by Amy Daws
Marriage has never been something I’ve pictured for myself. Even when I was young, I could never see myself in a wedding dress and choosing to be with one person forever. But as the two of them recite their vows and the entire crowd of a hundred and fifty people laugh along with them when Miles mentions only knowing Kate by her pen name for the first several weeks they were together, maybe there is a perfect person out there for everyone. If Kate and Miles can get past that kind of a hurdle, maybe there could be a man out there who could give me wings instead of roots.
When the ceremony ends, I follow the crowd as we make our way to a large outdoor pavilion nestled among the trees and a nearby creek. It’s stunning inside with tented white fabric draped along the ceiling and chandeliers with Edison bulbs mixed with the outdoor lighting. The décor is an eclectic, rustic mix of fall colors with pops of plum and burgundy throughout.
I can’t help but laugh when I notice the cake topper features a little groom with a toolbox and grease all over his face standing next to a bride with her leg propped up on a tire. Very Kate and Miles.
“Norah, you’re by us,” Lynsey’s husband, Josh, waves me over with a polite smile as he feeds Julianna goldfish crackers in her high chair beside him.
I make my way over to them and glance at the beautiful knotty wood table covered in burgundy mums and candle-lit Mason jars. “I was walking around aimlessly, wondering if there was a seating chart somewhere.”
“You got stuck at the kids’ table, I’m afraid,” Josh replies with a huff.
“Nothing wrong with the kids’ table.” I sit down on the other side of Julianna and smile brightly at her. “Hi there, cutie. You did a great job as a flower girl.”
“Donut,” she calls out clearly, and my eyes widen.
“She remembers me!” I lean down to talk to Julianna some more. “Have you tried my croinuts yet? Next time you come in with your mommy or daddy, you’ll need to have some patience and take a number.”
She stares back at me like she has no idea what the hell I’m saying but then reaches toward me, and demands, “Out, out.”
“It looks like she wants out?” I ask, glancing over at Josh.
Josh nods. “If you hold her, I’ll go grab us a bottle of wine.”
“Um…I’m not really experienced with kids.” I offer her my finger to stave her off.
“You’ll be fine,” Josh says as he stands while looking around for the bar. “I was an overprotective freak when she was little, but now they pretty much bounce when they’re dropped.” He leans in with intense eyes. “We just need to make it twenty more minutes until the grandma babysitter rescue wagon arrives.”
Josh takes off like he finally has his first taste of freedom. Julianna squeals impatiently and reaches toward me. She seems determined, so I slip my hands under her arms and attempt to get her out of the high chair. Her foot seems to be stuck on something, and her dress is too poofy for me to see what exactly it’s stuck on. She gets a good grip on my hair, causing a curtain over my eyes, so I can’t see anything when suddenly a familiar voice echoes, “Need a hand there?”
I look through my mussed hair to see Dean standing over me looking…well, a lot better than I do, I’m sure. “Yes, please. She seems adamant to get out of this, and Josh apparently needed booze in a bad way.”
Dean chuckles and bends over to assist, wafting his scent all over me in the process. It’s hard to focus. But there’s a baby in our hands, so focus is probably important.
Finally, Julianna is free as she crawls into my lap and grabs her sippy cup off the table. She tucks it into her mouth and lies against my chest, clearly pleased with the seat upgrade.
Dean lowers himself onto the open seat beside me. “She looks comfortable.”
“The jury’s still out on my comfort level,” I huff out incredulously and attempt to straighten my hair while holding tightly to the small child on my lap.
Dean watches me for a moment with a slight twinkle in his eyes that gives me butterflies. “Good groomsmanning up there,” I blurt out dumbly. This feels awkward. Why does it feel awkward? He’s seen me naked for goodness’ sake.
He shakes his head, clearing whatever thoughts he had a second ago. “Technically, I was a bridesman not a groomsman.”
“Sure, sure,” I reply knowingly. “Well, you look really nice.”
“You look”—he blows air out his lips as he looks me up and down—“too good. This wasn’t the dress you sent me a picture of.”
“Rachael got a hold of me.” I smile at him and chew my lip nervously under his rapt perusal. “How was your dad?”
“My dad?”
“Yeah, your dad’s water damage or something?”
“Oh, that.” He looks away and props his arms on the table. “It’s fine. All good now.”
I nod slowly. “That’s good. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.”
“A week,” he replies instantly like he, too, has counted the days. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he watches everyone finding their tables, eating hors d’oeuvres, and grabbing drinks.
“You okay there?” I ask, tilting my head and noticing his hands are clenched into fists. He looks uncomfortable, which is unusual because Dean is usually Mr. Cool and Casual everywhere he goes.
“I’m good.” He clears his throat and sits back in his seat. “I was just thinking we should probably talk about our breakup at some point.”
“Our breakup?”
“Yeah…this is our last fake date, and we haven’t really discussed what we’re going to do.”
My lips twitch as Julianna turns to lay her head against my chest as she continues sucking on her sippy cup. “What did you want to do?” I ask hoarsely. It’s been a week since we’ve seen each other, and the first thing he wants to talk about is our fake breakup. My hands feel clammy as I clutch the baby to my chest.
Dean shrugs dismissively. “I don’t think we have to do it here in front of everyone. If we did, I think Lynsey would interject and try to counsel us back together before we’d even get out the door.”
“Oh yeah, that’s not good.” I force a laugh, but my mouth must be sucking on about eighty cotton balls at the moment.
“A quiet breakup should be fine. We can change our relationship statuses tomorrow online and let people figure it out like they did when we were first together.”
“Okay…sure,” I reply, suddenly wanting to pass off Julianna and storm off. He’s being so cold, so distant…so…mean. My heart begins to hammer in my chest as my temper rises. I clench my teeth and narrow my eyes at him. “I’m sorry, but should I even be here?”
“What do you mean?” Dean asks as he mindlessly plays with the burlap table runner in front of him.
A strange noise bubbles in my throat, and I see Julianna blinking, like she’s going to fall asleep in my lap any second now. I take her cup that’s falling from her hands and set it on the table in front of me. “Maybe I should leave early, and you can tell everyone I dumped you right here.”
Dean finally turns to face me, his brooding eyes searching mine. “Norah, what’s your problem?”
My lips pull into a sneer as I protectively clutch a sleeping Julianna to me, like I’m holding on to my own bare heart. “My problem is that I was looking forward to tonight. I played nice with your friends for the past two weeks. I went shopping and got a new dress. You know I don’t go out much, and I thought…silly me, maybe we could actually have fun tonight,” I whisper yell so I don’t alarm Julianna.
“We can have fun,” Dean balks, shrugging his shoulders casually.
“No, we can’t because I haven’t seen you in a week and sixty seconds into our first conversation, you’re talking about dumping me. I’m afraid I don’t see the option for fun anywhere in sight.”
Just then, Josh returns with an open bottle of red and a smile. “I have booze!”
“Sorry, I have to go.” I stand awkwardly because I’ve never had a kid fall asleep in my arms before yet manage to pass
off the sleeping flower girl to her father before grabbing my purse.
“Norah.” Dean says my name, but I can’t bring myself to look at him due to the really annoying knot of rejection forming in my throat. I make my way through all the wedding guests, praying like hell I don’t look as awful as I feel.
“Norah!” Dean is right behind me as I exit the glow of the reception hall and head down the gravel path toward the cars. The sun is nearly gone, and the chill in the air now matches the vibe I was getting from Dean.
A warm hand wraps around my arm and turns me around. “Come back in with me.”
“No,” I snap, yanking my arm out of his grip, a twinge of anger roiling in my belly. “What’s the point?”
Dean falters, his eyes blinking nervously behind his glasses. “Because we had a deal.”
I huff out an incredulous laugh. “Well, the deal was supposed to be fun, and this is officially not fun.”
“What do you want from me, Norah?” he asks and shoves his fingers through his hair, leaving it disheveled. “Tell me what to do here.”
Standing before me, he looks…dejected, as though he’s in pain. His eyes seem full of sorrow and confusion as they search mine for answers. I want to grab his face and tell him right here, right now that we should stay together. That we shouldn’t plan our fake relationship breakup. But he’s not ready for that. He’s forgotten what we’re like together. He’s forgotten we’re good for each other. I need to remind him. I need to show him how much fun we are together.
I inhale a shaky breath and steel myself to sound cool because this is probably the last chance I’ll have with him. “Maybe you can take a dose of your own medicine and live in the moment with me tonight. Have a little fun.” I poke him in the chest, and he rubs the spot like I used a knife to stab him. “It used to be you pushing me to have fun, remember?”
His brows lift, and the corners of his mouth twitch with mirth. “Oh, I remember.”
I step a little closer and crane my neck to look up at him. “We should probably fake kiss because everyone is watching us fake fight right now.”
He doesn’t turn to confirm the fact, which is good because it was a total lie. Instead, the humor disappears from his face, and his brows furrow as he cups my cheeks and crushes his lips to mine.
I thought it would be a playful kiss. Something light and silly…good for a show. But it’s anything but a show.
It’s fierce and possessive with a need so intense, tears prick the back of my eyes. When he finally releases me, we’re both gasping for breath, and his voice is thick when he says, “I missed you this week.”
My brows lift as that comment causes serious tummy flipping action. I chew my raw lip and attempt to come off as casual. “Did you fake miss me or real miss me?”
“Real,” he recalls, pain creasing his features with that admission.
“Okay then,” I huff, my heart thumping with hope that I scarcely allowed myself to have before.
“Okay then.”
I pull back for some fresh air, staring into his dark eyes. I want to confess everything to him right here, right now. Can he see how badly I want to be with him? How much I want to make this more? I clear those thoughts out of my head because I don’t need to plan right now. I need to be in the moment.
A smile teases my lips as I grab his hand and pull him back toward the reception. “Let’s go have some fun.”
Kate and Miles know how to throw a party. We drink, we eat, we laugh. Between Miles’s fellow mechanics doing beer chugging competitions by the creek and a few of Kate’s smutty romance author friends singing karaoke, I manage to have the best time I’ve ever had at a wedding.
And I forgot how much I love to dance with Dean. The two of us dance like no one is watching when, in fact, everyone is watching. There are at least a dozen people who drunkenly stumble up to us and slur, “You two are next.”
And instead of it completely freaking either of us out, we just laugh and roll with it because it feels good. On the surface, I suppose we are faking, but deep down, we’re as real as it gets. The more fun I have with Dean, the more I don’t know if Dean and I were ever truly faking it these past few weeks. You can’t fake chemistry like this, right?
Dean even drives my car from the reception hall to his place like we’re a real couple. And when we park, he opens my door, grabs my hand in a waffle hold, and pulls me into his house.
The second we’re inside, his lips are on mine, tasting, teasing, and stirring me into a frenzy of desire. My purse thuds as it drops to the floor, the sound of him undoing the zipper of my dress as he kisses my shoulders is the best aphrodisiac of my life.
I shimmy out of the dress and move in to kiss him again, but he stops me, holding me by my shoulders as he reverently stares at my black lace lingerie set. He swallows slowly before picking me up, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist, and carries me upstairs to his bed.
My lingerie and his clothes end up on his bedroom floor. When we’re both completely naked, he lays me down in his bed that smells like him and kisses me everywhere. He whispers my name against my skin, over and over, like he’s trying to commit this moment to memory.
So am I.
It was a great night after our little spat, which says a lot about us as a couple. We could hear each other in the moment, voice our concerns, and move past it. To this.
“I’m on the pill,” I croak, sitting up to stop his hand as he kneels between my legs and prepares to unwrap a condom.
He pauses and looks at me seriously. “Okay?”
I shrug nervously. “We could…go without…if you want. I trust you. Do you trust me?”
He takes a deep breath and bites his lip, nodding once like it hurt him to admit it.
“Okay then…no condom,” I confirm and reach out to take the rubber from his hands and toss it to the floor.
Dean slowly moves over me, his bare tip gliding against my wet slit as he groans a needful sound and positions himself at my entrance. “Are you sure?”
I cradle his face in my hands, pull his glasses off, and set them on the nightstand so I can see his eyes more clearly. “I’m sure.”
He stares directly into my eyes as he slowly pushes inside me. So slow, so tender, so sweet. The lack of a barrier is something we both have to adjust to…it feels different. Exposed. Bare. Honest.
“Dean,” I gasp, my hips undulating beneath him with need for more.
“Norah,” he says, pulling back and thrusting slowly inside again. “You feel so good.”
“Oh God,” I cry, my hands wrapping around his body as my fingers dig into his back. He feels so good up against me. Like he fits. Like we fit. It’s a bizarre feeling because for years I’ve only cared about my work and the bakeries and being successful. I never wanted to be tied down to anyone because I wanted to take over the world. Dean makes me feel like I want to stay in this moment with him, forever. It’s too much. It’s all too much.
“I’m close,” I exclaim, my thoughts racing along with the sensations in my body.
His grip tightens on my hip as he stares into my eyes. “I’ve never done this with anyone before.”
“Me neither.” I grip his nape and hold on for dear life.
He thrusts again. “Only you, Norah.”
I nod my agreement.
“Only you,” he repeats before both of our bodies seize with a frenzied need to chase this climb we’re both experiencing.
He crushes his mouth to mine as my hips pump up to meet him thrust for thrust. Our breaths are a tangled mix of hunger and passionate desire. The sensation is so intense it doesn’t take long for us to shatter and explode into the dark abyss.
Everything about this moment feels right…natural…real. So real, I never want it to stop.
A light snore wakes me, and as my eyes begin to open, I feel a soft grin tug on my lips as I recall the fact that Norah is in my bed, in my arms…snoring. I relish the weight and heat of her body sprawled over mine. She’s usi
ng my chest as her pillow, and the warmth of her breath causes goose bumps to pepper all the way down to my toes, awakening my already growing cock.
I lightly run my hand down her back, caressing her soft skin, hating the fact that this is my last morning with her.
Nuzzling my nose into her hair, she begins to stir on top of me. “Are you awake?” she croaks, squirming and making my dick pulse.
“Just woke up,” I reply, forcing myself to stop sniffing her like a fucking caveman. “How’re you feeling?”
She groans into my chest. “Awesome. And maybe a little sore.”
I can’t help but smile. “We did go a week without it.”
She lifts her head to prop her chin on me. “That’s a record for us.”
My brow furrows as that comment forces reality into this bed. There will be no more records for us to set because this is it. This is the end.
I bring my hand to her face and brush my fingers along her cheekbone, trying to commit her features to memory; I’m going to miss it. I’m going to miss her. I miss her already, and she’s literally naked on top of me.
The corner of her mouth twitches into a grin. “What are you thinking about right now?”
“You’re the perfect woman.”
Her face splits into a wide smile. “You’re such a suck-up.”
“It’s true,” I admit honestly and push my hands through her hair. “You deserve to know it.”
I pin her with a serious look because I want her to believe me. I want her to hear me and know she can have anyone she wants…if that’s what she wants. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’d be okay with her living her life as a nun because the idea of another man seeing her like this guts me.
Her forehead creases between her brows as she pulls away to sit crisscross and face me. She tucks the white sheet to her chest and replies, “You’re…pretty incredible too.”
I shake my head slowly. “No really, I’m not.”
“You are too.” She laughs and pokes my leg that’s sticking out of the blanket. Her cheeks flush a ruddy color as she adds, “Actually, I was going to see if you maybe wanted to come with me to my TV interview in Denver on Saturday.”
