Romancing Rayne

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Romancing Rayne Page 3

by Riley Edwards


  “Come on, let’s get inside.”

  By the time we made it to the curb, the driver had our bags waiting; a quick thank you and exchange of money and we were on our way. We only had a few days in London, and I was excited to start our honeymoon.

  I was happy to see everything seemed to be the same, modern with a mix of old world opulence. It was classy, yet still inviting and exactly what I’d been hoping for. A perfect recreation of our first trip but with the fairytale ending Rayne deserved.

  “The lobby is just like I remember it, but this time it feels different.” Rayne laughed.

  “How so?”

  “Well, the first time you checked us into this hotel, I felt like I had “one-night stand” tattooed on my forehead. This time, I feel like Mrs. Rayne Bryson, the proud wife of Ghost Bryson.”

  “Come on, crazy woman, we have lots to do. Are you hungry?”

  “Starving. I think by the time this baby comes, I’m going to be as big as a house.”

  “A beautiful house.”

  “Ghost!” she admonished.

  “What? I’m just agreeing with you.” Before I could insert my foot any further into my mouth, the woman checking us in interrupted, needing my attention.

  With room keys in hand, we headed for the elevators.

  “I hope we have a good view,” Rayne said as she peered through the glass enclosure overlooking the main lobby of the hotel.

  I didn’t answer, not wanting to spoil her surprise. When the elevator stopped on our floor, she was too busy digging through her handbag to notice her surroundings. I led her to the room, unlocked the door, and pushed it open, allowing her to enter before me.

  “I can’t believe I can’t find my Chapstick,” she complained, still looking through her purse. “I hate how dry my lips get when I . . . holy shit . . . Ghost!” Her gaze had finally lifted, and she was looking around the room. Lip balm forgotten, she tossed her bag on the bed and went straight for the window.

  “I can’t believe you did this.” She turned to face me, tears streaming down her pretty cheeks. “Our room. You brought us back to our room.” She continued to cry, and I prayed they were happy tears.

  Leaving the luggage by the door, I moved to where Rayne was standing and pulled her into my arms.

  “Princess?”

  “I knew it.”

  “Knew what?”

  “Remember when we were at Westminster Abbey?” Rayne turned in my arms to face the window.

  “Of course.”

  “You told me you weren’t romantic, and I remember explaining to you all the ways you were. From how you’d paid for everything we’d done, to always holding the door open, allowing me to enter first. You were protective and never allowed anyone to bump into me or get too close. You let me see everything I wanted to see without complaint. I knew you didn’t believe me and only agreed to make me be quiet. But, Ghost, you are the most romantic man I’ve ever known. You show me a hundred times a day how much you love me, you still protect me, you always make sure I have the best seat when we’re out. You always clean the house before I get back from a trip so I don’t have to do a single thing but relax. You take care of me, and us, and our home. So, I’ve always known you were a closet romantic, but I also knew you wanted to believe in the fairytale.”

  “Princess,” I started.

  “Don’t argue. I knew it then and know it more than ever now.”

  She was mostly right, but she was also wrong.

  “You still don’t get it. It’s you, Princess, only you. I want you to have everything you ever dreamed of having. The romance, the flowers, the happily ever after fairytale. I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure you have everything you need and to make sure you’re safe and protected.”

  “I know you will.” Rayne turned to face me, rolling up on her tiptoes she kissed the corner of my mouth. “You’ve proven it daily. Now come on and feed me and the baby.”

  The baby.

  Before she could step away, I brought her wrist to my lips and kissed the tiny scars left from her time in Egypt. Scars that reminded me fate had brought us together not once, but twice.

  6

  Rayne

  “It even smells the same,” I noted when we made our way into Mickey’s. I looked around the small restaurant and nothing had changed; even the menu on the chalkboard behind the long counter was the same.

  “Fish,” Ghost deadpanned.

  “Well, yes, and potatoes and grease.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re not in advertising. I’m not sure your description of fish, grease, and potatoes whets the appetite.” Ghost laughed and pushed us forward to the counter where a young woman was waiting to take our order. “Two fish and chips, please.”

  Without letting go of my hand Ghost navigated the busy pub, stopping at a table in the corner. He pulled my chair out, as always, before taking his seat across from me, with his back to the wall.

  “We should’ve carved our names into the table,” I told him, running my hand over the worn, chipped wood.

  “Hold that thought,” he said and got up, then disappeared into the crowd, returning a few moments later with the most delicious smelling baskets of yummy fried fish and French fries. I wasn’t sure what Ghost’s issue was with my description of the place was; the fried batter from the fish and greasy crispy fries looked and smelled divine.

  I didn’t wait for Ghost to sit back down before I picked up a thick-cut fry and popped it in my mouth. So good. Just as I remembered.

  “You know what’s funny?” Ghost asked. I shook my head, unable to answer with another piece of delicious, greasy goodness in my mouth. “Back home, you only order fries if they’re the thin, crispy ones. You won’t even eat the ones at the bar on base because you say they’re too thick. But you devour them here.”

  “Hmm? You’re right.” My hand stopped short of my mouth as I pondered his statement. Not so much about how I preferred my food but that he’d noticed. Ghost paid attention to everything, part of that was because he was a Delta, and they were aware of their surroundings at all times, even when home. However, the fact he remembered and cared enough to make changes to fit my preferences was something I’d never paid attention to. Thinking about it made my heart swell. After I’d made the comment about the fries at the bar not being to my liking, we’d never gone back there. Whenever I said I wanted a burger, even though Ghost loved to go and have a beer and play darts after our meal, we went to a burger joint downtown. He was always doing things like that for me. Small, simple stuff that individually didn’t seem like a big deal. But all of it mattered. All of it put together was one more way he showed he loved me and would always put me first.

  “I love you, Ghost.”

  “I love you, Princess. So, I was thinking. I like your idea about carving our names in the table.”

  “We can’t do that.”

  “Not our names, but our initials.”

  “Ghost,” I scolded. “That’s like destruction of property or something. We can’t really do it. It’s against the law.”

  “Only if we get caught.”

  Was he crazy? Carving your initials was something teenagers did. What was next? Was he going to put a heart around our names, too?

  “That way, next time we’re here, we can retrace our steps and find all the places we marked,” he continued.

  “Next time?”

  “Yep. Mrs. Rayne Bryson, I promise to bring you back to London for a proper scavenger hunt on our twenty-fifth anniversary.”

  And he still wanted to deny he wasn’t a romantic.

  “Okay.”

  “That trip, we’ll mark more places so on our fiftieth anniversary we’ll have more to find.”

  “Fiftieth? Ghost, we’ll be too old in fifty years to walk the streets of London.”

  “I’ll never be too old to take care of you. Twenty-five, fifty, one hundred years from now, I’ll always make sure you have everything your heart desires.”

  The
re it was again, Ghost doing what Ghost did best, making me feel loved and protected and, above all, he made me feel cherished.

  “For our fiftieth anniversary, we’ll rent those power scooters and zoom around the streets making everyone get out of our way.”

  “Do I look like a man who would be caught riding a power scooter, or a motorized wheelchair?”

  “No.” I laughed at the thought of Ghost in a wheelchair; that was never going to happen. Though I could imagine him with salt and pepper hair and still as hot as ever.

  We finished our meals and piled the empty baskets and napkins in the middle of the table, then Ghost reached into his pocket, pulling out a small knife.

  “I’ll do the honors, so you don’t cut yourself. You tell me where.”

  I looked around the room full of people; no one was necessarily paying attention, but we were still out in the open.

  “Do you need me to stand watch or something?” I whispered.

  Ghost threw his head back and roared with laughter. I wasn’t sure what was funny but seeing him carefree and happy was one of the best feelings in the world.

  “No, Princess. This isn’t a top-secret, covert mission. Just point where you want it.”

  “Don’t laugh at me. I don’t want you to get arrested, leaving me to wander around London by myself for the next few days.”

  “Never gonna happen.” He quickly sobered. “I would never do anything that would jeopardize your safety or mine.”

  He didn’t wait for me to show him where I wanted our initials, instead, he chose the corner closest to him and left a very tiny P+G.

  Princess and Ghost.

  Ghost

  By the time we exited the Waterloo station the sun had started to set. There was one more place I wanted to take Rayne before we headed back to the hotel.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Wonderful.” She beamed, her smile so full of love it nearly took my breath away.

  “You’re not too tired? I don’t want you to overdo it. We have a long day tomorrow, but I want to make one more stop before we call it a night.”

  “But it’s still early,” she protested.

  “It is.”

  I tucked Rayne close as we walked toward the River Thames.

  “I’m not tired, and it’s only like four in the afternoon back home.”

  “I’m sure I can find plenty of ways to exhaust my pretty wife.” She tucked her head against my chest and wrapped her arms around me.

  “In that case, I’m ready to go back now.”

  “Come on. I wanna show you something. Then I’m taking you back to the hotel to feast on your sweet pussy. The little taste on the plane did nothing to satisfy my hunger.”

  “Do I get to taste you, too?” she shyly asked, her words muffled.

  “Oh, yeah. You can have anything you want.”

  The rest of the short walk to the Eye of London was done in silence, both of us content, holding each other and taking in the sights. When we stopped in front of the gigantic Ferris wheel, she pulled away and looked up.

  “It seems bigger than before.”

  I bit back the juvenile, “that’s what she said,” response and opted instead to pull her to the Fast Track and Private Capsule entry area.

  “What, no bribing the attendant this time?” She nodded at the sign.

  “Best fifty pounds I ever spent. Having you all alone, watching you take in the night sky was worth every penny.”

  “I’m still not so sure about this.”

  “Come on, you’re safe with me.”

  A sense of déjà vu came over me, transporting me back years before when we stood at that very spot, waiting for the capsule to stop and allow us entry. I had only known Rayne a few hours, yet I knew with great clarity she’d forever altered my life. I’d spoken those exact words to her, both in coaxing her onto the ride and once again when we were at the top. She’d called me John then, the name making my gut clench in distaste. I’d fucking hated lying to her. When she explained, again, that she’d never had a one-night stand, I should’ve let her walk away, yet I was selfish and couldn’t bear the thought of not having her, even if it was for one night. Just being in her presence had changed me; I’d needed her in a way I’d never needed anything in my whole life.

  “Ghost?”

  “Yeah, Princess?”

  “The capsule is here.”

  I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t noticed the doors were open, waiting for us to enter. We walked into the large area, and I pulled her to the far end of the glass enclosure. Placing her in front of me, I stepped behind, caging her in. My hands covering hers on the railing, I moved to get closer still. With her back pressed against my chest, I finally let go of the breath I’d been holding.

  There were times when I thought about how close I’d come to never seeing her again and my heart physically ached. Maybe I was getting sentimental, or maybe when a man finds the love of a good woman the thought of it being taken away is too much to bear.

  “You okay?” Rayne asked.

  “Perfect.” I brushed her hair over her shoulder and leaned in to kiss her neck. “Absolutely perfect.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  The capsule jolted and started to move, causing her to sway in my arms.

  “I was thinking about how much I love you.” Then quickly added, “And him, too.” I moved my hand to her still-flat belly, holding it there, wishing she was already round with our child.

  “Him, huh?”

  “It’s a boy,” I announced.

  “I think it’s a little early to tell. It could be a girl.”

  “No way would I be cursed with a girl.”

  “Hey! That’s not nice. You wouldn’t be happy if we had a girl?”

  “Princess, I’d go prematurely gray if we had a daughter as smart, funny, and beautiful as you. Not to mention we’d have to buy stock in Remington because the amount of money I’d need to spend on guns and ammo to keep teenage boys away from our house would be ungodly.”

  “You’re crazy. So, you’d rather have crazed teenage girls banging down our door trying to get to our smart, handsome, athletic son?”

  “Well, yeah. How bad could that be?”

  “You know nothing about teenage girls, do you?”

  The capsule was almost to the top as I thought back to when I was a teenager. She wasn’t wrong. The girls had been bold, doing things their fathers would’ve gone ballistic over.

  “I’ll teach him to respect women and himself. How to care for her heart and be a good man.”

  Rayne turned in my arms to face me.

  “I know you will. And if we have a girl, you’ll show her how a man should treat her. You’ll teach her how to protect herself and not to settle for anything but the best.” Rayne lifted her hand to my face and, just as she’d done hundreds of times, stared up at me with blinding loyalty and love.

  “Goddamn right, I will.” The thought of some pimply faced boy trying to take advantage of my daughter made me see red.

  “So, either way, boy or girl, this baby will be loved and protected.”

  I mirrored her movement and brought both my hands to her face, holding her where I wanted as I leaned down for an all too brief kiss. As much as I’d love nothing more than to make out with Rayne, this wasn’t the time. I wanted her to enjoy the sights from the top of the eye. I pulled back and broke the kiss but didn’t let go. “I know I keep saying this, but you’ve made me the happiest man on the planet. You, the baby, our family, I promise I will never stop loving you. I will never stop being thankful. I will never stop providing for you. Until my dying breath, it will always be you.”

  “Only you, Ghost.”

  Fuck, how did I get so lucky? I could barely remember a time I didn’t know this kind of soul-deep love. There was before Rayne and after Rayne and everything before Rayne was bleak and dismal—a distant, unwelcome memory.

  “It really is beautiful up here. How far do you th
ink you can see?”

  “On a clear day, about twenty-five miles.”

  “Wow. So maybe we can see Windsor Castle? It’s about twenty miles away, right?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Ghost! You’re missing everything.”

  “No, Princess. I’m not missing a damn thing.”

  As much as I wanted her to take in the beauty of the city, I was content looking at my wife. Maybe Rayne was right. Maybe there was a smidge of a romantic in me after all. If being a romantic meant wanting nothing more than to lay your wife across the nearest flat surface and fuck the hell out of her until she screamed your name, then I was definitely a romantic.

  7

  Rayne

  “I’m not gonna lie, as beautiful as the view is, I prefer my feet on the ground,” I admitted to Ghost as we walked down the Queen’s Walk, cutting through the Jubilee Gardens to get to the street. It wasn’t so much a garden as a green space with a walkway. “I know you said just one more stop, but can we make another one before we head back?” I begged.

  “Where’s that?” he asked, eyeing the Park Plaza entrance just across the street from where we were.

  “I want to see the Graffiti Tunnel. It’s just behind the hotel.”

  “Come on, we need to walk a block down to Leake Street, the entrance is behind those buildings,” he said.

  “You know about the tunnel?”

  For some reason, it stuck me as odd Ghost would know about a tunnel featuring street artists from around the world.

  “Princess, I can tell you every underground tunnel, tube station, evacuation area, where to avoid, and how to evade any terrorist threat within a thirty-mile radius. Do you think I’d take you anywhere and not have an EXFIL strategy in place?”

  “Geeze, Ghost, you’re not on a mission, you’re on your honeymoon,” I reminded him.

  “You’re wrong. When you’re with me, I’m always on a mission.”

  “Okay, Rambo, let’s go look at some graffiti.”

  He chuckled and we walked to the entrance of the tunnel; he, as always, tucked me close, making sure he was on the street side.

 

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