Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances

by Maggie Way

  “Gretchen …”

  She shook her head. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would really like you to kiss me again. I wasn't quite finished before.”

  That succeeded in taking John’s frown away when he didn’t think anything could. She let him pull her back into his arms, feeling the sweet sensation of his heart racing as his lips lowered to hers. Guilt and worry drifted away in that moment. John’s hand moved from the side of her face up into her hair, pressing her closer, kissing her more deeply. His whole body burned, cleansing him of every fear that had been lingering in his mind.

  Feeling her body against his, their hearts racing in anticipation, it was alluringly close to perfection. John could believe in those precious minutes that there was nothing capable of taking them away from each other. The feeling lasted until their lips finally parted and Gretchen laid her head on his chest. Pleasure washed over John, but it didn’t cover him completely.

  He couldn’t keep Carl’s warning from slipping back into his mind.

  It was only accidental bruises this time, but what if he really hurt Gretchen? Could he live with himself after that?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Blueberry Pancakes

  Gretchen woke to the smell of blueberry pancakes the next morning. Mornings had never been her best time of day, but they had improved since John moved in. Even on school days, she now woke to the smell of breakfast. Gone were the days of munching on toast, if she was lucky, as she ran out the door. Now Gretchen was happy to wake up, but only a small part of that had to do with the food.

  What really had her bouncing out of bed every morning was the knowledge that John would be waiting for her in the kitchen. After their kiss the night before, part of her wanted to wake up to him lying beside her, but she knew neither of them were anywhere near ready for that. She was still too afraid that the closer she got to John, the more inevitable his leaving would be, and John seemed too scared of hurting her to allow himself to really let go.

  Remembering the bruises, Gretchen rolled her eyes when she thought about him freaking out. Gretchen looked in the mirror as she brushed her teeth, seeing the faint dots of purple on her arms. It was so minor, so inconsequential, but he had looked at them like he’d just stabbed her in the heart. It was just an accident.

  As she rinsed out her mouth, Gretchen knew she might never understand. She didn’t want to repeat the argument, though, so she grabbed a sweater that was lying on the end of her bed and pulled it on over her tank top to keep them hidden. The shirt fell halfway down her thighs and she blinked in surprise. It wasn't hers.

  Gretchen’s lips curled into a smile. It was early May, but still chilly in the mornings. She had shivered the night before while she and John were watching a movie. He immediately took off his sweater and pulled it over her head. Gretchen’s protests had been feeble. She had reluctantly taken it off before bed to keep from getting twisted up in the extra fabric while she slept.

  Another wave of blueberry scent hit Gretchen as she opened the door and hurried to the kitchen. John didn’t look up when she came in. He knew Gretchen was there, but let her sneak up behind him and put her arms around his waist. Only then did he look over his shoulder at her, smiling and kissing her forehead. Sighing happily, Gretchen leaned against him and ignored her grumbling stomach.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” John said. “Are you ready for some breakfast?”

  “You spoil me way too much. Do you know that?” she asked.

  “Spoil you? I couldn’t spoil you if I tried,” he said. “You deserve more than I could ever give you, Gretchen Gesner.”

  He was oddly serious as he said it. Gretchen knew he honestly meant what he said. She felt tears springing to her eyes and laughed to cover them up. “You’re so full of it,” she joked. She had to turn away to hide how flustered he made her. John seemed to take the hint and went back to flipping pancakes.

  “You look amazing this morning, by the way,” he said without turning around.

  Gretchen laughed. “I bet. I’m pretty sure I still have mascara under my eyes and my hair is standing up in at least three places.” Actually, she had made sure to wash her face and run a quick brush through her hair before she came out. But still, Gretchen knew she was definitely not one of those girls who woke up every morning looking like they just stepped out of the salon.

  “I’m serious,” John said, looking back at her this time, “you look hot wearing my clothes. I think you should wear them all the time.”

  She seriously doubted he meant the part about her wearing men’s clothing, but his grin made her believe the rest. She didn’t even blush. She just grinned back.

  “Well, good luck getting this back,” Gretchen teased. “I think I’ll keep it.”

  Carrying over two plates of blueberry pancakes, John set one in front of Gretchen with a flourish then set his down as well. “I might be willing to trade,” he said, one eyebrow raising conspiratorially.

  “Trade?” she asked. “What do you want?”

  His expression turned thoughtful, but Gretchen wasn't fooled. “I haven’t decided yet,” he said. “You can have the sweater, but I get to have something of yours at a later date.”

  “At a later date? That sounds fishy,” she said. What was he planning?

  “That’s the deal. Take it or leave. Although if you leave it, you have to give me my sweater back, right now.” John smiled, knowing he had her trapped. Either way, he would get something. If she refused the deal she would have to strip off her shirt in front of him. Yes, she had a tank top on, but that was it. No bra underneath. Or she could take the second option, and John would get to name the other half of their trade whenever he wanted. Oh, he was good.

  “I’ll take it,” Gretchen said. There was no way she was taking the sweatshirt off.

  John looked mildly disappointed she wasn't going to undress at the breakfast table, but winning the deal left him pleased. Suspicion made her curious. He wasn't getting his sweatshirt back, but she would be on the lookout. John shoved a forkful of pancakes into his mouth looking as if he’d won something, but Gretchen was pretty sure she had come out on top.

  John’s sweater had his scent and reminded her every minute she wore it of how much her life had changed for the better since finding him in the middle of the road. The last time she had worn a man’s clothing was when she’d dated Steve. It had only happened once.

  “Gretchen,” John said, thankfully breaking her out of her thoughts, “what’s wrong?”

  Startled by his voice, she looked up. John reached across the table and took her hand. Gretchen didn’t realize she’d let her emotions slip through her thoughts. Flushing in embarrassment, she shook her head. John didn’t fall for it.

  “Hey,” he said softly, “what were you thinking about?”

  “Nothing you want to hear about,” she promised.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be able to tell your boyfriend anything?” he asked.

  Gretchen choked on her pancakes. “Boyfriend?”

  John’s honest concern slipped into a smile for a second. “Don’t try to change the subject, Gretchen. What were you thinking about?”

  “My last boyfriend,” she mumbled. She wasn’t completely distracted. She would be coming back to that boyfriend comment.

  John cocked an eyebrow up. “While you’re sitting at breakfast with me, wearing my sweatshirt? That’s not exactly flattering.” He didn’t look angry, just concerned. “What made you think about your ex?”

  Gretchen had dripped catsup all over her shirt one day while over at Steve’s apartment. She didn’t have anything to change into, so she’d grabbed a shirt out of his bedroom and threw it on. Steve saw her and told her she looked ridiculous in his t-shirt and demanded she put something on that didn’t make her look like a tramp. She wore her stained t-shirt home.

  “It was the sweatshirt, actually.” John didn’t understand what Gretchen meant by that, so she continued. “The last time I wore a guy’s shirt was whe
n I was dating my last boyfriend. He said I looked horrible and told me to take it off.”

  Closing his eyes, John shook his head in disbelief. “Well, obviously, your last boyfriend was an ass,” he said. “Although, I would have assumed that anyway.”

  “What?” Gretchen asked. Something about that sounded a little off. Her last boyfriend would obviously be awful? Why? For dating her?

  “Well, you aren’t with him anymore, thankfully, so either he was stupid enough to break up with you, or he did something stupid enough to make you break up with him. Either way, he’s obviously not good enough.” John finished by stuffing another bite of blueberry pancakes into his mouth.

  That made more sense, and Gretchen agreed completely. Steve never would have, but what did he matter anymore?

  “Which one was it?” John asked.

  “Huh?” Gretchen had lost track of what he was asking her.

  “Why did you two break up?”

  Steve was her least favorite subject, but she couldn’t ignore the question. It was her fault for even letting Steve slip into her thoughts. Why had she ever dated him in the first place?

  Unfortunately, that was a question Gretchen still didn’t have an answer to. At least not one she wanted to admit. When she was perfectly honest, she knew she’d dated him because he was handsome and charming and bowled her over with his rush of attention and gifts those first few weeks. It took Gretchen way too long to realize he only wanted her around because she was pretty enough for him to parade around at his wealthy family’s and friends’ parties without being embarrassed, and because she was dumb enough not to realize he was cheating on her pretty much the whole time.

  The day Gretchen walked in on him and one of her classmates in bed together, she lost so much more than just a worthless boyfriend. Most the people she’d thought were her friends sided with Steve, saying she should have known what kind of guy he was, how she deserved it if she wasn't smart enough to figure it out before. Gretchen spent the last two weeks before graduation sleeping on the couch at one of the few friends she’d had left, and ran home to Denver as soon as her last final was over.

  “I broke up with him. He’d been cheating on me,” Gretchen said simply. Then shaking away anymore thoughts of Steve and signaling an end to that part of the conversation, she faced John.

  “Now what was that about you being my boyfriend?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Panic

  To be perfectly honest, John only made the boyfriend comment to try and make her laugh. But when he saw the look of shock in her eyes, John had grinned at how adorable she was and gone back to whatever was bothering her. It seemed safer. Now they had circled back.

  The only thing that kept him from sneaking away without answering was he really did mean it. He wanted Gretchen to think of him as her boyfriend. She was pretty much all he thought about, well her and cooking. Whenever he cooked he thought of her, too, and how her writing therapy had led him to experiment with food. So, he pretty much thought about Gretchen constantly.

  Especially after kissing her.

  John’s leg had been killing him when they got home from the restaurant, so Gretchen suggested watching a movie on the couch so he could rest. John couldn’t even remember what the movie was about. Lying next to her on the couch for two hours was torture. All he wanted to do was run his hands over her skin and trace his lips over her body.

  As comfortable as they were with each other, he had the feeling a few kisses at dinner didn’t mean she was ready to jump into making out on her couch. Holding back wasn't easy, but she looked so peaceful just being in his arms that John didn’t want to ruin the moment. Plus, as much as he wanted to rush ahead, part of him was terrified of it as well. There was something about the strange pain from the previous night he couldn’t stop worrying about. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was he had seen a face among the flashes of light, one that didn’t belong in the restaurant.

  “So, are you going to answer me sometime today?” Gretchen asked.

  How exactly was John supposed to answer her? “I, uh…” Everything that came to mind sounded terrible. I was just joking, made it sound like he didn’t want her to think of him as her boyfriend, but Yes, I desperately want to be your boyfriend, sounded pathetic and might scare her if she wasn't feeling the same way. Why did he even bring it up?

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” John finally said.

  Gretchen nodded slowly. “How much?”

  “A lot.”

  “Since when?” she asked.

  “Pretty much since I woke up,” John said. A smile slipped through Gretchen’s thoughtful expression for a brief second.

  Taking both his hands, Gretchen looked over at him, her face serious, but there was a hint of pleasure there as well. “John, I understand you don’t have a ton of relationship experience at this point, but I just want to make sure you understand real life isn’t like some of the movies we’ve watched. One kiss doesn’t mean everything will work out perfectly.”

  “I get that, Gretchen, I do. Things have been going pretty well so far, haven’t they?” he asked.

  “Yes, but …” She trailed off, leaving him hanging.

  “I’m not trying to push you into anything,” John said quickly. Did she really not want to move forward? “It’s just been on my mind, and kind of slipped out, I guess. I’m not asking you to decide right now. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

  Grabbing his plate, John limped over to the sink and dropped it in. He didn’t like to leave dirty dishes, but he wanted to get out of the kitchen. He felt like an idiot. John made it to the doorway before Gretchen’s voice stopped him.

  “John, wait.”

  He stopped but didn’t turn back.

  Gretchen’s arms wrapped around his waist as she laid her head against his back. “I’m sorry, John, I didn’t mean to push you away. You just took me by surprise. I wasn't expecting to have this conversation quite so soon, but I’m glad you brought it up.”

  Now he turned to face her. “You are? You weren’t acting like it.”

  “I’m glad we’re talking about it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not scared,” she said. “It’s a big step. It will only make things harder if…”

  John had been expecting that. Even though they both decided weeks ago that they were taking a risk, one they thought was worth it, the admission didn’t take away the fear. John was terrified of hurting or losing Gretchen, but he was terrified of living without her, too.

  All John could say to her was, “I know.”

  The image of the woman’s face he might or might not have seen the previous night darted through his thoughts. He worried there was something to be afraid of even more than Gretchen knew, but he couldn’t let that stop him. He wanted her. He needed her in a way that had nothing to do with a place to live.

  “Gretchen, I know we’ve done all of this a little backward, moving in together before we even knew each other, but despite that, I think we’ve done pretty well,” he said. Gretchen smiled, but she didn’t look convinced. “How often do we fight? And I mean real fights, not you getting mad about clothes on the floor or plates and cups in the living room.”

  “When do I complain about that?” she said. “I knew you couldn’t clean up very well with your casts on. Now, of course…” She was serious, but there was some teasing in there too. John was gaining some ground.

  “Do I treat you right? Have I ever made you feel like you weren’t the most amazing person I know?” John asked. He knew she would have a hard time arguing with him there. He pretty much worshipped her.

  Gretchen didn’t disagree. “You treat me too well,” she said, her smile growing.

  Bringing his hands up to the sides of Gretchen’s face, relishing the lack of cast so he could finally do so properly, John held her so she was looking right at him. “Do you want me to be part of your life?” He asked, no hint of teasing or joking in his voice. This was what he really needed to know.


  “Of course I do,” she said without hesitation.

  “Then why are you shying away from the word boyfriend?” he asked.

  “I …” She ducked her head and pressed herself against John’s chest. Then without looking up at him, she said, “I’m just afraid that as soon as I admit to myself that our relationship is really going somewhere, that’s when it’s going to happen. That’s when it will all end.”

  “Gretchen, that doesn’t make any sense,” John complained.

  “You don’t understand, John. You’re coming into this with no baggage, no past hurts or failed relationships. Maybe you did have bad breakups or crazy girlfriends, but you don’t remember them,” she said. “I would never say you were lucky because of what happened to you, but I would love to have my memories of Steve ripped out of my mind.

  “We were together for two years. I had convinced myself he loved me, and I was so sure he was planning on proposing to me after graduation. I had been through some good and bad, but short relationships before Steve. I thought it was different with him, special. Everything seemed so perfect. We were almost done with college, ready to start our adult life together. I remember telling a friend how my life felt so complete, how I was happier than I ever thought I could be, and a few days later, everything fell apart.

  “I’m afraid that as soon as I let myself admit you aren’t here because you need my help, but because I want you here, something will take you away from me. I want to keep that moment at bay as long as possible,” Gretchen said, her breath finally running out.

  As if her words had been holding back her tears, as soon as she stopped talking they began flowing down her cheeks. Instantly, John pressed her against him and tried to soothe her, running his hand down her hair to her back until she stopped crying.

  “Gretchen, I can’t make you any promises about the future. We both know how uncertain that is right now, but I can promise you I will do everything I can to make you happy and I will never purposely hurt you,” John said.