by Cassie Cross
“I’ll take her,” Cole said with a smile.
Sara stood and bounced her daughter on her hip as she walked over to where Cole and Abby were sitting. “You want to see your Uncle Cole?”
The second Sara laid her daughter on Cole’s chest, she stopped crying.
“My son, the baby whisperer,” Olivia said, almost reverently. “I wish I had someone like you around when you were a baby.” She reached for her wine glass, and brought it to her lips.
Cole’s hand was rubbing soothing circle’s on baby Alex’s back, his eyes meeting Abby’s, as if he wanted to offer her some kind of reaffirmation that he was serious about what he’d said to her earlier. If she’d had any doubt that he was sincere then, that doubt would’ve been long gone in this moment; the way he was looking at her made a warmth spread out all the way to her toes. She reached over and pushed a strand of hair off of Alex’s forehead, then cupped Cole’s cheek and gently pressed her lips against his.
“So,” Sara said, watching Cole and Abby with her daughter. “Where are the two of you going on your honeymoon?”
Abby exhaled, feeling a familiar frustrating knot coil in her stomach. It always seemed to reappear whenever this subject was brought up. “I don’t know,” she admitted, trying to sound like that fact didn’t irritate her as much as it did. “Cole won’t tell me.”
“Why does that not surprise me,” Olivia replied, laughing.
“What exactly are you trying to imply, Mother?” Cole asked, feigning offense.
“I’m implying that you, my dear, come from a long line of Kerrigan men who like to surprise their women.”
“Scott did the same thing to me,” Sara said, smiling at her husband before giving him a peck on the cheek.
“He was going to take you to Iowa,” Tristan said to Sara. “I talked him out of it; you’re welcome. I did the same thing for you, by the way,” he said, winking at Abby. She couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“Where did you wind up going?” Becca asked.
“Venice.” Sara looked over at Scott, grinning at him as he gently squeezed her knee. “We had a private villa right on the water. There was this wraparound balcony; it was beautiful.”
Cole leaned in until his lips brushed against the shell of Abby’s ear, making her shiver. “We’re not going to Venice,” he whispered. She could feel his smile, which made her smile too.
“I know,” Abby replied. Even though she didn’t know where they were going, she did know that wherever it was? She wasn’t going to be disappointed.
CHAPTER SIX
COLE WAS up late, way past the time when everyone had retired to their rooms for the evening. He’d spent the past hour tossing and turning, not the least bit tired and completely unable to will his body to calm down the the point where he would be able to get even a little bit of sleep. He felt wound-up, on edge in a way that he knew would result in a restless night. His heart was pounding, heavy with anticipation. Resigned to the fact that he’d probably be up for the rest of the night, Cole threw the covers off the bed and swung his feet around until they were resting on the floor.
He figured that making sure he had everything in order for tomorrow might quell his nerves a bit, so he stood and walked over to his closet and pulled out his slacks, checking to make sure it was wrinkle-free and presentable. He opened the lid to his laptop, going through email after email to make sure that he’d made all the reservations he’d needed to for their trip to Paris. Cole smiled when he thought of Abby stepping out of their limo and looking up in wonder at the Eiffel Tower. He pictured the look of delight he’d see on her face when they shared a fresh-baked baguette while they walked along the Champs-Élysées. He wondered how she’d react when he told her that he’d called in a few favors and had arranged for her to spend the afternoon working with a world-renowned French chocolatier.
He wanted to give her the world, but he’d start with Paris.
After he had checked the flight plan and made sure that his plane would be ready for takeoff late Sunday morning, he turned to his dresser and picked up the small white box that sat atop it, a gift—made special for sentimental reasons only—which he planned on somehow giving to her before the ceremony tomorrow.
After double-checking and triple-checking every single thing, Cole was still restless, sitting on the edge of his bed, the balls of his feet tapping impatiently against the cool hardwood floor. He knew why he couldn’t sleep, and there was most likely nothing he could do to ease the ache tonight.
He couldn’t sleep without Abby at this point. After having her beside him in bed for so long, he struggled. Even on business trips he had to steal one of her pillowcases so he could have something that smelled like her nearby. When he’d told her that, she smiled; she thought it was cute. There wasn’t anything cute about it in his opinion. It was simply necessary.
He wanted Abby. He couldn’t sleep without her, couldn’t function without her.
They’d only said goodnight to each other an hour ago, and he’d kissed her then, like it was the most important thing he could do tonight, like it was the most important thing he’d ever do. But it wasn’t enough.
It wasn’t quite midnight yet, he still had a few minutes.
So, tradition be damned. Cole walked out into the hallway and opened the door to Abby’s room.
Then he stepped inside.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ABBY COULDN’T sleep.
She was a bundle of nerves tonight, and the one person who could calm her down was the one person she wasn’t supposed to see until morning, when he was standing at the latticework altar next to a judge and with a ring in his pocket, waiting to marry her. She’d checked and rechecked her bags, making sure she had everything Cole told her she’d need for their trip, even though she had no idea where exactly it was they were going. She carefully put out her makeup on the vanity table in the far corner of the room, spacing out her brushes meticulously.
A few minutes ago she’d walked the hallway, stopping at Cole’s door before thinking better of knocking on it. If she went in there, she wouldn’t want to leave, and they’d both promised his mother that even though they were having a small, untraditional wedding, they’d stick to one tradition and not see each other after midnight. She didn’t want to break the first promise she’d ever made to Olivia Kerrigan. No good could come of it.
So, she’d gone to Becca’s door instead, knocking and knocking to no answer. Thinking that she was probably somewhere with Tristan put a smile on her face, but it didn’t ease her jumbled-up nerves.
She missed Cole terribly, which was ridiculous considering she’d seen him an hour ago and he was only a few doors down. She’d see him again in the morning, and every morning thereafter for the rest of their lives. What was a few hours without him? It should be nothing, but right now it felt like everything. She wanted to laugh at herself; just this afternoon she’d promised Becca that she and Cole wouldn’t become one of those married couples who couldn’t stand to be separated for even the smallest amount of time. They weren’t even married yet and already it seemed like they were one of those couples.
It was strange, this anxiety Abby felt with Cole not being there beside her. She should be a little used to it by now. They spent plenty of time apart these days, what with both of their businesses thriving, but tonight seemed different, since everyone in this house came here specifically to watch her and Cole pledge to spend the rest of their lives together. It felt odd that they were in separate rooms.
Abby got up to splash her face and maybe wash her hands, hoping that the warm water might soothe her frazzled nerves. She stood at the sink and turned on the faucet, running her fingers under the water, waiting for it to heat up. Seconds later, Cole stepped into the bathroom. Abby wasn’t even surprised to see him there, somewhere deep inside, she’d even hoped he’d come.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, taking a step forward, until he was standing behind her.
When Abby looked up, she coul
d see his reflection next to hers in the mirror. She offered him a soft smile, one that let him know that she understood exactly what he was going through. It always seemed that whatever one of them felt, the other felt too.
Cole placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close to him, then he placed a soft kiss on her shoulder. He slid his lips across the nape of her neck, then moved on to the other shoulder, making goosebumps break out across her skin.
“I missed you,” she said, feeling him smile.
He slid his knees between her legs, letting her know that he wanted her to open up to him. She was pretty grateful at that moment that she was wearing nothing but a pair of undies and a short pink camisole. His hand slipped below the silk, cupping her breast as his thumb slipped across her nipple.
“It’s almost midnight,” Abby whispered, even though at this point she really didn’t care what time it was. All she could focus on was his hands on her skin and how much she wanted to be with him like this, always. “You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.”
Cole grinned wickedly, sending shivers down Abby’s spine. She knew that look; in fact, she did whatever she could to make him wear that look as often as possible. “Do you have any idea what I can do to you in ten minutes?”
Abby slid her fingers down Cole’s forearm, which was draped across her chest as his hand continued to work her nipple, and glanced at his watch.
“Eight minutes,” she breathed.
“Even better.”
“Being quick at this is never a good thing.”
Cole inhaled through his nose, a sure sign that he was accepting that challenge. “Never say never,” he said, his lips brushing the shell of Abby’s ear. He gently pulled her earlobe through his teeth before he spoke again. “Speed occasionally has its benefits.”
He pinched her nipple, knowing just how to get her going, and she arched into him, grinding her ass against him, feeling his hardness pressed and throbbing against her back. His other hand snaked its way down her belly and across her hip, sliding beneath the delicate lace of her panties until he was cupping her. Cole’s fingers slid and teased, slipping against the wetness between her legs, flicking and rubbing, knowing all the spots that drove her crazy.
Abby reached back and fumbled with the waistband of Cole’s boxers—the angle was absolutely terrible for what she was trying to accomplish—just wanting, no, needing to touch him. He tutted at her, shaking his head as he took her hand and pressed it against the cool marble vanity, twining their fingers together so that she couldn’t (and wouldn’t) move again. She sighed, because he was always doing this, always denying himself to focus on her. It drove her crazy in more ways than one.
Cole’s fingers were still working, still teasing her clit, driving her higher and higher. Her breaths were ragged and she was ready to fall apart, practically begging for it. Cole withdrew his hand and pushed down his boxers just as Abby was getting ready to come. She started to protest but she didn’t have to wait long, because soon she felt the tip of his cock lined up against her, right where she wanted him the most, and she tried to push herself back into him, just needing him inside her already. She hated waiting, and he always seemed to want to make her do just that.
Cole pushed her hair over her right shoulder, his chin coming to rest in the crook of her neck. She loved the feel of his stubble against her delicate skin, and his mouth was right there. She could feel every breath he took, and every exhale made her entire body buzz.
“Look at me,” he said, and she met his gaze in the mirror. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, the way his soft, pink lips pressed against her ear, the way his hand possessively splayed across her breast. She could hardly breathe for wanting him so badly. Apparently, he had the same idea.
“Do you have any idea how much I want you?” Cole whispered, a low rumble right in her ear.
If the hardness he’d settled between Abby’s legs was any indication, then yes, she had a pretty good idea. She nodded, letting the corner of her lip quirk up into a half-smile, and he laughed, a rumble she could feel against her shoulder blades.
“Just the thought of a night without you sent me in here with the need to touch you. I can’t bear not being with you.”
“You don’t have to bear it,” she said, reaching back and threading her fingers through the soft hair at the crown of his head. “I’m always with you.”
Cole held her tight, completely flush against him. “Promise me,” he asked, his voice like honey over rough sand and soft, so soft.
She brought their twined fingers up to her mouth, then pressed a kiss to his thumb. “I promise.”
With those two little words, he pushed inside of her, making her gasp.
The sex was frantic and hurried, more about lust and desire and need than intimacy and tenderness. They were both chasing release, satisfied by the simple act of being close, as close as two people could possibly be. They took pleasure where and while they could, Abby’s hands braced against the vanity, palms splayed to give her some leverage as she tried desperately to keep herself upright. Cole kept pounding into her, building this growing current inside her as he pressed one hand low across her belly, thrusting toward it, reaching this place that she didn’t even know existed. But Cole found it; he always seemed to find the places that made her feel so, so good.
Stars danced behind Abby’s eyelids and she had to focus on her breathing as she felt her climax overtake her in quick, tight waves, making her squeeze against him. Cole rubbed her clit, fucking her through her orgasm, trying to prolong it, nearly making Abby’s knees give out. She knew he was close so she spread her legs a little wider, gripping his forearms which were wrapped around her waist, clinging to her like she was a life raft on the open sea. His tendons constricted beneath her palms—he was trying so hard to stay in control—but soon Abby bucked back against him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to withstand the sudden change in movement. It was then that he finally let go, head sagging, forehead against her neck, sighing her name as he spilled into her.
When they had both come down and their breathing had steadied, Cole turned Abby and held her close, kissing her with a reverence that she found difficult to reconcile with the way he’d just fucked her, all needy and possessive, right here against the counter. She looked positively debauched: hair tousled, camisole all rumpled from where Cole had gripped it between his fingers. The sight of her must’ve done something to him, because he kissed her again, long and slow and deep, his tongue gliding against hers as he held her so tight. It was a kiss that was the direct opposite of what they’d just done. This kiss was slow, unhurried. Perfect.
When Cole pulled away from Abby, he nuzzled the crook of her neck, sliding her hair between his fingers. “I’ll see you in the morning,” he whispered.
“I’ll be the one in the white dress.”
“White, huh?” he teased.
Abby laughed, gently swatting Cole’s ass as he walked away from her.
He closed her bedroom door right as the grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight.
ABBY STOOD in front of the mirror in the bathroom the next morning, looking at her reflection. Her minimal makeup was set and ready to go as Becca stood behind her, twining her hair around the barrel of a scalding-hot curling iron.
“Never thought I’d be attempting to do beach waves while I was at an actual beach, which is stupid, I admit.”
Abby laughed, looking down at her pale pink nails and the gorgeous engagement ring on her finger. Today Cole would slip another ring on that finger. Today she’d marry him; she still couldn’t believe it. Tomorrow she’d be jetting off to some unknown destination, the first day of her new life that probably wouldn’t be all that different from her old one, apart from the fact that she’d be starting it with a new last name.
Abby Kerrigan.
She looked down at the counter and smiled, a light blush creeping up her cheeks.
“I don’t even want to know what happened in here last n
ight that keeps making you look like that,” Becca said, peering over Abby’s shoulder as she curled another strand of hair.
“Oh, like you’re one to talk. I went looking for you last night and you were nowhere to be found.” Abby shot her friend a skeptical look.
“I didn’t have sex with him, if that’s what you think.”
“I don’t think anything,” Abby replied, grinning. “But I told you that you’d like him.”
Becca shrugged in that familiar way of hers that let Abby know that she didn’t want to tell her that she was right.
“All done,” Becca sighed, patting Abby on the shoulder.
Abby walked out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, towel wrapped around her body as she looked in the full-length mirror. Her hair was long and wavy, makeup light, lips pink and glossy. She felt understated and comfortable and beautiful. Unfussy. She looked and felt exactly the way she wanted to on this day.
“I should put on my dress,” she said, turning to look at Becca.
Becca walked over to the closet and pulled the dress off of its hanger. It was a light, airy thing, so lovely. Abby found it while she was looking through a vintage shop in the city. It was made of silk cotton and embroidered lace. It was kind of flouncy and flowing, reaching just below her knees, with a mother of pearl waist that made such a simple dress look so elegant.
Becca helped Abby slip it over her head, careful to avoid flattening her hair. Once she had it on, Abby stepped back and looked in the mirror.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Becca said, her voice barely a whisper. There were tears in her eyes, and Abby found it difficult to fight the ones that were welling up in her own. She was marrying Cole; she had absolutely nothing to be sad about. The thing is, she was trying so desperately to avoid thinking about how she’d give anything to have the one person who was missing here with her.
Her mother.
Becca, of course, knew exactly what she was thinking. “She would’ve loved this, you know. This whole thing,” she said, sliding her fingers along the pearls that lined Abby’s waist. “This is exactly what she would’ve wanted for you; everything she didn’t have. She would’ve loved Cole.”
