by Kati Wilde
“I’ll be quick,” I reassure her, tipping her chin up until she meets my eyes. “I want to be sure there’s nothing else in the way of our clean start. Is there anything we still need to say?”
“Just one thing,” she tells me, reaching up to cradle my face in her hands. “I love you, Caleb Moore.”
A tangle of sweet emotion knots my in throat. Just one thing. But it’s the only thing that matters. And it’s all that needs to be said. So I kiss her once more, then let her go.
The next time I kiss her, she’ll be my wife.
13
Audrey
Here is what happened the first time: I walked through the elevator doors, and the sight of Caleb Moore standing in the wrong place threw me so off-kilter that I didn’t even dare to look at his face. He unbalanced everything.
Here is what happens now: I walk through the church doors, and Caleb Moore’s fascinating face is the only thing I let myself see. Because everything else in the church is off-kilter, the symmetry just a little bit off. Not the pews on either side of the aisle that are filled with our friends and the people who care about us, not the decorations or the architecture of the church itself. But up ahead, Reverend Foster waits at the altar and Caleb stands to the right side, his dark eyes locked on mine. Yet on the left side, there’s nothing. Just an empty space that is so, so wrong.
Until Caleb holds out his hand. When I take my place beside him, the whole world rights itself again.
But it’s not the same world it used to be. This world seems…unreal. As if it’s a dream. And I’ve felt like this for almost two days now.
This is a world where people love me. So nothing is familiar—not even myself. Because this woman that people love…I’m not used to being her. The past two days I’ve had the strangest sense of being disconnected from my own body, as if all this love that surrounds me belongs to someone else. Yet I don’t think Caleb’s wrong about how my friends feel. I simply had to open my eyes to the possibility that it was true, and when I see my friends’ deep and genuine happiness for me, I think that it must be. So every minute spent with Mia, Jeremy, and Jessica while preparing for the wedding ceremony has been filled with the amazement of this discovery, which continually seems new and surprising. Perhaps one day it will finally sink in.
But knowing that Caleb loves me…I don’t think the wonder and amazement will ever fade. It might always feel like a dream.
At least everything feels real as he takes my hand. He’s absolutely beautiful in the formal morning suit that he opted for over a tuxedo, each piece perfectly tailored to his tall, muscular form. And the way he looks at me with so much awe, so much desire, so much love burning in his eyes…
“Audrey, baby,” Caleb murmurs, lightly squeezing my fingers, his brown eyes full of laughter now. “Come back to me.”
Whoops. I hyperfocused on his fascinating face. But who wouldn’t, if Caleb looked at them like that?
Filled with sheer joy, I grin up at him. “My rubber band didn’t go with this dress. What did I miss?”
“Only the sermon,” Reverend Foster says dryly. “But you rarely listen to those anyway. I’ll email it to you.”
Perfect. “So are we married now?”
“Almost.” Caleb’s fingers tighten on mine, his voice deepening. “We still have to say the vows.”
The vows. They are why I prefer a marriage contract to this ceremony. I can’t easily tell whether people are speaking the truth, or if they mean something other than what they are saying. But a contract with terms that are explicitly spelled out allows less room for ambiguity or misunderstanding. So signing that agreement felt more binding than words spoken in ways I might not fully perceive.
But that was only until Caleb spoke them to me.
No ambiguity lurks beneath the raw emotion thickening his voice as he promises to honor and cherish me. There’s no way to misunderstand the depth of the devotion in his warm gaze as he vows to forsake all others. And the truth of every word lies naked upon his beautiful face when he swears to love me as long as we both shall live.
Even if he hadn’t said the words on Saturday night, I’d have known he loved me today. I couldn’t have made any other possible interpretation when his vows are written so clearly in his every word, his every look, his every touch.
The unadulterated force of his love fills my own heart achingly full as I repeat the vows—and he knows so well that I can’t lie. That I mean every word I say. On this day, I would have revealed myself to him, too.
But there’s nothing left to hide when Caleb cradles my face in his big hands. When he reverently kisses my lips.
When he becomes mine, and he makes me his.
I don’t know what to call the emotion that crashes over me then, but I’m dizzy with it as Caleb takes my hand and leads me down the aisle. A car is waiting outside to take us to our reception at the Clement Hotel, which is only a two-minute drive from the church—yet I intend to make the most of every second alone with him.
Caleb must have the same intention. His strong arms haul me into his lap and he hungrily feasts from my mouth, then he groans when his callused palms slide up the bare skin of my back.
“Fucking hell, baby. Wedding dresses aren’t supposed to be this goddamn hot. You know what all your naked skin did to me when you turned around at the end?”
I’m sitting on what it did to him. Smiling against his lips, I say, “I wore it because I want to dance with you again.”
And my dress is a floor-length white silk version of the backless red dress that I wore to the mayor’s cocktail party last week—and our reception is in the same ballroom. All I want to feel is Caleb holding me close again, his hand against my bare skin.
“We’ll dance, baby. Just hope that I don’t end up losing my head and fucking you in front of everyone.”
I won’t hope too hard. I slip my fingers down the length of his wedding tie, then trace the edge of his dark green waistcoat, a color perfect for a Christmas wedding. “I like your suit. It’s just like you—a little old-fashioned and a lot sexy.”
“You can thank Jeremy for picking it out. Shit, we’re almost there,” he swears as the car begins to slow, kissing me again. “How flexible is your schedule today? Can we skip out of this thing early?”
“Oh, Caleb,” I tell him softly, because he’s still so innocent in so many ways. “As of this afternoon, you are Mister Audrey Motherfuckin’ Clarke—which means we can skip out whenever we want. I’d like some cake before we go, though.”
His eyes narrow. “You know your assistants’ nickname for you?”
“It’s my nickname for me. I told Jeremy and Jessica what it was when I hired them, so there weren’t any misunderstandings about exactly who I am.”
“So you give yourself a badass name, yet I get stuck with the same ‘marshmallow’ that I had as a kid?”
“Are either of those names wrong?” I dare him to say they are.
He laughs, shaking his head. “No, baby. Except for the part where I’m soft.”
“I can tell,” I murmur huskily. His thick erection is a steely length beneath me—a length that will soon be inside me. My inner muscles clench with anticipation. “I love you…my husband.”
A possessive gleam lights his eyes. “I love you, my wife.”
That dizzying emotion sweeps over me again, a whirlwind that lifts me off my feet until I’m flying, strangely disconnected again from this woman who is so loved. Yet at the same time, I’m right here with him—holding his hand as we make our way to the ballroom. Aside from the staff catering the event, we’re the first to arrive, so I lead him through the maze of dinner tables to the center of the room. Turning me to face him, his hand possessively slides down my naked back before he pulls me close.
Someone must have alerted the string quartet, because we’ve only swayed together for a few moments when a sweet melody begins playing. Yet the only rhythm I feel is the one beating in his chest, where my hand rests over his heart. The
only music I hear is the devotion in Caleb’s deep voice when he murmurs “I love you” against my lips.
More guests arrive and we continue dancing. Jeremy and Jessica didn’t plan a reception that would force me to stand in a line, greeting people and shaking their hands. And it’s Christmas Eve, when attending a long social event might be more stressful than fun, especially for those with holiday preparations or family at home, so no one has to wait for dinner or cake or pictures or speeches. The buffet and bar are open, one of the cakes is sliced, the dancing has already begun—and if all they want to do before leaving is pick up the gift bag I’ve provided for each guest, they are more than welcome to.
I wouldn’t know they were here, anyway. There’s only Caleb, holding me so close while sheer emotion sends me spinning and soaring, looking down at myself in his arms.
But there are speeches, of course. And friends to laugh with—and a cake to cut.
Nothing ever tasted sweeter than Caleb’s kiss after I feed him that first bite. Nothing ever made me hungrier than the look in his eyes when I lick lemon buttercream from my thumb—until he takes my hand and licks the frosting from the tip of my second finger. I’m so much hungrier then.
So is he. His gaze is utterly ravenous as I rise up onto my toes and murmur against his mouth—“My panties are so wet.”
Primitive need flares across his expression before he kisses me—a kiss that clearly takes all of his strength to pull away from. His voice is a soft growl as he says, “We’ll take the rest of your cake to go.”
Jessica’s already prepared for this. I barely get out the request for a to-go slice before she hands over a bag containing a square bakery box, my purse, and phone. “The top tier. Plus everything else you’ll need that isn’t already married to you. I’ll call and let them know you’re on your way up.”
Emotion swells up through my chest, so big and bright. “Thank you. And I love you,” I tell her even as Caleb takes my hand and begins pulling me toward the exit. “Jeremy, too. You’re both wonderful and I’m so happy to work with you. Tell him I said so.”
“I will.” Her dark eyes glisten and her smooth, buttery voice has scratches in it. “We love you, too, boss.”
Then I’m flying again, dizzy with so much love—while laughing and almost running to keep up with Caleb’s long strides. But we’re going the wrong way.
I tug on his hand. “The elevator’s in that direction.”
“And the lobby’s in this direction.” His eyes are a fevered gleam. “It’s a four-hour drive to your lodge. I can’t wait that long, so I’m getting us a room.”
Laughing, I tug him toward the elevator again. “I already thought of that. Everything’s ready to go.”
He instantly changes direction. I look into the bag for the key card that’ll give access to the top levels, and practically hear his teeth grit in frustration when other hotel guests board the elevator at the same time. An older couple glances at our clothes and offers their congratulations, and I suspect that if not for their presence, we’d have consummated our marriage in the elevator.
As it is, Caleb doesn’t even notice my call button selection until the car has emptied. “Which floor is ‘RF’?”
“The roof,” I say, pulling him forward as the doors open. “Because I don’t want to spend four hours driving to the lodge, either.”
Only thirty minutes pass before the helicopter touches down in front of my cabin, the blades whipping up a small blizzard of powdery snow. Waiting for us is the small team of personnel who came up earlier today with our luggage and to prepare the house for our arrival. They’re flying out as soon as we fly in—so I’ll have an entire week utterly alone with Caleb.
With my husband. A word that means so much more than I imagined, now that we’ve spoken our vows.
Leaving the helicopter, Caleb doesn’t let my feet touch the ground, cradling me in his arms as he carries me to the front door. His silent laughter shakes through his chest when he looks up at the cabin. Warm light spills through the windows on the upper and lower levels, welcoming us in. “It’s never what I expect.”
With my arms linked around his shoulders, I ask him, “What isn’t?”
“This place. I was expecting a ski resort. Not a cozy log cabin.”
“Do you want a ski resort?”
“No, baby.” His voice deepens as he continues up the porch steps. “I just want you.”
He’s all I want, too. His warm lips fasten over mine as he carries me over the threshold, kicking the front door closed behind him.
“The bed’s in the loft,” I tell him between soft, panting kisses.
That’s where he finally sets my feet down, though his mouth never leaves mine. Standing in front of a crackling fireplace, he slips my coat from my shoulders while I tug at his tie, his collar. My dress slithers to the floor in a puddle of white silk. A moment later he releases the jeweled comb from my hair, and the long strands tumble out of their elegant twist to curl over my bare shoulders.
Almost naked already, but I’m still working on his shirt buttons. I laugh against his lips. “You have the easier job.”
“I’ll finish it. Just keep kissing me,” he commands gruffly, and I do. Cupping his beloved face in my hands, I rise up onto my toes and keep going, higher and higher, spinning but this time I don’t get so far out of myself, as if the dizzying emotion is finally sinking in and settling beneath my skin—but it’s light, so light, and so big that I still feel as if I might float away if I wasn’t holding onto him.
“Audrey.” A pained groan rumbles from his chest. “What is it? Are you hurt?”
Because tears are slipping down my cheeks. “No. I feel…I don’t know.”
“Happy or sad?”
“Happy. So happy.” But I’ve been happy and this isn’t the same. “More than happy. More than everything.”
“I know, baby.” Strong fingers cradling my jaw, he gently kisses my lips. “It’s the same for me. Ever since you said you loved me. And this whole day. I thought it was so damn perfect—first marrying you in front of everyone, and then celebrating with our friends. Everything was pretty fucking amazing. I didn’t think I could be happier. But it was just…like the spiked punch at the wedding. Because when I’m alone with you, it’s like drinking straight from the bottle. It’s so much stronger.”
Pure, undiluted emotion. So powerful that we’re dizzy and drunk on it.
“So much stronger,” I agree on a whisper, then rise onto my toes again.
His mouth claims mine only for an instant before he groans and backs away. “Just give me one second. One second to look at you like this, so I can always remember it.”
Standing in the firelight, wearing only my panties. His gaze devours me, but I’m just as entranced by the sight of him. While kissing, he managed to get everything off except for his dark trousers, and those are unbuttoned with the suspenders hanging loose from his hips. The aggressive bulge of his cock tents the fine wool. His ridged stomach contracts with every ragged heave of breath, his broad chest and powerful shoulders stacked with muscle. He’s so big, so tall…and all mine.
And I never want to forget this, either—the way he looks now. The way he looks at me, his face flushed with arousal and his heavy-lidded eyes inflamed with desire. Nothing has ever been sexier than the way he slowly drags his lower lip between his teeth when his focus drifts downward, as if already anticipating the taste of my nipples…and lower. As his gaze pauses on my panty-covered pussy, I can’t stop my thighs from squeezing together or my whimper of need, because his reaction is everything. Hunger and tension seem to battle within him, a war between his need to look and his need to touch, his big hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, his muscles like corded steel.
Hoarsely he says, “I just can’t believe you’re mine, Audrey. I’m the luckiest bastard in the world.”
I laugh, my heart swollen so full. “At least one of us needs to believe this is real.”
His fiery gaze
meets mine again. “What’s not real to you?”
“That I can be loved like this,” I confess shakily. “I feel like it all must be happening to someone else.”
Instantly the war that waged within him seems to cease. As if his battling desires no longer pull him in opposite directions, and everything within him abruptly focuses on…me.
Without another word, Caleb comes for me, crossing the distance in a single powerful stride. His left hand wraps around the nape of my neck and he pulls me into a devastating kiss, shattering my senses with every deep, hot lick between my lips. As if he means to consume me alive, to drown me with pleasure.
As if he means to destroy any doubts about who this is happening to.
My trembling legs barely support my weight when he abandons my lips. Desperately I cling to his shoulders as he bends me back over the iron band of the forearm he wraps around my waist, lifting my breasts to his mouth. With a growl, Caleb lowers his head to feast. Like a man possessed, he lavishes his attention on my nipples, suckling and licking the taut peaks, the force of his hunger almost painful but too sweet to run away from.
Far too sweet. Like the exquisite ache building inside me, the ache that isn’t a hurt but just need, need, need. Frenetic desire that transforms my clinging hands to fists that clench in his short hair to tug and demand. That changes the breathless chanting of his name to a desperate plea, begging for him inside me.
But Caleb has no mercy, dropping instead to his knees. No longer demanding, the grip I have on his hair becomes my strongest anchor against my husband’s sensual storm. Strong fingers hook into the waistband of my panties. His dark eyes lock with mine as his warm breath penetrates drenched silk.
In a rough voice, he says, “Let me tell you what’s happening to you, Audrey. I’m making love to you on our wedding night. Not someone else. Because I’m so in love with you.”
