More Than Us

by Renee Ericson

  I smile at my future in-laws and then turn my attention to Evelyn, who is currently in a state of giggles over something my father said to her. I love the way my family has completely taken to her.

  Mrs. Cunning sidles next to me, looping an arm through mine. “She looks happy, Foster. More so than I ever thought she could be.”

  “She does, doesn’t she?”

  “It’s because of you. It’s easy to see that.”

  I pat her hand. “Thank you.”

  FOUR

  Evelyn

  In the car, on our way back to the hotel, after an uneventful and pleasant dinner with our parents, I text back and forth with my man of honor, Wolfgang. He’s my closest friend, and he has always supported my relationship with Foster. I truly feel that, without him, I wouldn’t be the person I am today.

  Me: Are you all checked in?

  Wolfgang: Yes. I was even able to swindle a bottle of champagne from the front desk. The super fancy kind.

  I laugh to myself. I’m happy he likes it. He has no idea that it’s a gift from Foster and me, and I plan to keep it that way.

  Me: Awesome. We’re on our way back from dinner now. Would you like to meet up at the bar for a drink?

  Wolfgang: Would you hate me if I passed and just saw you in the morning? The flight killed me. I need my beauty sleep in order to best cater to my queen tomorrow.

  Me: No problem. Jet lag is a bitch. Get some rest, and we will see you in the morning. Love you.

  Wolfgang: Don’t party too hard, minxy lady.

  I stuff my phone into my purse and then lean back into the seat.

  Foster caresses my thigh. “Everything good?”

  “Yes. Wolfie is settled in and will meet us in the morning. I also got a message from Chandra, and she said that she and Jeremy landed about an hour ago. They are going to check into the hotel, and we will just see them tomorrow.”

  “What about Gerard, Caroline, and his parents?” he asks, inquiring about my longtime family friends and his wife.

  “My mother mentioned to me at dinner that they arrived this morning and would be joining us tomorrow, too. Have you heard from Graham or Parker?” I question, referring to two of his closest friends.

  “They both should be arriving before midnight. I checked their flight statuses while you were texting with Wolfie. The plan is for us to meet them in the morning with everyone else.”

  I sigh, snuggling into Foster’s shoulder. “So, it looks like it’s just you and me then.”

  “You poor thing,” he kids. “What is a girl to do? All alone with her fiancé.”

  “It’s a tragedy of epic proportions. How will I cope? There must be some sort of support group.”

  “There’s no help for you.”

  “You’re so loving and romantic.”

  “Somebody needs to be.”

  When the car reaches the section of the resort where our room is located, it comes to a stop, and Foster and I step out into the evening. As the driver pulls away, Foster tows me toward the ocean.

  I guess we aren’t going back to the room yet.

  We remove our shoes when our feet hit the sand and pad our bare feet across the soft beach to where the tide is heading out toward the oyster-colored moon. As we head further down the stretch of sand, the lights from the resort begin to fade into the distance.

  We continue to walk. Foster doesn’t say a word, and neither do I.

  “What are you thinking about?” I finally ask, breaking the silence.

  “That tonight is our last night together like this.” His feet slow. “Tomorrow night, we’ll be separated after dinner, and then after that, the next evening that we spend together, we’ll be married.”

  My breath catches. “I haven’t thought of it like that.”

  Leaning down, nudging my ear with his nose, Foster says, “Your days as a single gal are coming to a close.”

  “And you can say good-bye to being a bachelor. The ball and chain will soon be in full force.”

  “Yes, weighing me down like an anvil—”

  “Into blissful oblivion.”

  He chuckles. “That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

  “I knew it. See how good I’m going to be at this wife thing? I’m already finishing your sentences.” I twirl like a silly schoolgirl. “I’ve got this happily ever after bit mastered.”

  “I think you had too much espresso at dinner.”

  I dance around him. “Or I’m high with delight from being in your presence.”

  “Your ego-inflating bullshit is quite impressive this evening.”

  “Thank you. That’s a compliment, coming from you.”

  Foster swoops his arms around my waist, picking me up off my feet and securing my body to his chest. “I love you.”

  I relax into him. “I love you, too.”

  Lowering my feet to the ground, he turns me in his arms, so we are face-to-face. Foster presses his lips to mine and passionately kisses me, instantly changing my playful mood. There’s too much sincerity and love on his mouth for me to feel anything other than close to him in this moment. Tightly embracing me, he flirts with the exposed skin at my back and then begins lower the zipper of my dress.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, breathy.

  “Kissing you.” Foster touches his lips to the pulse point on my neck. “A lot.” His tongue tickles the space behind my ear. “As much as this single gal will let me.”

  “Are you trying to sow those wild oats in your remaining time as a bachelor?”

  “It’s highly probable. I haven’t run a full analysis on it, but I speculate that there’s a ninety-nine percent chance that the statement is true.”

  “Run those numbers, baby,” I sigh.

  Foster nibbles at my shoulder, sending erotic sensations through me. “Consider them ran. Besides, I only like to get wild with you when it comes to my oats.”

  “Your oats can have their way with me.”

  “So generous of you.”

  “I hope you are willing to return the favor.”

  “Stop talking, Evelyn.” Foster skillfully unzips my dress fully. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”

  “Equal opportunity orgasm-fest.”

  “You’re talking.”

  “I ca—”

  Foster slams his mouth to mine, sweeping away my breath and stealing my heart for possibly the thousandth time since he’s come into my life. He slips the straps of my dress from my shoulders. I shudder when gravity takes the garment to the ground, and a rich sea breeze floats across my newly bare flesh. My fiancé’s palms trace up my spine and unlatch the lacy bra.

  “Foster,” I breathe, raising my chin to give him more space for his mouth to roam along my neck.

  A sudden flash of panic races through me, thinking that someone might catch us, but it quickly calms. I have faith that Foster would have ensured we were out of sight from prying eyes. He’s nothing but discreet in all things.

  “No talking, Evelyn.” He eases the bra away from my body and tosses it aside. “Are you going to help me, or do I have to do all the work?”

  Not uttering a response, I push the jacket from his shoulders, help him out of his shirt, and then make quick work of pushing his pants to the ground where they join the rest of our clothes. Caressing my lower back, Foster nudges me backward until gently laying me on the velvet-textured beach.

  Foster hastily shimmies my panties down my legs and then takes off his boxers. He dots kisses up my form and over my belly, and then he pays special attention to my breasts before sealing his mouth to mine once again.

  He stops kissing me and raises his head, shifting his eyes all over my features.

  Foster requested no talking, but the word, “What?” slips from my mouth.

  “I’ll never forget the first day I met you when you walked into the library, dressed in that leather skirt and rock band T-shirt. I thought you were so sexy.”

  “Tight leather often has that effect on the ma
le brain.”

  “And then you spoke.”

  “Hey!” I cry in mock protest.

  “And I became…intrigued.”

  He grins shyly, and my heart melts with the tenderness of this moment.

  “You made it impossible for me not to fall in love with you, and it’s going to be impossible for me not to love you forever.”

  I palm the side of his face, his stubble tickling my skin. “Fozzie.”

  “Always.”

  Without another word, Foster slowly enters me, filling me with himself and his outpouring of love. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his chest as he continues to rock into me with his gaze never leaving my own.

  No words are spoken.

  There is no world, only this moment created between us.

  FIVE

  Foster

  I wake before the morning alarm to the sound of the ocean just beyond our room. We left the sliding glass door slightly ajar last night, listening to the waves in the background.

  Evelyn’s arm is draped over my bare chest, and her slender fingers are curled around my ribs. I adjust my head on the pillow and gaze at her peaceful features while she slumbers. I study the shape of her mouth and the arch of her brow—everything that is her. I’m such a goner when it comes to this woman.

  I could look at her all morning, but we have things to do and places to be. So, I hum Darth Vader’s theme song, “The Imperial March.” That should get her eyes fluttering soon enough.

  More than halfway through the tune, Evelyn blinks and then squints as she finally wakes up.

  “Morning,” I say, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Sleep well?”

  Evelyn stretches her limbs like a cat. “Were you humming Star Wars music?”

  “Maybe.”

  She eyes me. “Was it that Darth Vader song about his death breath?”

  “I plead the fifth.”

  “Well, that answers that. What time is it?”

  “Time to get going.”

  “Ugh.” She pouts and scoots under the covers, hiding her face from the world with only her light-blonde hair streaming out over the pillow. “I don’t want to.”

  “Evelyn…” I try to lift the duvet from her head, but the woman has one hell of a death grip on it. So, I join her under the sheets and poke at her deliciously tight abs. “Let’s go get wet with everyone.”

  “That sounds dirty.”

  “We hear what we want to.” I’m able to pry the white cover from her head. “C’mon, let’s go. We’re going to be late.”

  She grunts, flings off the bedding from her nude body, struts around the bed, and hovers over me with her arms crossed. Her nipples are especially perky, and now, my dick is hard. Great.

  “This kind of sucks.” she harrumphs.

  “What does?”

  Pointing at my suitcase next to the door, she says, “That. I’m going to be all alone tonight.”

  “Dreaming about me, I’m sure,” I tease, addressing her fake little hissy fit. Then, I pull her down onto the bed with me. “It’s tradition. Think of it like your final alone time before I demand sex from you every single night for the rest of your life.”

  “Is that right? Like it’s my wifely duty or something?”

  “Like you would complain.” I squeeze her scrumptious ass. “But you should rest up tonight. I’ve been nice these past couple of days, knowing what’s to come, and neither one of us will be able to walk after our honeymoon.”

  “That sounds strangely enticing.” She giggles when I grab at her sides.

  “I’m fully aware of what you like.”

  “Yes, you are, Mr. Blake.” She kisses me on the nose, hops out of bed, and then practically prances into the bathroom, disappearing behind the closed door. Opening it back up, she peeks past the threshold and says, “You’d better hurry up and get in here. We’ll have to shower together if we don’t want to be late. If we are, I’m telling my mother you’re to blame, and you know how much she likes to stay on schedule.”

  I hop out of bed and quickly make my way into the bathroom. There’s no way I’m going to pass up the chance to rub Evelyn’s sexy-as-hell wet and lathered body. If she gets clean in the process, so be it.

  When I enter the bathroom, the shower is already on, and my fiancée is immersed under the stream of water. I open the glass door and join her.

  “The thought of pissing off my mother is motivation for you?” she asks, passing me the soapy loofah before reaching for the shampoo.

  I point to my morning wood. “Trust me, your mother is the last thing on my mind right now.”

  “Aw, he’s saying good-bye to me.” She squirts some shampoo onto my head and then begins to massage my scalp with her fingertips. “I’ll miss you, too, big guy.”

  “Please don’t personify my penis. I don’t need you secretly drawing googly eyes on it and snapping photographs while I’m asleep.”

  “It’s not like I would hang them on the wall.” She turns around, and I scrub her back.

  “Oh, well then, by all means, go right ahead.” I give her the loofah and turn around, so she can reciprocate the washing. “What was I thinking?”

  “Just remember, it was your idea.”

  “The best ones usually are.”

  We finish showering and then get dressed for the day. Exiting the room, I roll my suitcase behind me, and Evelyn shoots playful daggers at my luggage. She’s just making a show.

  After checking my bag with the concierge to be delivered to my room for the night when it is ready, Evelyn and I meet our friends and family, who are waiting for us in a seating area just off the main lobby.

  Evelyn

  My palms are sweating.

  All our friends and family are here to celebrate with Foster and me, and a strange anxiety has struck me in the gut. I’m not usually one to shy away from the spotlight, but having our relationship on display is like putting our love in a fishbowl. Not that I don’t want to shout my affections from the rooftops, but the way I feel for him is an intimate and personal emotion.

  Is it selfish to want to keep some things private?

  All I want to do is get married, be with the man I love, and live happily ever after with a lifetime supply of whipped cream for our extracurricular pleasure times. Maybe add the occasional chocolate sauce. A cherry might be nice, too, but it brings on too many clichéd jokes, so I might opt for a strawberry instead. Or, better yet, throw out all food porn and just settle on paint-by-numbers. I have the supplies.

  “There they are,” my mother announces.

  All heads from the group turn in our direction.

  “You two look well rested. Foster, are you all set with your room?”

  “Yes, thank you. I’ve officially moved out for the evening.”

  His response seems to satisfy her.

  “Excellent.”

  Pushing through a group of Foster’s cousins, Wolfgang, with his shaved head adorned in dark sunglasses, skips—literally step-hopping—toward us with his arms open wide. He swoops me up into a hug and dramatically twirls me around, like we’re some corny couple in one of those cheesy romance movies.

  “You look radiant.” He lowers his voice and continues, “Freshly fucked makes you glow like an angel in a strip club.”

  I smack his shoulder. “Thanks. Foster is the master of the oxytocin gleam.”

  “I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean. Is it some kind of new foreplay? I could use some extra kinky in my life.”

  “Sounds like someone needs a chemistry lesson,” Foster comments.

  “Screw that. The only chemistry that matters in my life is the mixing of hot water and coffee beans.” Wolfgang pats my fiancé on the shoulder. “I’ll leave the rest up to you.”

  “You’re missing out,” I remark. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

  My mother claps, calling all of our friends’ and families’ attention. “Okay, everyone, it’s time for us to go. There are
two buses out front that will escort us down to the dock. From there, we’ll all board the ship and be at our destination in time for lunch.”

  Without any argument or complaint, everyone takes my mother’s direction—they all must have received the memo that she’s in charge—and they begin to make their way toward the exit. A few stop and say hello to Foster and me, but for the most part, we are being rushed outdoors to the buses.

  Wolfgang stays by my side, claiming it’s his duty as man of honor, and Foster flanks my other arm. Climbing aboard one of the vehicles, Foster and I sit in the row behind Wolfgang and Foster’s brother, Harold.

  The bus takes off toward the dock. Not even ten seconds after the driver begins to accelerate, Wolfgang turns around to chat with Foster and me.

  “Great tan,” my friend comments. “You won’t need to spray at all. You look so fresh and glowy.”

  “Thanks. I think we covered my glow earlier,” I chirp back.

  “True. All that oxytocin. I remember.”

  Harold snickers, and Foster does his best to keep a poker face.

  Wolfgang suspiciously eyes me and furrows his brow.

  “What?” I snap.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “No.”

  “You seem nervous or…something.” He winks at Foster, causing him to laugh. “If you’re apprehensive at all, I’ll have a good long talk with Foster about respecting and taking care of you for the rest of your life. I’m happy to do it. I could even threaten him, if needed. Something along the lines of a shovel and a hole dug about six feet into the ground.”

  “Like you would know how,” I say. “Have you been studying Mafia movies?”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary.” Foster drapes an arm over my shoulder. “Rest assured, I’m very protective of what’s mine. No need for a shovel.”

  “Ooh, the alpha vibe. I like it. It’s probably for the best anyhow. My hardware store coupon expired last week.”

  “Yes, one should never pay full price when it comes to equipment for veiled threats,” I say.