by Kayla Wolf
Thankfully, Hannah seemed to sense that the awkwardness was rising—before he knew it, she was back, buzzing happily around them and chattering on about how excited she was for this next big step for the two of them. She led them down to the bag check, where Jasmine pointed out her suitcase, and Bryce lifted it effortlessly. Hannah murmured something to Jasmine, who giggled and nodded—Bryce hoped it was complimentary, whatever it was.
He stowed the suitcase safely in the trunk of his car, and then the three of them got in, Jasmine in the passenger seat beside him (he tried not to stare at her too much) and Hannah giving directions from the back to a little chapel in town that would be used for their unofficial wedding ceremony.
“You’re most welcome to use it for the official ceremony, too, when you get there,” she said brightly as they pulled into the driveway of the little church. “They’ll even give you a cheeky discount if you mention how you met. The church has a close relationship with ‘Forever-Now’.”
It was quiet in the chapel—just the three of them, and a bouquet of pink roses that matched Jasmine’s dress perfectly. Humming, Hannah lifted one of the roses from the bouquet—it had a much shorter stem than the others, and he realized why as she popped it into the pocket of his shirt. Jasmine smiled up at him, and he tried to smile back, his heart pounding. He’d never been in a building like this.
Hannah gave a brief speech—more of an explanation of the terms of their arrangement than anything, but the somber tone of her voice gave it an oddly ritualistic quality. There were no vows for either of them to recite, no declarations of love—just a commitment to treat one another well, to live as husband and wife, to put as much trust and faith in one another as they could, and to see what their month together would bring.
“Now, no pressure,” Hannah said, her eyes twinkling as she reached the end of the ceremony, “but would you like to kiss the bride?”
Bryce looked down at Jasmine, whose cheeks had flushed the same pretty pink as the rose in his pocket. The truth was, he’d like nothing more than to kiss the bride… in fact, a significant part of him had a lot more in mind than just kissing. But there was something about the tension in Jasmine’s hands where she was holding the bouquet of roses, the way her eyes flicked away from his, just briefly… so he just reached down to press a kiss to her forehead. Her hair smelled of sandalwood, and he resisted the urge to inhale too deeply.
”Beautiful,” Hannah said softly, smiling at both of them. “And congratulations to the happy couple!”
Chapter 6 – Jasmine
She was a married woman. Jasmine thought that sentence again and again, trying to get used to it as she sat in the passenger seat of Bryce’s car. More like a truck, really… it was a serious vehicle, clearly designed to be as comfortable off a road as it was on one. She supposed that working in construction like he did, it was important to have a car like this—but it wasn’t exactly what she was used to, living in the city like she did.
Well, she didn’t live in the city any more, did she? It had been surprisingly easy to deal with her apartment. Elena had helped her list her furniture on Craigslist for sale, even screened the callers to make sure no weirdos got through—a range of very pleasant people had come through one by one to collect her couch, her bed, her dining table, all her shelves and side tables and bits and pieces. Bryce had told her his house was fully furnished—what would have been the point of hanging onto any of the stuff? She’d considered putting it all in storage, just in case the experiment went poorly, and she wanted to come back to Denver immediately, but Elena raised an eyebrow at that.
”Are you sure you’d come back here? You hate it here.”
She had to admit... it was true. Elena was probably the only thing that was really good about the city. She’d wound up there because that was where the best job offer had been, but if she was going to leave, she wanted to stay by the beach. So she’d decided. If things with Bryce didn’t work out, she’d move to Los Angeles. There’d certainly be no shortage of high-profile people in need of personal assistants there, right? There’d be bound to be someone less awful than Grant. And even if there wasn’t… at least she could spend her weekends on the beach instead of huddled in her bed reading romance novels.
Romance novels… like the one she was living right now.
Then again, she hadn’t read too many romance novels where the man had been as awkward as Bryce had been when he’d met her. When she’d locked eyes with him across the crowded terminal, he’d almost seemed to freeze. She’d put her bravest face on, of course—she had no shortage of experience pretending to be completely comfortable in stressful situations—but her worry just kept growing. He seemed so—distant. She couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head… he spoke in such short bursts, so tensely. Was he just nervous about meeting her? She hoped so… but a part of her was a little worried that it was her size.
God, Grant had really gotten to her, hadn’t he? She’d been doing so well with her self-love kick… and now, after just a year working for that jerk, she was second-guessing how attractive she was. She’d seen herself in the pink dress, she knew she looked like a goddess. But the way Bryce had frozen up when he’d met her made her worry. Was he expecting a thinner woman? Was her plus-sized body a problem for him, some kind of deal breaker? She tried to think back to the photos that Elena had put on the app, wondering how many of them had been full-bodied shots that really showed her in all her curvaceous glory. What if they’d just been head and shoulder shots? What if he’d been expecting a size ten? Had he gotten twice as much as he’d bargained for?
Then he could tell her himself, she decided resolutely, settling herself more comfortably in the passenger seat of the car. She wasn’t going to entertain the notion that she was anything less than gorgeous… and if he decided he had a problem with her size, well, that was his loss. But still… it would be disappointing if that was his problem. She hoped it was just the newness of the situation. He seemed like a good guy if a little distant… and the way he’d pulled her super-heavy suitcase from the conveyer belt like it was light as a feather, that had gotten her going in a major way. Hannah had seemed to sense it—she’d turned to whisper something rather scandalous in her ear about potential other uses for that great strength that had made her giggle.
The ceremony had been rather somber, but lovely. She appreciated the lack of a legal bind between them—there was still so much getting to know each other to do, and the added pressure of a legal contract wouldn’t have eased either of their nerves. When Hannah had suggested they kiss, she’d frozen up. Whether Bryce had sensed it, she wasn’t sure, but she’d appreciated the way he opted for a more chaste kiss on the forehead... even if it did make a treacherous part of her wonder if he just wasn’t attracted enough to her to think about kissing her.
Because god—she certainly found him attractive. Like Elena said, he was her exact physical type. Somehow the photos hadn’t even done him justice. He was a full foot taller than her, even in the low heels she’d worn to match her dress (a little extravagant for a plane, maybe, but it was technically her wedding day after all.) And god, he was so strong! His whole body was bulging with muscles—it was a wonder the dark shirt he was wearing could take the strain. And there was nothing artificial about them… she sensed that this wasn’t a guy who spent hours at the gym, honing and toning himself. This was all functional strength. Looking at him, she knew for a fact that he could pick her up with ease… and there was something about that that made her whole body tingle.
So they had chemistry, at least. But what about all the rest?
”I’ve made a reservation at a restaurant here in town for dinner, if you’d like?” Bryce said, breaking a long silence. She cleared her throat, realizing she’d been lost in her thoughts for what felt like ages.
“Sounds great. I’m starving.”
There it was again—that prickle of self-consciousness, fear of being judged. Would he judge her for what she ordered? Woul
d she look up from her meal to catch that look in his eyes—that mingled look of pity and scorn that usually accompanied comments like ‘Eating like that is why you’re the size that you are…’ She shook those thoughts off, frustrated that she was even thinking them. This trip really was stirring up a lot of her old demons.
He pulled the car up outside a Mexican restaurant, his blue eyes flicking over to her as a grin spread across her face. “My favorite! You must’ve read my profile,” she beamed.
”Several times,” he replied, ducking his head a little—was he shy, or avoiding her eyes? They headed inside, where there was a table waiting for them. This felt more like what she was used to… a sit-down dinner, a chance to get to know each other. They ordered drinks and appetizers, and she pinned a thoughtful gaze on the man sitting across from her.
”So. I’m your wife.”
”And I’m your husband,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet hers.
”Pretty weird.”
”Very weird,” he agreed, seeming to exhale. “Okay. Good. I was worried I was the only one who thought—“
”Are you kidding? This is ridiculous. I mean, I’ve read books about it, but I never thought…” She took a deep breath, smiling. “I never thought I’d be brave enough to actually go through with something like this. It’s pretty wild.”
”I’m so glad you did,” he said simply, and she felt a warm glow spread across her chest. But then his eyes slid away from hers, as though he thought he’d overstepped a boundary there. “How was… the trip? How was moving?”
”Oh, fine. My best friend helped me get rid of my furniture and get a new tenant for my apartment, so I didn’t have to pay for breaking the lease,” she shrugged, thinking fondly of Elena. She’d sent her friend a few texts from the car, but she hadn’t replied yet. Probably asleep… or trying to worm her way inside the cyber defenses of a major bank. It was always hard to tell with Elena. “Aside from her, I didn’t have many friends to say goodbye to… oh, and I quit my job.”
”You didn’t tell me much about your job,” Bryce said, tilting his head. His blue eyes were steady, his body still. A good listener, she thought with approval… or at least, good at pretending to be a good listener. The true test would be whether he remembered what she told him about herself. But still, having spent as much time as she had around a man like Grant, who talked about himself nonstop, it made a refreshing change to chat with someone who actually wanted to hear about her.
“I’m a PA. Personal assistant. I pretty much… do whatever my boss needs me to do. Terrible old bear,” she muttered.
”Bear?” His eyes widened in shock. She smiled up at him, not sure if he was messing with her.
”That’s what we call him.” She hesitated. “It’s a nickname. He’s not… I don’t literally work for a bear.”
”Oh.” Bryce’s body relaxed, and he laughed. “Right. Sorry.”
”I think working for a bear would be better than Grant, honestly,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “At least a bear’s happy if you give it enough fish and a nice cave to sleep in. Grant’s impossible to please.” She chuckled. “And he was not happy when I gave him my notice.”
“He’ll miss you.”
”Oh, no. That would require him to actually appreciate the work I do for him. No, he was just angry that I had the audacity to quit before he could fire me. He yelled at me over the phone for ten minutes solid before I hung up—then tried to call me twenty times until I stopped picking up.” She shuddered a little, thinking back to that day—it had been a week ago. Her intention had been to give him two weeks’ notice and keep working until he could find a replacement for her, but he’d made it abundantly clear that she wouldn’t be welcome back at the office again. So she’d booked her flight, shrugging it off. His loss.
Bryce’s face was stormy. “He yelled at you?”
”Yeah, he’s that kind of guy.” She tilted her head to the side, a little charmed by how offended Bryce seemed to be on her behalf. “You look like you want to fight him.”
”I’d fight him,” Bryce said immediately. “If he ever yells at you again—”
”I won’t give him the chance.” She smiled, reaching out to take his hand on impulse. He blinked, clearly surprised by the gesture. “But it’s nice, knowing I have you in my corner.”
”Well. What else are husbands for?”
”I can think of a few things,” she said mischievously, letting a smile curve her lips upwards. And the look on his face was priceless.
They spent a very pleasant evening eating Mexican food and talking. Well, Jasmine did the bulk of the talking. She tried to steer the conversation over to Bryce a few times, but he answered her questions in short sentences before turning his attention back to her. Was he hiding something? She’d never been on a date with someone who seemed this genuinely interested in what she had to say. And at the end of the meal, he paid despite her protests, physically holding the bill out of her reach when she attempted to swipe at it.
“Now,” Bryce said as they headed for the doorway. “My place is about a four hour drive from here—or there’s a hotel room that Hannah booked for us.” Was he blushing? Was her stoic new husband actually tensed about this? “It’s your choice.”
”That’s a long drive,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “And I love hotels.”
The hotel was only a few blocks from the restaurant—this had been well planned, she thought with a smile. Hannah was good at her job. The late fall air was cool but not cold, and to her surprise, Bryce slipped his hand into hers, the warmth of it chasing away the chill of the air. It wasn’t long before they were checking into their room… and a broad grin broke out across Jasmine’s face as she looked at it. Champagne, rose petals… the whole place looked like something out of a rom com.
Bryce looked a little worried. “There’s only one bed. I can talk to them—if you don’t want to share a bed—“
”Do you not want to share a bed with your wife?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. They’d had a few margaritas with dinner that had done an excellent job of muting her concerns about Bryce not being attracted to her. She moved a little closer, intruding on his personal space, smiling a little at how much she had to tilt her head back to look up at him. He was returning her gaze, clearly picking up the signals she was trying to give him.
”Of course I do,” he said softly… and then, so suddenly she almost didn’t realize it was happening, he’d scooped her into his arms. It was everything she’d imagined—the powerful arms around her, the way he bore her effortlessly up, as though she weighed even less than her suitcase… before she knew it, she was sitting on the dresser, and finally, she was at a good height to close the distance between them and claim his lips in a passionate kiss.
This close, she could smell the scent of him… was it cologne or just his natural musk? Either way, it was intoxicating… touches of salt and sea air, as well as a rich, masculine smell that was all him. His lips against hers were surprisingly soft, but strong—she heard herself moan a little as he pressed his tongue into her mouth, a little taken aback by the passion he’d been holding back. And she’d been worried he wasn’t attracted to her… it was clear those fears had been misguided. One of his hands was cupping the back of her head, his fingers carding through her hair, touching it with reverence even as the other hand roamed across her back, down around her waist, exploring the curves and valleys of her body. She’d usually feel self-conscious about a near stranger touching her like that, but for some reason, all she could think about was kissing him, feeling those soft lips against hers, against her cheek, her throat, the hollow of her ear…
She kicked off the shoes she was wearing and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her even as she started on the buttons of his shirt. It was a nice shirt, and though she was sorely tempted to rip it, she didn’t want him to have nothing to wear the next day… so she forced herself to be patient. And god, the sight before her was worth the wait… she b
roke the kiss and held him at bay with her hands flattened against his shoulders, gazing at his broad, muscular body. He was built so powerfully… the physique of a powerlifter, not a bodybuilder, the functional strength that had allowed him to lift her so effortlessly onto this dresser… but he was looking at her worriedly as she held him back from her.
”Are you okay?”
”I’m more than okay,” she murmured, a dazed grin on her face. “Look at you.”
”Look at you,” he corrected her, pushing her hair back and cupping the side of her face with one powerful but surprisingly gentle hand. “You’re…” But a strange reluctance came across his face… and instead of finishing the sentence, he claimed her lips again in a kiss. She couldn’t exactly complain about that—her curiosity about the guarded look on his face soon dissolved in the wake of the feelings he was awakening in her. God, their chemistry was explosive. It wasn’t long before they were both breathing hard. He’d tugged the zipper on the back of her dress down, and his hands were roaming freely across her skin, lighting fires as he went. And there was plenty of her to touch. It was a big part of what she loved about her bigger body—there was just so much more to worship.
She’d picked out her nicest set of lingerie for her wedding day… that morning, it had felt a little strange, but now she was pleased by the effect it was clearly having on the gorgeous man before her… the way his breath caught as he gazed down at her voluptuous figure, decked out in black lace and satin... and who could blame him for the reverent way he kissed her throat, her chest, her belly? After all… he was only human. And Jasmine shut her eyes, fighting back a moan as his lips found their way to her sex… the wet heat of her already soaking through her black lace panties. He teased at the fabric with his lips and teeth, tugging it this way and that, clearly enjoying the way she whimpered and moaned as the fabric caught against her all-too-sensitive nether lips… and then he’d pulled the crotch of the lingerie aside and was devouring her with evident enjoyment.
