and dug through the bag Gram had brought her, emerging with her camera bag.
His eyes widened. “You’re serious.”
She unpacked the camera and gave him a mischievous grin. “We can swaddle you like Tito if you’d like.”
“No fucking way.”
She laughed again and attached a lens. “I won’t take photos of your celebrated manhood . . . or at least not many photos. After all, we’ve toasted it, so we should capture it in its glory. But those will be just for me.”
“Does that mean I get to photograph your breasts?”
She shrugged. “If you’d like.”
“You’re serious?” he asked in disbelief as he rolled onto his back.
“They’re only breasts. It’s not like you’re going to show them around to all your buddies, are you?”
“God, no. I don’t share well.”
She flashed him another grin as she stood up and moved to the window. Bright daylight flooded the room when she pulled the drapery to one side. She turned to study him. “I knew the morning light would work well with your angles.”
“Is that photographer dirty talk? Because it’s working.”
“Be a good boy and I’ll tell you all about ISO speeds.”
“I knew it was dirty talk. You’ve given me a hard-on.”
She snorted. “You already had one.”
“It doesn’t take much. All I have to do is think of you.”
“Down boy. No condoms. Remember?”
“It’s all I can think about.”
She laughed. “Roll onto your side and prop up on your elbow. Yes. Just like that.”
He held the pose, looking up at her. “Libby, my manhood’s hanging out in all its glory.”
She held up her camera to frame the shot. “Your manhood’s not in the photo. I’ll let you know when it is.”
For the next twenty minutes she had him pose in multiple positions. With each shot, she got more and more excited. After she and Noah had had their disagreement over her engagement, she’d lost all spark for her art. But now it was back full force. Noah was her muse. “The camera loves you, Noah.”
“I’m more interested in the photographer loving me.”
“She does. Especially since you’re the perfect model.”
“So you’re basically just using me for my body.”
“Do you have a problem with that?”
“God, no. But if you’re going to take photos of my manhood, you’ll never find it more impressive than it looks now. You have no idea how sexy you are photographing me, both of us naked.”
She laughed as she sat down next to him. Leaning in as if to kiss him, she instead held the camera sideways and took several rapid-fire shots of his crotch.
“Hey!” he protested.
“You told me to,” she said with a sly grin. “Besides, you’re right. It’s very impressive. And oh so tempting.”
He kissed her slow and gentle, his teeth nibbling her lower lip. It was impossible to imagine being happier than she was at this moment. Could life really be like this?
Noah took the camera from her and slowly pushed her back onto the bed. He guided her onto her side, her back to him as he lifted the camera to his eye.
“You do realize you can’t see my breasts,” she teased, looking over her shoulder at him.
“I don’t want to take photos of your breasts with your camera.” He snapped several shots as he moved around her. “That’s for my phone. And my eyes only.”
He took several more shots before she leaned back against the pillows. “Get your phone. If you’re going to photograph my breasts, do it now before I shower.”
He slid off the bed and dug around in his suit jacket, then pulled out his phone. “Oh, shit. My phone has blown up in the last twelve hours.”
“Why?”
He stood and scanned the screen. “Gram.”
Libby sat up, her breath catching with worry. “What about Gram?”
“She tweeted a photo of us at the chapel.”
It took Libby a moment to put it together. “Megan and Blair saw it.”
“Yeah.” His voice was tight.
“Why do you sound so upset?”
He sighed and put the phone on the nightstand. “You need to call them.”
Anger simmered in her chest. “Why are they upset? Because they weren’t invited?”
He sat on the bed and picked up his phone again, opening his Twitter app. “You need to see the tweet, Lib.” He handed her the phone and she looked at the photo on his screen.
It showed the two of them in their wedding attire with Tito in his costume behind them—diaper, wings, and harp.
Oh shit.
“They’re pissed at me, and they’re worried about you.”
“Why?”
“Look at it, Libby.” He held the phone up in front of her. “They think we got drunk and I took advantage of you.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. You’ve been like the poster boy for anti-marriage.”
“Well, maybe they think you only married me because of the curse.”
“Why would they be angry with you?”
He shook his head and took several steps toward the bathroom before turning around to look at her. “Because no matter what I do, I will always be the sleazy bastard.”
Libby stood. “Noah.”
Some dark emotion covered his face. “I’m going to take a shower.” He went into the bathroom and shut the door. The water turned on seconds later.
Her temper raging, Libby grabbed his phone and scanned his messages. Megan and Blair had both sent him texts accusing him of taking advantage of her. They clearly did not take her marriage seriously.
Undecided on who to call first, she settled on Blair, who answered on the first ring. “You have some explaining to do, McMillan.”
“He doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”
“Libby,” Blair said, sounding surprised. “Why are you calling from Noah’s phone?”
“Because I left mine at home. Remember?”
“Gram was supposed to bring it to you.”
Well, shit. It was probably in her purse, although it was undoubtedly dead. “Look, it doesn’t matter which phone I’m using. What matters is you’re harassing my husband.”
“Libby, listen. I think we can get it annulled.”
“Why would I want to get it annulled?”
“You’re obviously not th
inking clearly. I saw the photo of your wedding. Did you get married in a circus? How drunk were you?”
“I wasn’t drunk at all, not by the time we got to the chapel anyway.”
“So you’re admitting there was alcohol involved? That’s good. We can use that as evidence.”
Libby groaned. “Blair, what do you want?”
“I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I was fine until Noah found the texts from you and Megan.”
“What did you expect us to do? You wouldn’t answer your phone.”
“Here’s an idea—how about you try congratulating me?”
Blair was silent for a few moments. “Libby, I know you’re confused right now. I know you believed in the curse, so I’m sure you jumped at the chance to make it come true. Especially with the bad influences around you.”
“You mean Noah.”
She remained silent.
“Okay,” Libby said, her voice tight. “So let me get this straight. You think I was so desperate to make the curse come true, I would have married anyone who came along.”
“You were going to marry Mitch.”
“Only because I expected my soul mate to show up.”
“Like that sounds any better? Are you listening to yourself? You didn’t even know who it was. So then you married Noah.”
“I love Noah.”
“You love Noah,” she repeated in a monotone. “Since when? You two are friends, like two rule-breaking kids who’ve found a co-conspirator in each other. You never once said you thought Noah was your soul mate. When did you figure this out? Last night when you were drinking? Everything’s so much clearer when you’re drunk.”
“I thought you were my friend, Blair.”
“Believe it or not, I am.”
“No, you just want to lord it over me.”
“What does that mean?”
“You and Megan love that I’m the irresponsible, head-in-the-clouds, screw-up friend. That way you both can feel superior to me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?’
“Libby.” She sounded irritated. “You have a pattern, and if you would just hop off the Libby whirlwind express for a moment and take a breath, you would see it too. You never handle a breakup well and you always make some stupid decisions you regret later. That is exactly what you’re doing now.”
Fear bubbled in her chest, stealing her breath. Blair was right about her previous breakup behavior. What if she was right about this too? But there was no way in hell she’d let Blair know she’d gotten to her.
“Libs”—Blair’s tone softened—“I love you and I don’t want to see you get your heart broken again. Noah is a user. He’ll take what he wants and move on. If he doesn’t cheat on you first.”
“How can you say that?”
“You know he never stays with one woman for more than a week. And yeah, I know he was in a month-long relationship with that woman in Seattle,” she said dismissively, “but that only proves my point. He’s in a relationship with some woman and then he just up and marries you? It won’t last.”
“I’ve had my own share of men, Blair. I’m not exactly the Virgin Mary.”
“True, but you were always looking for love, deep down. He’s just looking for his next lay.”
“So if Noah is just looking for his next lay, and we both know I’m an easy conquest, why did he marry me?”
“I didn’t say you were an easy conquest.”
“Why did he marry me, Blair?” she repeated with more force.
She paused. “I don’t know yet. I’m still trying to figure out his angle.”
“Well, figure it out without me.” She hung up and scowled at the phone in her hand, wishing she could throw it against the wall. Megan would want to hear from her too, but she couldn’t deal with her right now. Especially since the claws of Blair’s accusations were sinking deeper and deeper into her head.
What if Noah got tired of her? The feelings she had for him were so much deeper and more intense than anything she’d experienced before, but what if it wasn’t the same for him? There was no denying he was a good friend. Could he have married her, in part, to make her feel better? And worse, what if this was just another of Libby’s many desperate attempts to find someone to love her?
Was she really that pathetic?
But then she thought about everything she had shared with Noah, both before and after their wedding. She could trust Blair or she could trust Noah. Which one would it be?
The temptation to go to him swept her into the bathroom. He was leaning against the wall of the shower, his forehead buried against his arm. His hair was wet and water dripped down his muscled back. He really did have the face and body of a god. No woman had ever held enough of a lure to keep him for very long. Why did she think she could?
He heard the door open and looked up, anguish on his face.
Who did she choose to trust?
Staring into his eyes, it was really no choice at all.
She stepped into the shower and pulled his mouth to hers, pressing her body against his chest.
His arms were around her back, pulling her close, his mouth hungry and desperate to claim hers. His hands were everywhere and so were hers—seeking, demanding, begging, claiming. He grabbed her ass and lifted her against the shower wall, entering her as she clung to him. There were no words; their bodies said everything that needed to be said. She came quickly, Noah following right behind her. She buried her face against his chest, still shocked that he was really here with her. That he was hers.
She would believe what she held in her hands, the proof in front of her eyes.
Her friends could go to hell.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Noah,” Libby murmured against his chest, then looked up into his eyes. “I’m so sorry about my friends.”
Her words sent a new jolt of fear through him. He stiffened and started to pull out of her and put her down, but she locked her legs around his back and tightened her hold on his neck.
“Don’t shut me out. Please.”
The fear in her voice caught him off guard. He rested his forehead against hers and her body relaxed.
“I love you. I don’t care what they think.”
He shook his head. “They’re your friends. Of course you care what they think.”
“I’ll admit that Blair infuriated me and hurt me with her judgmental attitude . . .” Her voice wavered. “But she doesn’t run my life.”
“In their eyes, I will never be good enough for you. They will always be waiting for me to fuck up so they can tell you I told you so.”
She flashed him a tiny smile. “That will be a lot harder to do with them in Kansas City and me in Seattle.”
“I can’t ask you to give up twenty-five years of friendship for me.”
She grabbed his face and looked deep into his eyes. “Don’t you see? You’re not asking me to choose. You’re giving me the freedom to make my own choice. Blair sees me as an incompetent toddler incapable of making a responsible choice.” She took a breath. “I don’t think I can ever become the responsible person I want to be because it still won’t fit in with their vision of a responsible adult. They’re always judging me against their standards.”
“Libby. I can’t be the person who comes between you and your friends.”
“Don’t you hear what I’m saying? You aren’t coming between them and me. They are coming between us.” She kissed him—a gentle brush of her lips against his—her touch full of so much love it took his breath away. “I love you, Noah McMillan.”
“And I love you, Elizabeth Gabriella St. Clair McMillan.” He forced a grin. “You never told me your name is Elizabeth.”
Something flashed in her eyes. Doubt? Did it bother her that he had hadn’t known her real name until their wedding? “You never asked. I hate it. It’s so stuffy.”
He kissed the corner of her mouth. “You’re much more of a Libby to me. My Lib.”
She closed her eyes. “Yes, your Lib.”
His hold on her tightened. He was surprised by the possessiveness rushing through him. He’d thought he would feel more secure about their relationship once they were married, but he was more worried than ever. Now he was aware of what he risked losing.
Her eyes opened and he stared into their rich brown depths. Would he really get to stare into them every day for the rest of his life? The hope and contentment that thought gave him calmed his soul.
“Let’s finish washing up, then get breakfast,” she said, grinning. “I’ve worked up quite an appetite.” Her hold loosened and she was sliding down his body, slow and sultry, when a new horror hit him.
“We just had unprotected sex.”
She shook her head dismissively. “It’s okay. I already told you I have an IUD.”
“No, it’s not. I wanted to get checked out first. God . . . Libby . . . I’m sorry. I should have been more responsible.” Then it hit him. Maybe he would never be responsible enough to be a good husband. He wasn’t sure he could bear it if she joined the long list of people he’d failed.
“Noah. Stop.” She said it with more authority than he was used to hearing from her. “You’re my husband.” The smile she gave him was so sweet and soft his throat tightened. “We can have sex without condoms. But if it makes you feel better, we’ll use them until you know for sure, okay?”
Her words soothed the sting of his pain.
“I love you. Please don’t feel any guilt about making love to me. It doesn’t belong there.”
“Okay, but we have to use condoms until I know.”
She grinned. “I won’t let your manhood near me until it’s sheathed. But to be safe, perhaps I should get a chastity belt.”
He kissed her again, pressing her against the shower wall as a tidal wave of love and gratitude overcame him. She always knew just what to say to pull him from his dark places.
“Give me your shampoo,” she said. “I’ll wash your hair.”
They were more subdued than usual as they washed each other. The overwhelming fear he’d still lose her was almost enough to drown him. Here in this moment, it was easy for her to want to stay with him. But what about when they got back to real life? When her friends were with her in person? They’d always see him as a fuckup.
The Wedding Pact Box Set Page 85
